by Conn, Phoebe
"Please forget it. Beau. I have." She slid into the chair opposite his and took a bite of her scrambled eggs. "The day is clear. Wherever you're bound your ride will be a pleasant one. Your horse enjoyed his stay, by the way."
That she was feeling well enough to tease him was hardly encouraging, but Beau wasn't offended by her jest. "I'm not ashamed for you to know I hoped to stay the night, only about what happened."
Gabrielle's glance was direct as she looked up. "Two good friends had dinner together and then said good night. That's all that happened. Beau, nothing more. If you continue to look so guilty I'll begin to think you're imagining things."
"Are we still friends then?" he asked hopefully, not really daring to believe she had forgiven him.
'The very best," Gabrielle reassured him. He looked so young and vulnerable that she reminded herself he was only twenty. He was a handsome boy, but a boy still rather than the man she'd thought him to be at eighteen. She reached for his hand then, to give his fingers a fond clasp. "Will you please let me know where you are if you do go to Gilifornia? If you can send no more than one line at Christmas each year I will be grateful to receive it."
"And you'll be here?" Beau asked, already knowing what her answer would be.
"Right here." Gabrielle gave his fingers another affectionate squeeze and then returned her hand to her lap. "I'll have to go out and see if there is any damage to the roof from the storm. There are branches strewn all over the yard and cleaning them up will keep me busy all day."
"No. I'll do it before I go," Beau insisted. "If you've lost any shingles I'll replace those too."
Gabrielle was about to argue with him, but since he seemed so sincere she accepted his help graciously. 'Thank you. I knew it rained a great deal here, but I did not realize the storms were so severe."
'They usually aren't. Last night's was a fluke." By the time Beau finished his breakfast Gabrielle's easy conversation had restored his mood to its usually good-natured state, and he went out to begin work while she washed the dishes. He spent the rest of the morning gathering up fallen branches. Then when he found the roof intact, he volunteered to chop some wood so she'd not run low before Jason returned. He had just carried an armload inside to stack beside the fireplace when he heard a buggy roll into the yard.
Gabrielk went to the door, and seeing Clayton Home with Iris, she quickly removed her apron and tossed it aside. "Do you know Clayton Home?" she called over her shoulder to Beau.
"Never had the pleasure,*' he replied. He brushed off his hands and stood ready to meet the guests as Gabrielle showed them inside.
Iris' brown eyes filled with an amused sparkle when she saw Beau and she purred sweetly, "Well, Clay, perhaps Gabrielle is not nearly so lonely as we'd imagined." When Gabrielle introduced the handsome young man as a friend from Liberty, Iris thought if she'd had such a good-looking friend at home she'd never have left. He seemed ill-at-ease, every muscle of his powerful body tense as if he expected a fight and she couldn't help but wonder why.
"Do you live nearby, Mr. Ramsey?" Clayton sat down beside Iris, hoping that what appeared obvious at first glance wasn't true.
"No, but a journey of any distance is worth making to see Gabrielle." Beau perched on the edge of his chair, wondering why Gabrielle's two well-dressed visitors were staring at him so rudely. His parents had had few callers so he was not accustomed to entertaining guests, but these people made him uneasy just by the curiosity in their glance.
"Why, yes of course. She is a most charming woman," Clayton cleared his throat nervously, hoping only to complete the business which had brought him there without letting his imagination run wild. Because the boy was handsome and fond of Gabrielle, that didn't mean she returned his affection. "Jason asked me to come and get you, my dear. He was emphatic in his directions, in fact. He said you'd be far happier living in my house while he's away than you'd be here all alone. Why I imagine you must have been terrified by last night's storm."
Gabrielle glanced over at Beau, hoping he'd have the sense not to volunteer the information that she'd not been alone and
he kept still. 'Thank you, Mr. Home. I know Jason was worried about me, but he left so hurriedly we really had no time to discuss what I wanted to do. As you can see, I'm just fine. I'm fully capable of caring for myself here and I intend to do just that until Jason returns home."
Clayton attempted once more to reason with the attractive young woman. "That's admirable, of course, Gabrielle, but Jason trusted me to see to your welfare in his absence. I cannot shirk that duty. I must insist that you pack your belongings and come with us now."
Beau saw Gabrielle's determined frown, and having heard her refuse the man's invitation, he entered the conversation on her behalf. "Since Mrs. Royal says she wants to stay here, you must accept her decision. If her husband were really so worried about her welfare, he'd not have entrusted her care to others. He'd have remained here to look after her himself."
Clayton was astonished by that interruption. He had seen the glance that passed between the young man and Gabrielle at the mention of the storm, and if what that look implied were true, he'd not permit it to continue. "Forgive me if I sound rude, Mr. Ramsey, but you are merely a casual visitor who will soon be gone and—"
Beau smiled with undisguised delight. "I'll stay as long as Gabrielle needs me," he offered generously.
Not wishing to see the conversation deteriorate any further, Gabrielle rose to her feet. "There's really no need to argue over what I'm to do, gentlemen. I've made up my mind to stay here since this is my home, and while I thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Home, I can't accept it. Now may I offer you some tea?"
When Clayton was too flustered to respond. Iris replied for him. "Why yes, I'd love some. Why don't you just bring a tray? I'm certain we can convince the gentlemen to join us." Her words dripped with sweetness as she eyed Beau. In his manner and dress, he looked like no gentleman she'd ever seen, but she was enormously intrigued by the young man all the
same. When Gabrielle excused herself to prepare the tea. Iris inquired with a teasing smile, "Since you are dressed like a trapper, Mr. Ramsey, may I assume that you are one?"
"Yes," Beau replied. He thought of several names to describe what she obviously was, but he was too courteous to question her in return.
"That must be very exciting work," Iris continued in an effort to draw him into further conversation.
"No. It isn't. The fur trade is no longer as profitable as it once was, while the work is every bit as hard." He gave her a stare so cold he was certain she'd understand the subject was closed, and the three of them sat in an uneasy silence until Gabrielle returned to pour tea.
"I hope to come into town on Saturday. Have any other wedding plans been announced?" Gabrielle tried to behave as a gracious hostess should, but she was afraid she wasn't succeeding.
"Why yes," Iris replied with a satisfied grin. "Marlene is marrying Charles, three girls from the other wagons are getting married as well—and one other engagement has just been announced." She linked her arm in Clayton's then and waited for him to speak.
"Ah, yes. Iris has done me the honor of agreeing to become my wife," Clayton announced with obvious pride.
While Beau simply stared, Gabrielle's smile was genuine.
"How marvelous. Truly I do believe you are perfect for each other." Iris had wanted a mature and wealthy gentleman, and Clayton certainly fit that description. He'd not regained any of the weight he'd lost during their arduous journey, and he'd continued to keep his blond curls trimmed so they flattered his features. While he still had a fatherly manner, she knew that was precisely what Iris had hoped to find. She recalled how often she'd seen them together recently and realized if she had not been so preoccupied with her own concerns she might have seen their engagement as a real possibility rather than a surprise. "Have you set a date for the wedding?"
"No," Clayton responded regretfully. "I want to wait for Jason's return so he can be my best
man. I asked him before he left and he agreed."
**Vm certain he'll be proud to do it." With conscientious effort, Gabrielle kept the conversation flowing, questioning her visitors about other romances which might be moving toward marriage. Then she encouraged Clayton to talk about Oregon City so Beau would not feel left out of the discussion. When they had all finished their tea, Clayton thanked her politely for the refreshments and escorted Iris to the door.
"We will see you on Saturday then." He knew better than to ask Gabrielle to reconsider her decision to remain at home, especially while Beau stood by her side, but he meant to do it again when he saw her later in the week at his home.
Beau waited until Clayton's buggy had reached the main road before he spoke. "I will stay if you want me to, Gabrielle, as a friend, I mean."
Gabrielle shook her head. "I appreciated your help today. Beau, but you can't stay here. It wouldn't be good for either of us. I can't depend on you and you mustn't depend on me. We have separate lives to live now, and we each must go our own way.
Beau nodded, not pleased with her decision but understanding it. "I'll finish with the wood and then I'll go, but if I may I'll come by to say goodbye before I go to California."
"Please do, I would like that."
Later Gabrielle gave Beau an early supper, then waved goodbye as he rode away. Suddenly the thought that she would see him only one more time was a surprisingly painful one.
When she arrived at Clayton's home on Saturday, Gabrielle found herself the object of such suspicious stares she could not imagine what was afoot until Erica drew her aside.
"It's Iris again, as always. She's told everyone you've taken up with some good-looking young trapper and he's keeping you company until Jason comes home. I know that's absurd, but she'll not keep still about it. She says she saw the man with
her own eyes. I swear if the bitch had no gossip she'd make up some, but the others seem to believe her about this."
Gabrielle took a deep breath and held it, attempting to stifle her temper before it erupted and caused an unfortunate scene. "I'd Hke nothing better than to rip out her tongue, but she and Clayton came out to visit me the day after the storm and met a friend of mine from Liberty. He's not Hving with me—that is absurd—but you and I both know Iris' imagination is a lurid one.
"Well, what are you going to do?" Erica wanted to know.
"Nothing. I'll just ignore that lie and let it die a natural death. Now hadn't we better leave for the church?"
Erica reached out to take Gabrielle's arm as they walked outside to the buggies for the ride to the church. "Michael went with Jason. It seems he knew the Whitmans well and felt he should go."
"Did he say anything to you before he left?"
"Only goodbye. I guess that's it, isn't it? If he'd wanted me to wait for him, he would have asked me to marry him," Erica mused sadly.
"Perhaps not. Jason was in an awful state when he left our house, and I said none of the things I wanted to. Maybe all Michael needs is some time away to realize how fond of you he's become."
"If he is in fact fond of me." Erica climbed into the first buggy and made herself comfortable for the brief ride. "Aren't you frightened to stay alone in Jason's house? Or if not, aren't you terribly lonely? I know I'm bored to distraction without Michael's company."
The two friends looked at each other, both having the same idea, but Gabrielle spoke first. "Why don't you come stay with me? It won't be a vacation—there's plenty of work—but it would be fun if you were there. At least neither of us would be bored while the men are away."
Erica hugged Gabrielle and then gave a delighted squeal, but when they told Clayton of their plan, he wasn't at all certain he
shouldn't simply forbid it. "I want you to come here, Gabrielle. I don't want Erica to go all the way out there! Why is it you young ladies can't see what's best when it is so obvious to me?"
"Oh, please, Mr. Home. We'll come into town every Saturday to shop and to see you." Erica smiled coquettishly, hoping to charm him in the same manner Iris did, and to her delight, it worked.
"Well, all right. But I'll only agree to one week at a time. You must come to report any problems you've had, and if I say you must come back. Erica, you must do so without argument. As for you Gabrielle—"
"I will see that Erica comes each week to receive your permission, Mr. Home, but I am a married woman and need no permission from you to live in my own house." She smiled sweetly too, knowing he could not argue with her logic no matter what Jason had insisted he do.
Clayton's brow furrowed in a deep frown as he looked at the vibrantly beautiful redhead. At least if Erica were in residence he would be reasonably certain Beau Ramsey wouldn't be. That thought settled the issue. "Until next week then, ladies."
"Until next week."
After thanking him again, the young women packed up Erica's belongings and then. Erica astride the black mare and Gabrielle upon Sunny's back, they were swiftly on their way.
^/u^/t^^EJW
Jason sat down wearily, leaned back against a tree trunk and rested his arms across his knees. Going up the Columbia River was a far more difficult task than floating downstream and he was exhausted. With strenuous paddling they had traversed a fair distance, but they'd also had to carry their canoes past long stretches of rapids. There was never a time when the going wasn't hard. He knew he'd pushed himself as far as he possibly could that day and there was not a man among them who could go farther. "We'll make camp here!" he shouted when he'd fmally caught his breath.
Michael Jenkins sprawled across a heap of leaves by Jason's side, gasping like a fish out of water as he tried to speak. "Do you plan to keep up such a brutal pace the whole way?"
"No," Jason assured him with a wicked grin. "Tomorrow we'll go faster."
"Dear God." Michael put his face in the damp leaves and waited for death to overtake him. When the Grim Reaper failed to appear he looked up again. "Your name will become a legend after this. Royal. If any of us survive to tell the tale that is."
"You'll survive. I'm asking none of you to do what I haven't done myself," Jason pointed out matter-of-factly.
"That may be true, but few of us have your stamina, or is it simply rage?" Michael inquired curiously.
Jason shot him an evil glance as he replied honestly, "It is both."
Turning over on his back, Michael gazed up through the branches which filtered the last rays of the setting sun. "How far are you willing to take this. Royal?'*
That he wanted to drive the Indians farther north without slaughtering every last one of them was a secret Jason planned to keep. The men who'd volunteered to go after the Giyuse were out for blood, but he was certain he would have their respect by the time they came within sight of the Indians' camp. He planned to use that respect then. It was pointless to reveal his plan to Michael Jenkins now, however. "I intend to teach the Cayuse a lesson they'll never forget. They'll not dare to butcher another settler because they'll know it'll mean a war in which their own families will be at risk. Is that clear enough for you?"
"Very."
Michael rested only a minute longer and then got to his feet to join the men who were setting up the camp. He was no killer, but it was clear to him that Jason Royal certainly was. He shuddered to think how the man must treat Gabrielle, but since she'd had her heart set on marrying him he'd waste no sympathy on her. His thoughts strayed swiftly to Erica then, and he wondered if he'd find the charming young woman married to someone else by the time he returned home. He was the only one of the bachelors who'd volunteered for this mission so there were plenty of men left in Oregon City to keep her entertained.
"Blast it all!" he swore loudly as he tripped over a gnarled root and nearly landed on his face in the dirt. He'd been so tired he'd not noticed the obstacle in his path. He looked around quickly, hoping no one had seen him since he didn't want to be the butt of any jokes, but fortunately the men were all occupied and paying no attention to him. He knew the oth
ers' names though he could call few among them friends, and he relaxed, relieved that his clumsiness hadn't been noted. He'd
volunteered to join the group, not only because he'd thought he owed it to the Whitmans but because he'd needed to get out of Oregon City for a while. He'd felt that he couldn't sort out his feelings for Erica when he saw her every day. Clayton Home had returned Lewis Bradley's money, and he'd heard the man had gone after his Indian woman to bring her and their son back home. Erica had never mentioned Lewis' name to him so he guessed she was over her infatuation with the man, but he didn't like being her second choice. Hell, he didn't even know if he was that high on her list since most of the other men simply ignored her. He couldn't understand their rudeness either, for she was a delightful creature with such pretty green eyes. With a sudden flash of insight, he realized he'd been an idiot to be so sensitive about being her second choice when she certainly had to know his first choice had been Gabrielle. He was mortified by that thought. It was obvious, yet it had escaped him during the many hours he'd agonized over the problem of taking a wife. As he helped to raise a tent, his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of how foolish he'd been, and he hoped by some miracle Erica might still be single by the time he returned home.
Jason remained seated for a while as he watched the others move about to make camp and gather wood for cooking fires. There was no reason for him to supervise this phase of the group's activities so he enjoyed the brief rest, feeling that he had earned it. He knew they'd get used to the pace he'd set in a day or two and the journey home would be a far easier one. His only worry was the possibility that the Cayuse would come looking for them as they made their way up the river. It was unlikely, but were he the Cayuse chief he'd be waiting for the white men who would be certain to come to avenge the Whitman massacre. He'd post sentries to watch the river so as not to be caught by surprise as those at the mission had been. A slow smile moved across Jason's lips as he realized the best plan would be to leave the river before they were sighted and to circle around the Indian's camp and attack it from the east. By