by Lily Graison
She unwound her hair, brushing the tangled mess while looking for soap. She found a bowl on a high shelf with a few blocks inside. It didn’t smell like the sweet smelling soaps she had back home but as long as it cleaned her hair and washed the grime from her body, she would ignore the scent or lack of.
When the water had warmed enough, she spent the next ten minutes washing her hair, lathering and rinsing it a second time, scrubbing her head until her scalp was tingling. She wrung all the water she could from it, filled the pot again with water and heated more.
She picked up her brush and comb and carried them, along with her bag, into the bedroom and dumped everything out on the bed. The sound of something hitting the floor had her stepping back to see what it was. She saw nothing. Shrugging her shoulders, she went back to unpacking her small bag of belongings.
She’d only packed one extra dress and undergarments. The slips and corsets she’d left behind so other than her shift and bloomers, she was all but naked underneath her skirt. Her clean shift and bloomers were laid out and everything else was stretched across the lone chair in the room. There were so many wrinkles in them they’d probably never come out.
Thinking the water was probably warm enough, she went back into the kitchen and poured it into a pitcher, grabbed the soap and the cloth she’d bathed Gideon with and carried it all back into the bedroom, shut the door firmly behind her and stripped down and washed away months of grime and sweat.
As she’d done with her hair, once she’d washed every inch of her skin, she soaped up and started all over again. Once the stew was finished and she had a belly full of food, the comfort of the thick mattress on the waiting bed would make her day complete.
Victoria hadn’t once looked around the bedroom. Gideon knew she hadn’t or she wouldn’t be stripped bare in plain view of the fireplace. He’d never been more appreciative of the fact Graham refused to keep carrying more rock in to build a second fireplace than he did right now. Making it a two-way to heat both this room and the bedroom at the same time gave him a view he’d never once imagined he’d have. From this position, he could see clean through to the bedroom where Victoria was currently naked as the day she was born and washing every inch of her soft flesh.
Her hair hung in curling wet tendrils down the length of her back all the way to her waist. Her legs were long and lean, the curve of her behind just barely visible until she turned and gave him a full view of her heart-shaped bottom that was kissed by strands of her hair every time she moved. He bit his lip to hold back a groan crawling its way up his throat.
He should look away, turn his head and stop watching but the moment she turned to the side and leaned down to wash one long leg, all he could focus on were her breasts as they came into view, the cloth in her hand as she ran it up the length of her body and around the soft curve of her hip before dipping between her legs.
His body reacted as if she’d been standing in front of him putting on a show, his cock aching at the small glimpse she’d given him. He reached down and gave it a squeeze, willing the growing erection away. Nothing he could think of worked. The sight of her was burned into his memory and he gave his cock a few strokes, squeezing the head before letting go and pulling the sheet higher up on his stomach.
If he were dishonorable, he’d lean to his right and look his fill. Maybe even take himself in hand and stroke himself to completion while his eyes feasted on her porcelain dipped limbs and imagined it was his hand roaming her flawless skin instead of the towel she was washing with. Instead, he straightened the sheet covering him, turned his head toward the kitchen, and set his mind to things like rabbit traps, the icy cold water in the stream, brain-tanning hides, and the smell of offal to erase images of her naked flesh from his mind. As hard as it was not to watch her, he let her finish her bath without gawking.
The air was filled with the aroma of cooking food and his stomach grumbled at the mere thought of eating. He felt weak and shaky and knew something on his stomach would help ease the sensation and take his mind off the naked woman in his bedroom.
Victoria walked out into the main room a few moments later carrying a bundle of clothing in her arms and he jolted, looking down at his groin. His erection was nearly gone but he bent his left leg enough the sheet wasn’t laying against his flesh and revealing his state of arousal.
He watched her cross to the sink. She put the small cap over the drain and dumped her clothes in, then filled a bucket with water and set it on the stove. When she turned her head to look his way, she stopped as if startled he was looking at her.
“You’re awake.” It wasn’t a question, the smile on her face and her hurried footsteps across the room to where he lay telling him that much. She knelt by his side and fussed with the bandages on his chest. “Are you in any pain?”
“Nothing I can’t live with.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
Her smile widened. “The stew should be just about done. Let me go check on it and I’ll help you sit up to eat.”
He didn’t wait for her to come back and sat up the moment she turned—and regretted it the instant he did. The entire room swayed and he braced his weight on one arm and ran a hand across his face. It took a few minutes for the room to stop spinning and he pulled the sheet around his hips, covering his naked backside from view. His own state of undress filled his head with visions of Victoria only moments ago, all her creamy flesh bared to his hungry gaze. His blood started heading south again and he tried to think of anything other than the full roundness of her breasts, the length of her legs, or the fact she’d undressed him. That she’d had her hands on him and he’d been too out of it to know—or enjoy.
He’d been hold up in these mountains way too long. He may have moved up here to get away from the world, and the heartache that still haunted him on a daily basis, but you could only ignore your base desires so long before they’d come crashing back at you—like when you were only feet away from the first naked woman you’d seen in years.
Victoria turned his direction, bowl in one hand, spoon in the other and stopped. His gaze ran up the length of her, from her bare toes to the long wet tendrils of her hair that hung over the front of her dress. She was scrubbed clean, her creamy skin all but gleaming in the pale light in the kitchen. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen and his body ached painfully at the sight of her.
“I told you I’d help you sit up.”
He blinked when she spoke and bunched the sheet covering his aching cock higher. “I’m a terrible patient.”
“I can see that.” She crossed the room to where he sat and knelt by his side. “Do you need help with this?”
He shook his head and reached for the bowl and noticed his shaky hands the same moment she did.
“You’re in pain, aren’t you?”
He met her gaze and tried to smile. “I’ll live.”
She blew out a breath and sank to her knees beside him, dipped the spoon into the bowl and held it up to him. “Eat so you can lay back down. Your face looks pale.”
Having her so close was doing things to him he’d not felt in ages. He opened his mouth, taking the offered spoonful of stew and chewed, the flavorful soup the best thing he’d eaten in a while. She fed him, not a word spoken between them, and every time they made eye contact, her cheeks would turn pink. He never wanted to let her go. “How old are you?” he asked between bites.
The spoon paused halfway to his mouth. “I’ll turn twenty Christmas day.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You were born on Christmas?”
“Yes.” She smiled, her cheeks staining a deeper red. “Growing up, I didn’t realize it was a holiday and just thought the whole town celebrated because it was my birthday.” She laughed and the sound caused something tight to pull in his chest. She fed him another bite and said, “Once I was old enough to know better, my family still made a big deal about it. They still do. They said I was a miracle baby. My mother had been told s
he was barren and had me when she was nearly forty so to them, my birth was a blessing they would never stop making a fuss over.” Her smile vanished, the look in her eyes unreadable.
“Well, hopefully, we get you off this mountain before the heavy snows set in and you can get back home in time to celebrate.”
“I would think so.” She smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s months yet until Christmas.”
He snorted. “How long were you out on that old mountain trail? It’s nearly November.”
“What?” She jolted and gasped, her mouth opening and closing several times. “What do you mean it’s nearly November? It can’t be.”
She stared at him long moments, then lowered the bowl to the floor and mumbled to herself, her fingers ticking off what he assumed were months or weeks maybe, her brows drawn down over her eyes. When she looked up, she shook her head. “We left the wagon train first of July—”
“Who is we?”
“Thomas and I.” A pang of regret and sadness caused her heart to ache. “Thomas was my husband.”
His stomach clenched. She was married? “What happened to him?”
“He died.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “The wagon wheel kept breaking so we had to keep stopping to fix it. Thomas cut himself on one of the nails and never told me.” She looked back up at him. “It became infected and fever took hold of him. I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I did everything I could to try and keep him cool but—“ she sighed. “I’ve been alone ever since he died.”
“When did all that happen?”
“August.”
He gaped at her. “You’ve been surviving out here by yourself for the last three months?”
Her eyes widened, her head shaking back and forth almost frantically. “I couldn’t have been alone that long.”
She looked close to panicking. He could see it in her eyes. He raised his hand and rubbed it across her shoulder. “It’s all right, Victoria. You’re safe now.” He wasn’t convinced she knew that, however. She snatched up the bowl from the floor and stood, hurrying back to the kitchen and setting the bowl on the stove.
After long minutes of her standing there quietly, a strangled noise filled the silence. “I didn’t move from inside that wagon for days after Thomas died. I couldn’t. I was just—numb. I barely slept. I didn’t eat. I just sat there staring at his body until I had no choice but to bury him.” She turned, her shoulders drooped as if the weight of the world sat upon them. “It took me two days to get a grave dug and him put in it and another to cover it back up. I stayed for another week or so after that trying to decide what to do. We’d spent every dime we had on the wagon and supplies so I couldn’t just hop on the next train I saw and go home. We hadn’t passed any homesteads or towns and I was in the middle of nowhere. It took a while for me to realize I couldn’t stay there.” She met his gaze, her eyes wide and startled. “I didn’t think I’d lingered but maybe I was there longer than I thought I was.”
She shook her head, bundled the length of her hair in one hand, and pulled it over her shoulder. “Are you still hungry? I didn’t even ask if you’d had enough.”
“I’ve had plenty. Go to bed. You look exhausted.”
She inhaled deeply, gave him one hard nod of her head then crossed to where he sat. “You need to sleep as well.” She went into the bedroom and came back out with one of the pillows from the bed, then knelt at his side, the length of her hair brushing against his arm as she leaned close. “Lay back.”
One arm sliped around his shoulders and she helped him back down to the pallet she’d made for him. The wounds on his chest ached at the small movement but he bit his tongue and kept the knowledge to himself. Her hair brushed his cheek and he inhaled the clean scent lingering in the strands. He wanted to reach up and run his fingers through it to feel its texture. To cup the back of her head in his hand and pull her closer to taste her pink lips.
Her eyes met his before darting to his mouth and for one brief moment, he thought she was going to kiss him. Waited for her to do it, truth be known. It was wishful thinking on his part, though. She pulled away a moment later, which now that he thought about it, was a good thing. He wasn’t covered in enough to disguise his interest in her if his body chose this moment to react. He adjusted the sheet as she leaned away from him and silently prayed she’d stay longer.
“Do you need anything?”
“No. I’m fine.” He glanced up and gave her a smile. “I’m just going to sleep off this headache and hopefully tomorrow, I’ll be well enough you don’t have to tend to my every need.”
“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “Speaking of needs.” She stood and rushed back into the kitchen, ducking into the pantry before returning a moment later with one of the empty canning jars. “It’s a bit crude but I don’t think you’re in any shape to head outdoors to take care of personal needs, so here.” She held out the jar to him, her face as red as he’d ever seen it. He grinned. She was adorable when embarrassed.
He took the jar and set it beside him, glad she’d thought to go grab it. His bladder was near to bursting and the way his head spun every time he sat up, he knew he wouldn’t make it far if he ventured outside to relieve himself.
She fidgeted from one foot, then the other. “Um, well, goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Victoria.”
What was wrong with her? One moment she’s helping an injured man, the next she’s looking at his partially nude body as if she has a right to do so and contemplating kissing him as if he’d welcome it.
Victoria shook her head to try an clear her thoughts. The misery she usually felt when thinking of Thomas wasn’t as heart crushing as it was in the past and the realization left her more confused than she’d been since leaving home all those months ago. Six months ago if what Gideon said was true. How could that be?
Thinking of Thomas brought so many mixed emotions. He’d swept her off her feet and promised her a life of adventure. Being alone and lost on the side of a mountain was certainly an adventure. He hadn’t lied. Her life was one long adventure now but a part of her longed for her boring life back home. She missed her parents and even though her father had forbid her to see Thomas and promised her hand to Ned Calloway to get him out of her life, an act that resulted in the biggest argument between her and her parents she could remember, a part of her wished she would have stayed and married him. Surely he wouldn’t have been as cruel as Thomas had been on occasion.
Memories of Thomas’s occasional harsh words, and the few times he’d struck her filled her head. She raised a hand to her cheek. Her heart still ached when she thought of it. Her father had never struck her mother. Not that she’d ever seen, but what did she know. Maybe it was a husbands right, just as Thomas had told her.
She sighed. Was the pain of all she’d lost less consuming now because it had been so long ago that it happened? Or was it because she wasn’t alone and afraid anymore? Did the fact Gideon had saved her make the loss of her parents and the love she’d desperately wanted from Thomas but never got less severe? Or was it more than that? Was it Gideon himself that made those feelings of despair seem less crushing?
Stripping off her dress, she laid it over the chair. She’d forgotten to put water in the sink to soak the other one. After carrying her dirty clothes to the kitchen and dumping it in the sink, she hadn't given them another thought. She’d have to wash it first thing in the morning.
She was standing in nothing but her shift when she noticed the fireplace and her eyes widened when she realized she could see Gideon on the other side of the blaze. A two-sided fireplace? She’d never seen such but it made an odd sort of sense, especially in a cabin no larger than this one was. She wouldn’t have to lug firewood into the bedroom or sleep with the door open now.
The pleased smile curving her lips fell away when she remembered her bath from earlier. She gasped. Had he seen her naked? Could he have? She bent at the waist and looked at him. His face was still in profile. He appeared to b
e sleeping but it was hard to tell through the flames. The fact it was hard to see caused her racing heart to calm.
She pulled back the coverlet on the bed and crawled under the sheets, thoughts of him watching her bathe still lingering in her mind. The fact he may have laid there and watched her caused an ache to draw her stomach tight and a pulse to start thrumming between her legs. Had her bath been observed? The thought he may have watched her didn’t cause the sting of embarrassment or anger it should have but instead, brought a flush of excitement.
Did he watch her? Did he wish he could have seen more as she’d wanted to see more of him?
Her stomach caved in again as heat flooded her belly. Her mind’s eye filled with images of him as she’d bathed his skin, his taut muscles, the sun-darkened skin and the nearly black hair that trailed over his belly and disappeared under the sheet she’d covered him with.
Rubbing a hand over her stomach, every inch of him came to mind and she wanted to touch him again with her bare hands, to feel the texture of his skin beneath her fingertips as she explored. Her breasts ached at the thought and she raised a hand to cup one in her palm. Her nipples were tingling and one small brush against her flesh was enough to make them burn for more.
She closed her eyes, imagining the hand untying her shift and stealing beneath the soft fabric to touch her bare skin was Gideon’s, his long fingers plucking at her taut nipple and pinching it until pleasure caused her womb to clench tight. She caught her lip between her teeth and forced her hand away, balling it into a fist at her side. The two-way fireplace made it easy for him to see her and she lifted her head and looked in his direction. His face was turned away and she breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing she needed was to be caught touching herself, but the mere thought of him seeing her do such a thing brought the ache back so severe she had to clench her thighs together. The pressure only made it more intense. It had been so long since she’d been touched and now that the thought was in her head, she couldn’t seem to rid herself of it.