Come Back

by Melissa Maygrove

  Becca gasped at the string of curses coming out of his mouth, then teetered between squeamish shudders and bouts of laughter. A field mouse had run up his pants!

  He swatted his trouser leg and kicked with increasing force. “Damn mouse is going up my drawers!” Seth let another string of curses fly. He grabbed the lump on his thigh with one hand and began unbuttoning his fly with the other.

  Becca clamped her hands over her eyes and turned away.

  At his growl of ‘gotcha,’ she peeked to see him pull a furry brown lump from his pants and fling it, sending it sailing through the air. He mumbled an apology for his language and moved to fasten up. She snapped her fingers shut and tried not to laugh.

  What a fool’s errand; she doubled over and howled.

  Seth stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. Then the corner of his mouth lifted. “You think it’s funny, do ya?”

  She hugged her aching sides and nodded, tears leaking from her eyes.

  “Well, then.” He crouched and picked something up off the ground. “Let’s see how funny you think it is when I put one on you.”

  With a shriek, Becca jumped off the crate and ran, her skirt twisting around her legs and choking her stride. She snatched it and hiked it up so she could run faster, but it wasn’t enough. He was still gaining on her.

  Halfway to the wagon, Seth caught up to her and grabbed her arm.

  “No!”

  He swept her braid aside with the other hand and began wedging his fist into her collar.

  “No! Please!” She begged and begged until she was practically crying.

  His iron grip softened and he chuckled. “I was only kidding, Becca. Look.” He waited for her to lift her face, then opened his fist, revealing a smooth brown stone in the palm of his hand. “No mouse.”

  “You— Argh!” She shoved him away and slapped his chest.

  He laughed louder.

  “C’mon,” he said when she finally stopped scowling, his chest still quivering with fading laughter. “I’m sure the heat has rousted them out by now. Let’s go cook supper.”

  Becca basked in the warmth of the campfire and admired the loaves of bread cooling nearby. She’d baked a hasty one to go with the stew, then baked two more that had time to properly rise. A third batch of dough was mixed to rise overnight and bake in the morning. Might as well make use of the oven while she had it.

  Seth leaned back and propped his elbows on his bedroll. “I’m stuffed.”

  “Me, too.” She sighed. “I guess our treat of jam and warm bread will have to wait until morning.”

  His brows lifted. “You didn’t say anything about jam. For that, I could make room.”

  Becca eyed his flannel shirt stretching across his food-filled belly. “For the love of all things sensible, Seth. If you eat any more, you’ll explode.”

  His easy laughter made her smile.

  “I suppose you’re right,” he said. He motioned for her to move closer. “If you’re going to deny me dessert, at least keep me company for a while.”

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  Becca shook her head and rolled her eyes, but it was for show. She dreaded parting every night as much as he. If not for his insistence she was safer in the wagon, she’d fall asleep next to him under the stars.

  Seth draped a blanket around her shoulders as she took her place at his side. “Warm enough?”

  She nodded and snuggled deeper. The storm had come and gone, but the lower temperatures it brought were here to stay.

  He breathed a contented sigh as he tucked her against his side, and she echoed it. They’d finally reached a place of harmony, an unspoken understanding, it seemed. They still didn’t talk much—most evenings they’d sit in companionable silence—but the awkwardness was gone.

  Becca gazed at the deep indigo horizon, the sparse clouds above turned pink by the disappearing sun. “We’re lucky, you know?”

  “How’s that?”

  “Most people live their entire lives never seeing more than their own hometown. We get to see mountains and rivers and prairies across half of America.” Her voice grew soft with reverence. “I’ll never forget this as long as I live.”

  Seth looked down at her with warmth in his eyes. “Me neither.”

  Becca rose before dawn, but she barely had enough time to bake the last two loaves of bread. A winter storm was coming—one worse than the last—and they had to make it through the mountain pass before nightfall. She looked back at the stove as they pulled away from camp, then faced forward and prepared herself for what was ahead.

  Despite bitter wind biting her cheeks, she rode up front with Seth most of the way.

  His expression matched the sky, turning more dismal by the hour.

  Clouds churned and flurries of snow swirled in the air. When it became so thick it whited out the landscape, she climbed inside the wagon and shivered as Seth guided them the last few miles. Thankfully, he’d spotted a rocky overhang where they could shelter the wagon and weather the storm. They’d lose a few days’ progress, but waiting out the blizzard was the only thing they could do.

  Becca huddled under a quilt, her teeth clattering as loudly as the wagon jolting over the rocky soil. The temperature had to be well below freezing. Even in her heaviest skirt, two shirts and her coat, she was miserably cold.

  “Whoa,” Seth called. The wagon jerked to a halt and boots struck the ground as he jumped down to unhitch the team.

  Without the rattle of boards to compete, the moaning wind took on an eerie sound. She pulled her scarf tighter around her head and pressed her shoulders to her ears to dampen the mournful wails. Ample rations surrounded her, yet she felt bereft and forsaken. How much worse it must have been for the Donners.

  The crunch of grain being scooped sounded to her left. Then, several minutes later, the creaky hinges of the wood box whined on her right.

  Becca hugged her knees and rocked back and forth. They wouldn’t starve, but how would they survive the cold? Even bundled together on her feather tick, sandwiched between layers of skins and quilts, there was no way they would stay warm.

  She cursed her impulsiveness as tears pricked her eyes. The choice had been hers. She was the one who pressed to keep going instead of wintering in the cave and waiting until spring.

  They were going to die, and it was her fault.

  A surge of icy wind hit her and she jerked her head up. Seth stood at the open back bonnet, reaching in her direction. White flakes filled the crevices of his hat, and frost coated his beard. “Bring the deer skin and come with me,” he called over the howl of the storm.

  He took it from her and helped her out of the wagon.

  Gathering up the corners of the quilt, she shielded herself behind his large frame and followed him.

  He led her deeper under the rock ledge to where he’d built a fire. He spread the deer skin on the ground and had her sit on it, then headed back to the wagon. A few trips for supplies later, he joined her and started preparing a simple supper.

  Becca was colder than she’d ever been, but the heat from the blazing logs began to thaw the aching numbness. Maybe they’d survive after all.

  Seth made broth from some leftover turkey and served her some.

  A throaty hum escaped when she wrapped her gloved hands around the steaming cup. She could barely wait for it to cool enough to sip.

  “The storm is worse than I anticipated,” he said as he set a plate full of pemmican and bread between them.

  Becca picked up a bar, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to eat it. She searched his expression for any sign of real fear.

  “The amount of wood it’ll take to keep us warm is going to deplete our supply, and any we gather will be too wet to be of use.”

  “What do we do?”

  “We’ll sleep here tonight. Then, in the morning, I’ll do some exploring and see if I can find a warmer place.”

  Warmer. That was a relative term.

  Becca nibbled at her supper a
nd sipped her broth, her throat clenching with relish as the steaming liquid slid past and heated a trail to her stomach.

  Seth held the plate out to her. “Have some more.”

  “No thanks.”

  “It wasn’t a request. Even with the fire, it’s going to be a cold night. You need to eat as much as you can hold.”

  Grudgingly, she took another piece of bread.

  Seth continued to hold the plate, his brows rising. Only when she’d taken two more pieces of pemmican and a third slice of bread did he relent.

  “Won’t do me any good if I overeat and lose my supper,” she grumbled.

  His cheek creased. “You’ll be fine. I’ve seen how much you can eat, little rabbit.”

  She cut her eyes at him, but her glare of indignation withered under the amusement in his smile. “I don’t eat that much.”

  He barked out a laugh. “You’re the only female I know who can rival me at butchering game and putting it away.”

  Coming from anyone but Seth, that would have hurt her feelings.

  Becca grinned. “Admit it. You’ve met your match.”

  His eyes softened. “That I have.”

  Once they’d eaten all they could, Seth made a thick pallet, using every piece of bedding they had.

  “Take off your boots,” he said as she lowered herself onto the makeshift bed.

  Pulling on his leather gloves, he returned to the campfire. As she unlaced her shoes and tugged them off, he lifted a large stone from the fire’s edge, wrapped it in flannel, and carried over to the pallet. He peeled back the covers at the very bottom and sandwiched it there.

  Becca lay on her side, facing the fire, and stretched out her legs until her stocking feet reached the cloth-covered stone. She could barely stifle the groan of pleasure that erupted when the piping hot lump met her toes and sent a wave of heat melting its way up her frozen legs. “That feels gooood.”

  She opened her eyes at the sound of Seth chuckling. He was squatting in front of her, holding another flannel-wrapped stone. He set it near her waist and covered her up with a heavy layer of blankets and skins.

  “What about you?” she asked as he shrugged off his duster and set his holster and hat aside.

  “I’ll be fine.” He climbed in behind her and tucked her against him like he’d done their last night in the hut. “I have you to keep me warm.”

  The chill of his intrusion faded, and Becca sighed. She was wedged between a blazing fire and a warm, strong man. And she was safe. She drifted into sleep, watching firelight dance on the rocky ceiling and thanking her maker for Seth.

  Becca opened her eyes to a blanket of white. The air was still, and snow covered everything as far as the eye could see. A sleepy smile spread across her face. Save being dimly aware of Seth getting up a few times to add wood to the fire and swap cold stones for heated ones, she’d slept soundly. Better than she had in days. She closed her eyes and snuggled deeper into the muscular arms that had held her all night long.

  “Morning,” a husky voice said from behind her.

  “Good morning.”

  “Sleep well?”

  “Mmhm. Very well... You?”

  “Too well. I don’t want to get up.” He sighed. “But I have to. The horses need tending, and I need to find us a better place to stay.”

  Seth got out of bed and she started to also.

  “Stay put,” he said. “Let me stoke the fire first.”

  Once fresh logs were flaming, he donned his outerwear and went to tend Cyrus and Zeus. She stayed behind to make coffee and breakfast—more pemmican and bread per his insistence.

  Seth returned and stood by the fire, his frosty beard and reddened skin a testament to the cold. He tugged off his gloves and flipped his hands back and forth.

  “How’d the horses fare?”

  “They’ll survive. I gave them extra feed, and there’s a spring where they’re sheltered, so they’ve got plenty of water.”

  “Where are they?”

  He hooked a thumb toward the entrance. “Just around the corner.”

  Becca held a cup out to him. “Have some coffee.”

  He joined her and they ate in silence. When they were done, he rose and tugged his gloves back on. “I’m going to be gone a while. Want me to tuck you in before I go?”

  “No thanks. I’ll be okay.”

  Seth studied her for a long moment, then squatted down right in front of her. “I’ll probably be back by lunch. Nightfall for sure.” He took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb across the back of it. “I’ll be careful not to get hurt or stranded. You have my word.”

  Becca followed Seth into the cave he’d found. It was small, with a low, solid ceiling, but it was deep and it would serve their needs for the next few days. They arranged their belongings and began bedding down by candlelight.

  “Take off your coat.”

  Becca sucked in a breath and fought the urge to flee. The man who’d said it this time meant her no harm, but it didn’t matter. Her body had already reacted. She willed her heart to stop its frantic pounding as her fingers clumsily worked the buttons, numb from the image Seth’s words had brought to mind.

  He folded back the covers and glanced at her. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” She lay her coat aside and rubbed her upper arms.

  Once she’d removed her boots and climbed into bed, Seth covered them up and blew out the flame. “G’night.”

  “Night.”

  She was warm and comfortable, but sleep wouldn’t come. Surrounded by still air and blackness, she tossed and turned as every frightful image her memory possessed flashed through her mind—the day she walked back from the stream and found an empty prairie... the day the cry of a mountain lion echoed through the hills behind her... the day the men found her.

  The snapping of twigs underfoot was so crisp it made her flinch. Ray lunged at her, but this time he pinned her beneath him and began tearing at her skirts. “No! Don’t!”

  “Becca.”

  “Get away from me!” She shoved at the huge man on top of her, beating his chest with her fists.

  His grip loosened and she heard a strange hiss. A sudden light made her squint, but she didn’t stop struggling. She had to get away.

  “Becca.” He grabbed her wrists before she could land another blow. “What’s wrong?”

  How does he know my name?

  Becca lay there, chest heaving, heart pounding, until she summoned the courage to open her eyes. She raised her gaze to Seth staring back at her, lines of concern on his face etched deeper by candlelight. He was lying next to her, facing her. Not on top of her.

  Her lip trembled when she realized where she was.

  He released her wrists.

  “I must’ve been dreaming. I thought—” She reached out a shaky hand and smoothed his shirt. “I’m sorry I hit you.”

  The air between them was thick and silent. “I’m sorry I led them to you, Becca.”

  She touched his lips with her fingers and shook her head, then cupped the side of his face and smiled at him. He’d saved her. The last thing he should feel is guilty. “It’s my fault. I should have gone with you the first time. If I had...”

  Becca closed her eyes at the memory of all he’d endured for her, then opened them to tortured eyes searching hers. Her gaze dropped to his lips and she lifted her face until she felt his breath on her skin. She glimpsed the turmoil once more before closing her eyes and closing the distance. Softly, she brushed his lips with hers.

  Seth cradled her face with his hands and returned her kiss with such tenderness it made her cry. How was she supposed to save her heart for another when it was already taken?

  Her fingers threaded through his hair as he kissed her with increasing urgency. Duty clashed with desire. She shouldn’t do this, but she couldn’t stop herself. His tender assault filled her with simmering heat and stripped away her restraint. Desire won.

  Seth tore his mouth from hers and kissed a fervid trail up her
jaw, across her forehead, down her nose. Ragged breaths stirred her lashes and lips grazed her cheek, smearing the salty drop that clung there. She turned her face, her mouth eagerly seeking his, but he wrapped her in his arms and clutched her to his chest before she made contact.

  Seth held Rebecca close and willed his body to calm. He couldn’t let lust overtake him. Not now. And certainly not with her.

  She was pure and vulnerable, and what he felt for her was more than some base craving. She piqued his want and cooled it all at once. He’d lusted after women many times—what man didn’t? But this was different. He wanted to know everything about the woman in his arms, be everything to her. Not just some shame-worthy tryst or a temporary lover.

  Her precious kiss had affected more than the hunger inside him—the fire that burned for her night and day. It soothed his mind and gripped his heart. She knew his darkest secrets, yet she didn’t despise him, didn’t turn away. No. She looked on him with compassion. With adoration even.

  Her innocent eyes couldn’t hide the feelings she had for him, even though she tried. It was obvious she struggled with their situation as much as he. And they were both losing.

  So how come losing felt so much like winning?

  Dare he let himself hope she might choose him? Might find herself free to choose him?

  Seth sighed and rolled to his back, tucking Becca against his side. He was weary of fighting a battle he had no desire to fight.

  Becca ran the tips of her fingers lightly over her lips, recalling the kiss Seth had given her in the night. It had started as fine summer mist that quickly turned into a downpour. And she’d welcomed it—had willed it to wash them away, far from duty and lingering promises.

  A strong arm tightened around her and muscles bunched under her cheek. Seth planted a kiss on the top of her head.

  She tilted her head back and looked into warm eyes crinkled by an easy smile. The whole room glowed amber. He’d left the candle burning the rest of the night.