Savage storm

by Conn, Phoebe

  "It is no wonder Iris is attractive, she's done nothing more strenuous than lift her fork to her mouth since this trip began. I know how some of the girls look; they look as though they've sacrificed a great deal of themselves in an attempt to save the lives of near strangers. I think they're the best of the lot and I'll damn well tell our friends that too!"

  Shocked by the ferocity of Jason's anger, Clayton needed a moment in which to find his voice to respond. "I did not realize

  you would take my compliment for Iris so adversely."

  Jason was nowhere near finished with the tirade heM hegun and he continued in the same harsh tone. "I warned you how difficult this trip would be for the girls when you first approached me with the plan to bring mail-order brides over the Oregon Trail. I should never, never have consented to so dangerous a scheme! We're going to remain camped here at Fort Hall until every one of these young women is the beauty she was when we left Independence. I'll put some weight back on them if I have to make them drink cream, but by God, I'll not have anyone tell me Iris looks good when she's no more than the image of pampered self-indulgence and those who look like walking death are some of the most courageous young women I've ever known!"

  Clayton still had no idea why his remark had angered Jason so greatly. "You're taking yourself rather seriously, aren't you? A few days' rest will help your mood too. That Iris didn't choose to risk her life needlessly was merely prudent, not selfish. I mean no disrespect to those young women who did put in so many long days to nurse the sick. Of course their efforts are commendable."

  Disgusted that Clayton would still ignore the truth, Jason turned away, but he decided right then to make sure that the young women he thought were the most beautiful became the prettiest as well. Rummaging through his belongings, he found his sketch pad and, taking pen and ink, went to find a few girls who wouldn't mind being his models for an hour or so.

  Gabrielle was the only one who had known Jason had made the sketches of the bachelors until he asked Erica to pose for him that day. Soon he was surrounded by curious young women who were all amazed to find the wagon master so accomplished an artist. With a careful glance and a few deft strokes he created such a stunning portrait of Erica the others were all eager to have him draw them as well.

  "I plan to do a sketch of each one of you, ladies," Jason explained with a smile. ''I know the first few days we're in

  Oregon City you'll need time to rest and to see to your wardrobes, so my drawings will have to keep the bachelors satisfied until you're ready to see them yourselves. I am certain the men are as curious about you as you are about them, but it won't hurt to keep them waiting if they have at least some idea of how lovely you all are."

  Gabrielle watched from the sidelines. She had seldom seen Jason in so charming a mood, and her companions positively glowed with the warmth of his many compliments as he drew their portraits. While at first she thought he was selecting his subjects at random she soon noticed there was a pattern to his choices. He was taking those among them who had served as nurses and she knew how dearly that selfless service had cost them. None of them had come down with the disease, but they all looked as though they had been ill. They were pale and thin and their hair was as brittle as straw while those who had done no more than sit in the shade of their wagons and chat while the cholera epidemic swept the camp were the picture of health. Yet Gabrielle had heard not a single complaint from the women who had done the most, not one word spoken in regret. She was proud to think that none of them thought their looks too high a price to have paid for the lives they'd saved. That Jason clearly thought so too was so dear of him. She loved him all the more for it. He was such a complex individual, passionate, but caring deeply about others. She knew better than to mention how much she admired his purpose, however, and pretended to be surprised when he asked her to come and sit down with him so he could make a sketch of her.

  Jason tried to suppress his smile; he knew his expression would give away the depth of his regard for Gabrielle should anyone look closely. He still thought her the prettiest of them all, but her beauty was difficult to separate from her vivid coloring and he swiftly grew discouraged. "I am sorry. Miss MacLaren, but I simply can't do you justice with pen and ink and I have no paints with me."

  *'Do you enjoy painting too, Mr. Royal?" Gabrielle asked

  curiously, wondering why he continued to deny his talent was an extraordinary gift.

  "I have had little opportunity to do any painting, hut I like it well enough." Jason stopped to look up at her again, he had the planes of her face correctly positioned, the delicate curves accurately drawn but without being able to provide the glorious red for her hair or the bright clear blue for her eyes he felt totally frustrated. When two men from their group approached him, he was glad for the excuse to take a break and lay his pen aside. "Is there something you need, gentlemen?"

  Jesse Martin cleared his throat nervously before he spoke. He had not expected to find Jason surrounded by pretty young women, but it did not occur to him to ask to speak with the wagon master in private. "Me and Elmer was up at the fort just now, and we heard some men talking about taking the trail to Gilifornia."

  When he paused Jason guessed the question Jesse was about to ask and he rose to his feet to respond. "Yes. There's a trail which leads south. It cuts above the Great Salt Lake, then heads west. I wouldn't recommend that you take it now though. You'll reach the Sierra Nevada range too late in the fall and you might end up like the Donner party did last year. I know you don't want to risk that."

  Elmer Radford frowned, clearly confused by that reference. "I heard the name, but I don't recall what happened to them. Was it bad?"

  Jason glanced over at the young women who were listening with such rapt interest. He'd thought they would have heard of the tragedy, but apparently several had not for they looked only curious rather than ill.

  "It was as bad as possible," he replied softly. "In late October the Donner party was trapped by snow storms so fierce that passage through the mountains was impossible. The men were too weak to raise cabins so their families had to survive as best they could with no more than tents half-buried in snowdrifts for shelter. Their livestock froze to death, and

  finally they had no choice but to consume human flesh rather than starve. Help didn't reach them until March, and by then only forty-five of the eighty-seven who'd been in the Donner party were still alive, and barely alive at that. I imagine all of them will havenightmaresfor the rest of their days. Now if you want to try to reach California, by all means go. But don't say you weren't warned of what to expect if you do."

  "Well now, I heard Oregon was right pretty," Jasse mumbled to his friend.

  Elmer nodded his head up and down rapidly. "Since we started out for Oregon I'd say that's where we should go."

  "I'll be happy to answer your questions should you have any others," Jason offered politely, certain his gruesome tale had ended their plans of leaving the wagon train.

  "No, sir. Thank you, but we got no other questions, none at all." The two men nearly broke into a run as they left, their fright plain in their terrified gaze.

  Jason smiled as he turned back to the brides. "I'm sorry you had to hear that. It's a sad story and if you'd not heard it before, it's a most shocking one. But you needn't worry for I'll not allow anything so desperate to happen to you. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm out of the mood to draw and I'll have to do the rest of your portraits tomorrow."

  Easily understanding his request, the girls drifted away in twos and threes whispering amongst themselves of the horrors of the Donner party's fate. They had endured considerable hardships themselves, but nothing to compare with the unspeakable suffering that group had faced.

  Gabrielle waited a moment as Jason gathered up his things and then came forward. "May I see the sketch you made of

  Embarrassed, Jason handed it to her. "It's not nearly good enough, Gabrielle, not half good enough. You are so much prettier than that poor dr
awing makes you appear."

  "Why thank you." Gabrielle was pleased by his compliment but she thought the sketch quite good. "I look exactly like this,

  Jason, or at least I did. That's what you're doing isn't it? Trying to make all of us look as pretty as you possibly can, as pretty as we used to be?"

  "Are my motives as transparent as that?" he inquired softly. "With a few days rest and some good food, you'll all be the beauties you were. I hope none of you are worried about your appearance because I'm certainly not."

  "Tell me the truth, Jason, I look frightful. I know I do." Yet Gabrielle was laughing, as if the matter were of slight concern.

  "I'll not tell you what I think if you don't already know. Now give me that sketch. I promise to do a better one next time."

  "Next time? You needn't make another one, Jason. This one is fine." Gabrielle saw no reason for him to draw her portrait a second time.

  Jason realized if he made only one sketch he'd have none to save for himself, but that was too sad a point to ponder so he placed the drawing of her with the others. "I am the artist here, and if I'm not satisfied with my first sketch I always make another, I might make fifty before I get it right but I'll expect you to humor me and pose as often as I need you to model."

  "Whatever you like, Jason. I only wanted to make things easy for you," Gabrielle stated sincerely.

  "E^sy?" Jason's temper exploded at that comment. To him it was totally erroneous. "You have never made one damn thing easy for me, lady, and I doubt you ever will!" He walked back to his tent then, half the sketches completed but his mood no better than when he'd started them.

  The next afternoon Jason again drew the brides' portraits, teasing them so they'd smile prettily as they posed. Gabrielle was too intrigued by his talent to stay away so she sat behind him to watch him work. She was as fascinated as before by the ease with which he captured the young women's expressions. When he turned to ask her to sit for him again, she was flattered, but tried to refuse.

  "Have you finished all the others?"

  "Every last one," Jason boasted proudly. "But I still want to do yours again."

  Gabrielle knew if she argued she'd draw more attention to herself than if she complied with his request so she moved to where his models had been sitting without further comment. She attempted to get comfortably seated, but he wasn't satisfied and came forward to tilt her chin slightly with his fingertips.

  "There. Now stop wiggling. This is difficult enough to accomplish without trying to focus upon a moving target. Now just relax, fill your mind with pleasant thoughts and hold still for a few minutes."

  Gabrielle took a deep breath and, suitably composed, tried to let her mind go blank. But she was too restless, her thoughts of him far too compelling to ignore. He was so different from her. Sit still and be quiet so he can draw, she told herself. Why does he never say come and sit beside me and tell me what is on your mind? What is he afraid I will say? she wondered.

  The darkness of Gabrielle's mood was readily apparent to an artist's keen eye. The line of her brow, the set of her chin were all wrong; but Jason found himself drawing her the way she looked when she smiled with delight. She had very expressive features, and as he completed his sketch he considered giving her the smoldering glance passion infused into her gaze. But he decided to attempt that when he had a few minutes alone to draw her portrait from memory. He could draw a full-length nude he realized with a chuckle. It would be superb but he'd never dare show her such a sketch for she'd insist he destroy it. Nevertheless, he promised himself to draw it at his first opportunity and keep it for his own enjoyment. Pleased with himself for having such an intriguing idea Jason offered Gabrielle a suggestion. "Try concentrating upon no more than the blue of the sky for I want you to look your best. Think how eagerly the men have been awaiting your arrival. These

  drawings are supposed to whet their appetites not cool their ardor."

  Gabrielle sighed impatiently. "Must you have two drawings of me? There's none of Joshua."

  'That's beside the point." Jason didn't want to argue. He knew Gabrielle could be a most difficult woman when she decided to oppose him, but the sketch he'd made was quite striking despite the downcast expression she wore. "You make an interesting subject. I'd like to do a profile, but if you're not willing to pose graciously, we'd both be wasting our time."

  Gabrielle glanced over at the girls who were still sitting nearby. They were watching him work and listening attentively. However, she knew the real message in Jason's words was not the obvious one. It was ridiculous to sit there seeming to be exchanging polite conversation when the emotions which flowed between them were such volatile ones.

  "You've never wasted a second of my time, Mr. Royal. I'm sorry to hear you think I would waste yours." She stood up then, intent upon leaving his presence as swiftly as possible but a sudden wave of dizziness obscured her vision and plunged her into darkness.

  "Gabrielle!"

  Jason flew across the distance which separated them, catching her limp body in his arms just before she collapsed on the ground. She had fainted so suddenly he was terrified she might never again awaken, and he carried her to his tent rather than to her wagon. He placed her gently upon his blankets and rubbed her wrists as he called her name in a frantic plea. She was too pale, her fair skin as white as ivory, and he turned away for a moment, searching for the bottle of brandy Clayton kept for just such emergencies. Healthy young women did not faint for no reason, but Gabrielle clearly had not regained her strength since she'd left the Duffy family who were again able to care for themselves. When at last her long lashes fluttered slightly, he Ufted her head and gave her a sip of the fiery

  brandy. He set the cup aside when she struggled to sit up by herself. "Just a minute, Gabrielle. You must be more careful. I don^t want to see you faint again. It was too great a scare.''

  Gabrielle frowned slightly as she lifted her fingertips to her aching forehead. She was so surprised to find herself in his tent that for a moment she could not recall how she'd come to be there.

  "I must have stood up too rapidly, that's all. I'll be fine now.

  "Excuse me just a moment."

  Jason went out to tell the young women who'd followed them that Gabrielle was fine but he wanted her to rest awhile before she returned to her wagon. Their curiosity satisfied, the girls began to disperse. Erica had gathered up his art materials and she now handed them to him before she hurried away with the others. Glad they would be alone, Jason returned to Gabrielle and knelt by her side.

  "I want you to rest for an hour or two before you try to stand up. Just go to sleep and I'll call you when supper is ready."

  "Fm not a baby, Jason. I don't require a nap each afternoon," Gabrielle protested immediately, not wanting his sympathy since she didn't feel she deserved it.

  "Believe me I know full well that you are not a baby, but I want you to rest all the same." The color was slowly returning to her cheeks. She looked so pretty that he leaned over to kiss her lips lightly, but when his mouth touched hers he could not bear to draw away. He slipped his hand gently behind her head to hold her fast, his mouth slowly plundering hers until he had at last drunk deeply of the deUcious sweetness he had longed to savor.

  Breathless, Gabrielle had to ask, "Have you become so reckless of late you will now seduce women in your own tent rather than insisting upon discretion?"

  Reacting instantly to her sarcasm, Jason't expression grew stern. "Since that is not a question you should even have to

  ask, I will offer no answer. Now just go to sleep and I will awaken you later as I promised." But he didn't. She was sleeping so deeply he decided to let her rest until her body's need for food caused her to awaken naturally.

  Clayton was as shaken as Jason when he heard what had happened. '*0f course you were correct in bringing her here to rest. Her wagon is too busy a place to allow her the proper quiet. It is damned awkward though. She'll have to go back there before dark, I'm sure you must kn
ow that."

  Jason gave his friend a long, slow glance while he wondered if Clayton truly thought men and women only found each other irresistible at night. Or perhaps actions which were considered respectable in the light of day apparently took on an alarming sense of impropriety under the moon. But he didn't bother to argue with Clayton since the man's misconceptions worked to his advantage.

  '*I intend to let her sleep right where she is. Clay. The nights are warm and we'll be comfortable under the stars. I'll not awaken Gabrielle when it could be detrimental to her health. I've made no secret of the fact she's here, nor will I try to hide her presence if she stays. If there's any gossip, then I'll take the blame for it, not that lovely woman who's obviously exhausted."

  Clayton took a deep breath, ready to argue the matter further until he saw the look in Jason's deep gray eyes. It was too confident for him to risk a challenge. 'The young women are my responsibiHty, Jason. If she sleeps in our tent tonight, I will stay awake to see that her dreams are not disturbed. I will then be able to squelch all gossip before it begins."

  "From whom do you think you will be protecting her, just from me?" Jason chuckled at that thought. ''I've already said I won't wake her. Do you imagine I enjoy making love to unconscious women or that I have so smooth an approach she'd not awaken were I to join her in our tent? Just what sort of man do you believe me to be. Clay?"