White Nights

by Susan Edwards

  She dropped her arms and stared at him with tears in her eyes. “Oh, James,” she whispered before turning around so he couldn’t see her face.

  James shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the sky above them. He’d seen the tears in her eyes, felt the pain in her heart. How could he not? His own eyes burned and his heart protested the inevitable separation. This time next year, she’d be gone and he might never see her again.

  He took a deep breath, righting the emotion curling through him. The Jones siblings were close, always there for one another. Nothing and no one had ever come between them, not even the wagon master and his no-single-women-allowed rule. Jessie being Jessie, she’d simply refused to be separated from her brothers. He fought back a chuckle. None were as resourceful as his little sister, though she wasn’t so little anymore.

  Watching her and Alison studying the inscriptions, pride filled him. At seventeen, Jessica Naomi Jones was a grown woman newly married—a fact he still had a hard time believing. Who would have guessed his little tomboy sister would fall in love and marry before they reached Oregon? Just the mention of some would-be suitor coming to call had sent her running several months before.

  But she’d fallen in love with the wagon master, White Wolf. James’s lips twitched when he thought of the shotgun wedding he’d insisted on when he’d found out the pair were lovers. Jessie had been furious, but James had no regrets. It was a brother’s responsibility to make sure no man took advantage of his sister and if James had to do it all over again, he would.

  He paced, not seeing the view or even the other emigrants moving around him as he struggled with the pain of change. He listened to Jessie reading Alison the names and dates of emigrants who’d gone before them and sighed with a mixture of regret and longing. His siblings no longer needed him, and that realization made him feel much older than twenty-five.

  For so long, his whole life had revolved around them. At sixteen, he’d buried his parents and stepped into their shoes, becoming both mother and father to two brothers and his sister. Now that his responsibility was complete, his future loomed, bleak and endless, like the horizon stretched out beyond forever.

  Akin to the excess furniture and food littering the trail, he felt cast off, no longer needed or wanted. It wasn’t the truth. In his heart, he knew his brothers and sister loved him as much now as they had when they’d depended upon him to provide for them, but they were ready to branch out and start their own families.

  Yep, life went on and with each of his siblings seeking their own futures, it was well past time for him to do the same. Both Jordan and Jessie had married in the last three months, and if he had his way, he’d join them in wedded bliss.

  Alison jumped up, breaking him out of his musings. “James,” she squealed, her voice high with excitement. “Look! Right here, there’s no marks on the rock. I want my name here.”

  Grateful for the distraction, James hunched down beside the red-haired girl who promised to one day become as beautiful a woman as her mother. Just thinking about Eirica filled him with warmth and purpose. After years of avoiding simpering, giggling girls who’d set their sights on him, he’d finally found the woman he wanted to marry.

  Alison tugged on his arm, her wide eyes filled with doubt, some of the sparkle dimming when he just knelt there, silent. “Maybe this isn’t such a good spot.” Her voice wobbled with uncertainty.

  He hastened to reassure the little girl. “This is the best spot on this whole darn rock, sweet pea.”

  It bothered him that she always expected disapproval, but considering what a bastard that Birk Macauley had been, James wasn’t surprised. The child tried so hard to please and wanted—no, needed—so much reassurance, his heart ached. He ran a finger down her freckle-covered nose then set to work, carving her name as deep and as big as he could in the small area she’d chosen. While he worked, he vowed to see that both mother and daughter would only have cause to smile and laugh from now on.

  Finished, he stood, noting the waning of the afternoon sun. “Time to head back, you two. I need to return to the herd and relieve Wolf.” With Jessie on one side of the little girl and James on the other, they descended the rock and wound their way through the throng of wagons and tents taking up most of the available ground close to the landmark. The farther out, the more space they found—and dried grass among clumps of sagebrush.

  Shading his eyes against the lowering sun, he searched out the dark blur of cattle moving lazily in the distance and noted their position. Lack of grass along the trail drove the herd out several miles in search of more bountiful supply. At least they no longer had to worry about the poisonous alkali ponds. Water was once again fresh and abundant. Satisfied that things were fine, he relaxed. He’d check on Eirica before heading back out.

  When they arrived at the circled wagons, Jessie stifled a yawn. “Should’ve taken a nap instead of sightseeing. Guess I’d best give Rook a hand with supper or you boys won’t be eating tonight.”

  James grabbed her by the arm before she took off. “Please, don’t let Coralie bake the bread.”

  Jessie laughed, her eyes lit with mischievous delight. “Now, James, our dear sister-in-law has to learn to cook sometime. Just think of the abuse poor Jordan’s stomach endures when she cooks for him.”

  Shuddering, James scowled. “Coralie is his wife. Let her experiment on him, not me. Remember the last time Rook let her bake the bread? It was gooey in the center and burnt black on the outside and we were stuck with just beans and pork for supper.”

  “And you boys were so nice, telling her how good it was.”

  James scowled. “The dog wouldn’t even eat it.”

  “No promises.” Jessie punched him in the arm, then sprinted off toward the supply wagons, the ribbon holding her shoulder-length hair away from her face slipping. The sight of that one touch of femininity still caught James by surprise. He’d never known Jessie to have any use for hair ribbons, preferring a length of leather when her hair had been long.

  Change. So many things had changed since leaving their farm.

  “Evening, James,” a soft husky voice greeted him.

  Shaking off the melancholy mood, he nodded at Catarina, Sofia De Santis’s granddaughter. He quickly continued on his way before the girl waylaid him. Each time he came into the camp, she found an excuse to speak to him. Though she was nice enough, she didn’t interest him in the least. He had eyes only for Eirica.

  He sniffed the air, his stomach rumbling in response to the scent of fresh bread and other savory smells. Passing close to Rook’s fires, he grimaced. Bacon and beans. His appetite fled. He was heartily sick of the trail staple. A man needed variety, and Rook’s meals tended to be monotonous and plain. Fresh meat would be a welcome change, but game was in short supply.

  Glancing down at Alison who skipped contentedly beside him, he winked. “Let’s go see what your ma’s cooking. Maybe it’ll be better than Rook’s beans.”

  “Prob’ly not. All we get is beans and bacon, too.” She made a face equal to his own and the two snickered. James ruffled her red curls and held out his hand.

  With Alison’s fingers wrapped around his, James threaded her way around camps, wagons and people going about their evening chores with a preoccupation that bespoke of drudgery. Whistling tunelessly, he spotted Eirica and quickened his pace.

  She stood, her profile to him as she rocked Ian in her arms. But as he neared her, he slowed his steps, telling himself he didn’t want to startle her with his sudden appearance. She was still skittish around him and he didn’t want to risk having her drop the boy. And, in truth, James wanted a moment to watch her, to feast his tired eyes upon her beauty without making her uncomfortable.

  It also gave him a chance to catch his breath, slow his heart and plan what he wanted to say. Maybe then, when he spoke to her, he wouldn’t sound like some great big lubber who’d never been around women.

  He drew courage from the fact that back in Westport, the ladies had
found him attractive—as did several single women on the trail. When the emigrants gathered for an impromptu potluck and night of music and dancing, he never lacked partners. But this was different. He’d never actively courted a woman before. He had never wanted more than the entertainment of the moment. Working his struggling farm and raising his siblings had taken all his time and energy.

  But now, the closer he got to Eirica, the tighter the neck of his faded blue shirt seemed. He removed the bandana he kept tied there so he didn’t have to breathe the dust from the cattle and unbuttoned the top two buttons. After running his finger around the inside of the collar, he checked to make sure his hands were reasonably clean. There wasn’t much he could do about the dust coating his clothing. When he realized what he was doing, he stuffed the square of material in the back pocket of his well-worn denims. Damn, facing a herd of stampeding cattle seemed easier than exposing his heart and soul to the woman who’d captured both.

  His gaze slid over her profile. Her haunting beauty stole his breath. The glow of the sunset brought her hair to life and heaven’s goodness shone in her ethereal features. She was an angel, sweet and gentle—vulnerable—made more so by the swell of her rounded belly where her unborn babe nestled. The miracle of that new life made him sigh.

  He longed to put his hands on her and feel the movements that could sometimes be seen from beneath the apron she wore over the long skirt of her dress. An unexpected memory of his parents sitting on the wide porch swing in the evenings slid through his mind. Their zest for life had filled their home with love and laughter. James remembered hearing shouts of laughter one night from the porch and having gone to investigate. He’d found his pa sitting with his big hand spread over his wife’s swollen belly, exclaiming with delight every time the baby—his sister, Jessie—had moved.

  And when his ma had invited him to also feel, he’d done so, not expecting anything. But the bumps and movement of his baby sister had given him that first rush of wonder that came with the discovery of life. He’d never forgotten it, and had looked forward to the day when he could have his own family, feel his own babes’ movements before holding them.

  Eirica shifted her position. James felt his heart thud against his rib cage. His blood raced anew as their gazes met across the short span separating them. Conscious of her wariness, he stopped a respectable distance from her, content with the sheer pleasure of gazing into eyes as blue as bittersweet nightshade. Tendrils of golden-red hair framed her small oval face and he fought the urge to reach out and sweep the silky strands away from her face.

  “Afternoon, ma’am.” He jerked the felt-brimmed hat that had seen better days off his head and clutched it tightly between his fingers.

  “Mr. Jones.” She dipped her head then hesitated, as if about to say something more. But she remained silent, staring down at her son, her front teeth nervously pulling at her lower lip.

  James allowed his eyes to dip to her moist mouth. Full and soft, her lips drove him crazy with desire. A man could spend a lifetime tasting her lips, discovering the hidden charms of her inner mouth, and never learn all her secrets. One part of him strummed with life, causing him to shift uncomfortably.

  He swallowed a sigh of intense desire and reminded himself to go slow, have patience. More than anything, he longed to see love and trust replace the wounded and wary look in her eyes—and after nine years of raising his sister, he figured he had the patience of a saint.

  Alison tugged at his hand. “Mama, we’re back!”

  Eirica smiled gently at her elder daughter. “So I see. Did you have a good time?”

  The little girl let go of James and jumped up and down between the adults. “Oh yes, Mama. We climbed that big rock and everything looked so very tiny. I tried to see you but I couldn’t. And guess what, Mama? James cut my name into the rock. Right on the very top for everyone to see!”

  Eirica’s head jerked up and around to face him. She pinned James with wide eyes gone smoky-gray. “You took Alison to the top of that rock?” A frown tilted the corners of her vulnerable lips downward.

  James fiddled with his hat and tried to smile reassuringly. “Yes, ma’am, but don’t fret none. Jess and I kept Alison close. She was never in any danger.”

  “We had fun, Mama.” Alison pouted, glancing from one adult to the other. “James and Jessie made me hold their hands.” She folded her arms across her narrow chest. “But I could’ve done it all by myself. I’m a big girl now!”

  Eirica shifted Ian in her arms and visibly relaxed. She drew a deep breath. “Yes, sweetheart. You are a big girl. Your ma is just fussy as a hen with one chick.”

  Alison giggled. Eirica shifted Ian in her arms and smiled down at her daughter. “I think Lara missed you. Why don’t you go tell her about your adventure.”

  “Yes, Mama.” Alison skipped over to her sister and chattered nonstop.

  James stared at Eirica, noting her pale, pinched features. He gentled his voice, spoke slowly and carefully as one might to a frightened doe. “I’d never let anything happen to her, Eirica.”

  Eirica shifted Ian in her arms again, her gaze skittering away from his. “I know. I’m sorry, Mr. Jones, I truly trust you and Jessie. It’s just that I worry so. She’s so young and I feel so guilty for what happened to her.”

  James frowned. “Why should you feel guilty for something you had no control over?”

  Eirica lifted tear-filled eyes to his. “If I had gone with Alison and Jessie to Fort Laramie, or not allowed Alison to go with your sister, that horrible woman and her brother might not have kidnapped them. Without my little girl as bait, Jessie might have been able to get away from them.” She broke off and closed her eyes.

  “If I’d lost Ali—”

  “But you didn’t,” James interrupted, moving closer, drawn by the pain and guilt in her eyes. “Jessie and Alison weren’t hurt. Everything turned out all right.”

  He glanced over at Alison, who was telling her sister about her climb up the rock. Though he sought to reassure Eirica, the memory of her daughter and his sister in the hands of the vengeful criminals still haunted his own nights.

  Eirica glanced up at him, opening her mouth as if to protest. James stopped her by placing one finger gently over her lips. “Don’t torture yourself, Eirica. What’s done is done. Leave it where it belongs—in the past.” He removed his touch, grateful she hadn’t flinched from him. His heart lightened. She was coming to trust him.

  “You can’t convince me you don’t still think about what happened,” Eirica whispered.

  James replaced his hat and pushed the brim up. “Yeah, I do. I go through hell just thinking about the what-ifs, but none of us knows the future, and we can’t wrap those we love in cotton wool.”

  He grinned ruefully. “Though Lord knows, I tried with Jess when she was younger. I guarded her fiercer than a she-bear her cubs, so scared she’d hurt herself and them town folk would come take her away. But most of the time, my good intentions to protect her weren’t appreciated.”

  A genuine and amused smile curved Eirica’s lips. “I imagine Jessie was a handful.”

  James snorted. “Hah, Jess is willful, stubborn, rash—”

  Eirica interrupted with a soft chuckle. “And you wouldn’t have her any other way.”

  He grinned back, loving the sound of her laughter, grateful the sad, melancholy mood that normally shrouded her had lifted. “True enough. Your Alison reminds me of Jessie. Always out for an adventure.”

  James rocked back on his heels. Now that Alison was no longer under her father’s oppressive thumb, she’d blossomed. Her confidence grew daily and she showed every sign of becoming as adventurous as Jessie. But the kidnapping had been too much for a young child. Worry for her sobered him. “Have her nightmares stopped?”

  Eirica nodded. “I think so. She hasn’t had one in more than a week now.” A companionable silence fell between them. Finally, Eirica glanced at the fire. “I’d best see to supper.”

  The aroma of
fresh bread set his stomach to growling. He longed to wrangle an invitation to stay and eat with her and her children, but he didn’t want to rush her. Noting her tent hadn’t yet been erected, he nodded. “I’ll see to your tent before I go.”

  Eirica glanced up and shook her head. “No need, Mr. Jones. You’re a busy man. I’ll see to it after supper.” She carried Ian to a blanket spread out on the ground. Before she bent to lay the sleeping toddler down, James, who’d followed her, reached out.

  “Here, let me.” He took the boy in gentle arms and lowered him to a pile of quilts. The day was warm so he didn’t bother to cover him. Standing, he turned, not realizing Eirica stood so close to him. His arm brushed against her swollen belly.

  Startled by the suddenness and the unexpectedness of his touch, she jumped back and lost her balance. James reached out to steady her. He released her arm when he saw the flash of fear in her eyes. He flinched against the stabbing pain in his gut. Damn, her instinctive reaction to his touch stung, and though he knew she couldn’t help it, her reaction felt like someone had slammed a fist into him, knocking the air from his lungs. Not all men were mean drunks like her first husband.

  But knowing she’d married young, and therefore had no other experience with men, gave him hope that one day she’d realize that all he wanted to do was love and cherish her. He took a deep, steadying breath, and left his hands hanging loosely at his sides where she could see them. “Eirica, you have nothing to fear from me. I’d never hurt you.” He kept his voice low and soft, his body still.

  Color crept up her neck and stained her cheeks. She lifted miserable teary eyes to him. “I—I’m sorry, Mr. Jones. Sometimes I just react.”

  James tried a smile to lighten the tension between them. “I know.” Again, the silence stretched between them, this time fraught with tension. He rubbed the back of his neck then adjusted his hat, trying to work up his courage. “I thought we’d agreed to drop the formality between us. I’d be honored if you’d just call me James. Please?”