Come Back

by Melissa Maygrove

  “How’d you sleep?” he asked.

  “Better.” She hadn’t moved from his side. Becca rested her cheek on his chest once more. If not for human needs and chores, she could stay tucked in the crook of his arm forever.

  “C’mon.” He patted her arm. “Let’s get breakfast, then I have something to show you.”

  Becca followed Seth out of the cave and around the other side of the rocky hill that housed it. The snow was melting, but the air was cold. And it only made her colder. The temperature inside the cave was tolerable, but without a fire or activity to keep her warm, a dank chill had settled deep in her bones.

  Lantern in hand, Seth led her into the mouth of another cave. He glanced back at her. “Watch your head.”

  She gathered up her skirt and crouched as they made their way through a narrow tunnel better suited to a child. Just when she thought she might never straighten up again, the tunnel opened into a cavern.

  Seth stood to the side as she stepped around him. The floor rippled in the amber glow and the scent of sulfur met her nose—the room held a spring.

  Becca looked back at him. He was grinning.

  “It’s not quite as deep, but it’s got ledges just like your old one, and it’s just as hot.”

  She slipped off her coat and basked in the relative warmth of the room. “How’d you find it?”

  “I noticed some steam rising out of the hill yesterday evening when I went to tend the horses.” He shrugged off his duster, then gestured to a grouping of rocks behind her. “It’ll be another day or two until we can leave,” he added as they sat. “I thought you’d be more comfortable here.”

  She surveyed the room, now that her eyes had adjusted. “There’s not enough space for the pallet.”

  “No, we’ll have to sleep in the other cave. But we can spend the days in here.” Seth drew her attention to a cloth wrapped bundle near the water’s edge. “I brought towels and soap. I’ll leave if you want to bathe.”

  “Maybe later.”

  They chatted a while, then he rubbed his hands on his trousers and gave a single pat to his thighs. “If you’re not going to get in, I am.” Before she could register his words, much less react, he’d yanked off his boots and was leaving a trail of clothes on his way to the spring.

  Becca gasped and covered her eyes. She rose to leave, feeling her way with one hand.

  Water splashed. “Ahhh.”

  Her head struck rock. “Ouch.”

  “Where are you going?”

  She straightened and stood primly with her back to him and her hands clasped in front of her skirt. “Out. To give you some privacy.”

  “Did I ask for any?”

  “No. But...”

  He let out a longsuffering sigh. “There’s less of me showing than when you bathed me and stitched my side. You don’t have to leave.”

  Becca turned, slowly, her gaze catching on the nearest garment and tracing the trail of them one by one. Shirt. Trousers. Woolens... No drawers. She released a breath. He was still wearing his drawers.

  She lifted her eyes to meet his, feeling like a fool. She’d been in such a rush to leave, she hadn’t even thought to grab her coat.

  Becca settled back onto the rock, and they chatted. She was glad for the warmer temperatures, but the damp air was giving her a chill. She hugged herself with her arms.

  “You cold?”

  “A little.”

  His fingers tapped the stony edge of the pool, and his eyes narrowed, debating. He gave a tilt of his head. “Come get in.”

  Becca chewed her lip.

  “Leave your chemise on if that makes you more comfortable, but don’t sit there shivering when you could be warm in here with me.”

  She pressed her lips together. “Okay.”

  When she didn’t move, he turned and faced the other way.

  Becca turned her back as well. Glancing over her shoulder, she stripped herself of her shoes, stockings, shirts, and skirt, then stepped down into the spring and promptly submerged herself all the way to her chin. She groaned as the delicious heat enveloped her.

  “Can I turn around now?”

  “Yes.”

  He faced her and resettled himself on the spring’s rocky ledge, sending a series of ripples skimming across the surface of the water. The steam rising in smoke-like wisps had dampened his hair so that it clung in wavy tendrils, framing his face. His cheek creased and his eyes twinkled as he studied her—he was holding back a smile.

  Becca rubbed the discomfiture gnawing at her belly. “I suppose you think I’m being childish.”

  The spark of amusement went out. “No, Becca, I don’t. Your modesty is one of the things I like most about you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Turn around and back up a little.” He pulled her to him until she was sitting on the ledge in the vee of his thighs. His hands released her and the weight of her braid lifted. He must have removed the cord that bound the end, because the next thing she felt was his fingers combing through her tresses until the unwoven strands lay loose around her shoulders. “Want me to wash your hair?”

  No one had ever done that for her before, except her ma. “If you want to.”

  “Duck down and get it wet.”

  Becca did as he asked and settled herself on the ledge again. The scent of jasmine mingled with the steam.

  Seth’s hands smoothed her hair, then his fingers scrubbed gentle circles all over her scalp. She let her head loll back and luxuriated in his ministrations.

  “Like that?”

  “Mm.” He’d rendered her boneless, and she was too numb of mind to speak.

  A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. He pulled the lather through to the ends, over and over, then nudged her to dunk again and rinse.

  She sank completely under this time and lingered, then pushed face first through the surface. As she wiped the water from her face and slicked it down her hair, she stood straight up and turned around. “That was nice. Thank you.”

  Seth’s eyes widened and he audibly swallowed. If he’d been facing a stampeding herd of buffalo, he couldn’t have looked any more shocked.

  Becca followed the path of his gaze to her chest, and her eyes went just as wide. The thin, wet fabric of her chemise clung to her breasts like a cobweb and concealed little more. She might as well be naked!

  She plucked the fabric loose, then clamped both arms over her chest. Her pulse raced and her face burned. She didn’t have the guts to look up.

  Before the tears that pricked her eyes could overflow, strong hands reached for her and pulled her close. “It’s okay.” Seth wrapped her in a protective embrace, shielding her body with his.

  “I... I...”

  “Shhh.” He tucked her head under his chin as she buried her face in his chest. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.” He held her for a long moment, then tipped her face up to his. His clear blue eyes held only affection. There was no judgment there.

  One side of his mouth quirked up. “Me and my big ideas.” When his smirk spread into a full grin, Becca smiled, too. She couldn’t help herself.

  Seth turned her around and set her on the ledge with him again. He wrapped her loosely in his arms and leaned back as the water lapped at their shoulders. Or rather her shoulders. It only reached midway up his chest.

  Becca lifted her hands out of the water and examined them, front and back. “We’re going to turn into prunes.”

  “Yes. But we’ll be warm prunes.”

  “True.” Becca shivered at the thought of getting out of the spring. She rested her head in the curve of his shoulder, absorbing the heat and the closeness.

  It was obvious Seth cared about her, enjoyed spending time with her, but why? She was dowdy and naïve. He was handsome and experienced. What did he see in a simple girl like her? And, she frowned, where had he gotten his experience? The thought of him kissing someone else sent a rush of jealousy swirling through her veins. Not that she had any claim on him, but still.


  Curiosity finally sprung the lock decency had on her tongue. “Seth?”

  “Hm.”

  “The day you read the diary, when we... um... when you touched me. How did you know what to do?”

  There was nothing but silence behind her. And one suddenly-tension-filled man.

  Becca hazarded a glance over her shoulder. Seth’s face was unreadable and his lips were pressed into a straight line. Oops. She turned back around, her posture as stiff as his features looked. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

  He blew out a heavy sigh. “No. After taking such liberties with you, I—you deserve to know.”

  Becca turned, facing him, but she swam back and sat on the opposite ledge. She sensed he could use some space. She definitely could.

  Seth opened his mouth, then closed it again. He raked a hand through his hair, plowing deep rows in the damp locks. A crease appeared between his brows, and then he offered a sheepish expression. “This isn’t as easy as I thought.”

  Becca waited patiently, ignoring the flutter of nerves. She wanted to know.

  He blew out another sigh. “After I left home, I went to work on a cattle ranch. On Saturday nights, the single hands—that was nearly all of us—would go into town together and play cards at the saloon. It wasn’t something I enjoyed very much, but the empty bunkhouse could be pretty boring, so I went.”

  Seth paused as if he were gauging her reaction.

  Becca shrugged and nodded. Loneliness and boredom were things she understood.

  “Anyway, I was a greenhorn. The guys gave me grief every chance they got. They figured out I was... that I hadn’t.” He raked his hand through his hair again as a flush crept up his neck.

  “That you were what?”

  The fiery glow shot across his cheeks. “A virgin, Becca. They figured out I’d never been with a woman.”

  “Oh.” A blazing blush climbed her face faster than it had his.

  “They—” He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted uncomfortably on the ledge. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. They insisted I visit one of the women who worked there. I tried to refuse—I did refuse—but they carried me up the stairs and dumped me in her room.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I knew they’d never let up if I left, so I stayed.”

  “Oh.” Becca lowered her gaze.

  “Hear me out. It’s not what you think.”

  A strange ache wormed its way through her heart. How could it be anything else?

  Seth pushed off the ledge and reached for her hand. He pulled her back across the spring until she was standing in front of him, but his eyes were focused on her face, not her chest.

  “The woman wasn’t very old, but she was wise for her years. I guess that kind of life makes a person that way. She could see I was being forced into the situation. She told me I could leave and she wouldn’t tell. But I knew they’d be watching, and if I didn’t stay with her long enough, they’d figure it out. When I explained, the woman reconsidered. She told me the time had already been paid for and that I could stay and talk if I wanted.”

  Seth settled himself on the ledge again and rested his arms loosely around her waist. “When I found out she’d already been paid, I decided to make the best of the situation. Once I worked up the nerve, I asked if she would tell me how to please a woman.”

  “So, all you did was talk?”

  He drew a deep breath. “Not exactly. It started out that way, but... well... those women are forward. She insisted I practice a few of the things she’d told me about. But” —he lifted her chin and peered into her eyes— “I only kissed her and touched her. I was raised to be faithful, and I believe that a man should be with only one woman. Holding to that hasn’t been easy, but it’s what I plan to do.”

  She searched the eyes staring into hers.

  “Do you believe me?”

  She wanted to. “Yes.”

  “Good.” The relief in his tone was doubled in the force of his hug.

  Becca rested her head against his chest. “So, what happened?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The other men. Did they leave you alone after that?”

  Deep laughter vibrated her cheek. “That’s the best part of the story.

  “When the lesson was over, the woman and I sat and talked for a while. I think she enjoyed our conversation so much she lost track of time. When we finally walked back down to the table where everyone was sitting, they checked their watches, grumbled, and told me I’d have to pay for the extra time myself.

  “I reached for my coins, but the woman shook her head. ‘Keep your money,’ she said, loud enough so they could hear. ‘You were so good, the extra half hour is free.’ With that, she planted a kiss on my cheek and walked away. The subject was never brought up again.”

  Seth held her out from him and looked into her eyes. “Do you think less of me, Becca?”

  “No. I’m... glad.”

  “Glad?”

  She fought the urge to look away. “That she taught you those things.”

  Something sparked in Seth’s eyes. He leaned down and touched his lips to hers, tentatively, as if he wasn’t sure she wanted him to.

  She wanted him to.

  Becca parted her lips and brushed his, their breath mingling like the wisps of steam rising off the water around them. He cradled her face with his hands, then tilted his head and deepened the kiss.

  As they explored each other’s mouths, he slid forward on the ledge until he was standing in front of her, heat pouring off him like an inferno. Next to the blaze of his skin, the water felt tepid. One of his hands slid down and splayed across her back, holding her firmly as his tongue took bold possession. His hard body pressed against her belly and he groaned.

  Seth tore his mouth away and rested his forehead on hers. “Lord help me,” he rasped. “Every part of me is screamin’ for me to keep goin’, but...”

  “It’s wrong.”

  She felt him nod.

  Becca turned out of his embrace to leave the spring. She was turning into a prune anyway.

  Seth caught hold of her arm and stopped her. He stoked her cheek with his free hand and kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m attracted to you, Becca—so much, I can hardly control myself—but I care about you too much to take your virtue from you without a future to offer in return. Do you understand?”

  Becca nodded. It nearly killed her, but she understood completely. He didn’t want her.

  Becca put the supper dishes away and took a seat by Seth. It had been a rough two days and they hadn’t traveled very far, but it was good to be back on the trail.

  “How close are we to the border?” she asked, tossing a twig into the fire.

  “We should get there sometime tomorrow.”

  “Then we cross the river, right? At Camp Calhoun?”

  Seth exhaled a long breath. “It’s Camp Yuma now. And, no. We won’t be crossing there.”

  “Why not?”

  “The fort fell on hard times this summer. There was a shortage of food, and most of the soldiers left. Last Sam heard, the fort was under siege.”

  Becca pushed the word past her tightening throat. “Indians?”

  “Yes.”

  Visions of finding her family withered. She should have known Seth’s promise was too good to be true.

  He put his arm around her and drew her to his side. “It’ll be all right. We’re taking a trail farther north.”

  What good would that do? Threat of Indians aside, they needed the ferry.

  Despair drained the strength from her voice. “How will we get across the river?”

  Seth brushed her cheek with his thumb and peered into her eyes with concern. “There are other wagon crossings, Becca. Camp Yuma’s not the only one.” He guided her head to his shoulder and tucked it under his chin. “Don’t you worry. I’ll get you home.”

  Seth lay alone with his head on his saddle bags, staring up into the night sky. Sending Rebecca to sleep in the wagon was
the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. But if he didn’t put some distance between them, he’d never be able to let her go. Even now, the thought of living without her gutted his heart and fractured his soul.

  But he was a man without means. Especially now. He’d spent the bulk of his savings on the wagon and supplies. The best he could hope for was to get her safely to California and into the hands of someone who would take care of her. Someone other than him.

  A humorless chuckle resonated from within his throat. He was getting ahead of himself. They had to make it across the border first. He wasn’t lying when he said there were other ferries, but they were smaller and sometimes poorly maintained. Second to unfriendly Indians, crossing the mighty Colorado was the greatest danger they faced.

  “It’s so big.” The awe in Becca’s voice was as real as the fear spreading its way through her limbs as she stood on the bank of the Colorado and stared at the expanse of water before her. They’d crossed rivers before, but none like this.

  She turned to Seth. “Where’s the ferry?”

  He gestured to his right, where the trail turned and ran parallel to the river. “There’s a scow a few yards upstream.” Seth stared at the water again, his lips drawing into a frown.

  The longer he stared, the more Becca’s insides flopped about like a grounded fish. “What’s wrong?”

  He looked up as if she’d pulled him out of some deep deliberation, then lifted one corner of his mouth. “I’d prefer having another wagon or two here to help us, that’s all. Don’t worry,” he said, tugging the end of her braid free from her fingers. “We’ll make it to the other side. I just need to do some planning so we get across safely.”

  Seth looked at the river again, then glanced at the sky. “Go fix lunch while I scout around. I’ll join you in a bit.”

  Becca set out the leftovers from breakfast and waited by the wagon. To pass the time, she retrieved her drawing pad and began sketching. The river was as beautiful as it was menacing, and she wanted to preserve the memory.

  Shores of red dirt edged a wide current of blue-green water, and rows of purple hills stood guard in the background. Charcoal alone could never do the image justice, so she switched to pastels. The act of drawing calmed her as it always had, but reality clung to the edge of her thoughts. As she sketched and filled and smudged, Becca prayed her picture would make it across unharmed and she and Seth would live to tell the story.