by Pat Tracy
“You do not accept my counsel?”
“Let’s just say that, when you have a wife of your own, I’ll be more inclined to listen to your advice.”
A faraway look filled the Indian’s gaze. “I seek no such woman. For now, it is my people who claim my heart.”
Logan had learned some things about the Indian way of life when he lived among them while recuperating from his wound, but there were elements of it that were still shrouded in mystery. He wondered, for example, whether there was a way in the Shoshone culture for Night Wolf to satisfy his physical urges without the sanction of marriage. He had no intention of asking. Unlike some people, he respected a man’s privacy.
“There’s a chance I might need to borrow one of your horses,” Logan said, turning to a new subject.
“Just one?”
Logan nodded. He’d put together the beginnings of a plan whereby he and Victoria could be alone when she finally discovered who he was. Or, more importantly, who he wasn’t. He didn’t want to cause her public embarrassment. Besides, if they were alone, he would be able to accept her apology in a setting conducive to a passionate demonstration of her heartfelt repentance for thinking the worst of him.
It would be better for her reputation if she drove the wagon into town by herself. People would be impressed by her fortitude, and there would be no taint of scandal from their being together for almost two weeks.
“You have the look of a man with a plot, Logan Youngblood.”
“You’re right about that.” Logan was confident that his hastily contrived scheme would benefit both him and Victoria.
All he had to do was avoid the cavalry and speak with Martin Pritchert before Victoria arrived in town.
“And it is a plan that will protect your pride?”
Logan smiled. “Of course.”
“I fear you are headed for trouble, my friend.”
Chapter Fourteen
From her position on the densely treed rise overlooking the riverbank below, Victoria stared in dismay at the dozen or so soldiers who had halted their mounts beside the strip of water.
It had been the muted sounds of their passage that drew her from the campsite. The sight of the uniformed men who stood clustered in small groups, conversing with one another while their horses drank from the stream, sent a bolt of dread through her. Victoria didn’t delude herself as to why the sight of the soldiers panicked her instead of comforted her.
These men were part of the same army responsible for beating Logan and leaving him in that squalid stockade to die. A burning sense of outrage swelled within her. She wanted to charge down the riverbank and berate them for their savagery. Only the knowledge that she would place Logan in jeopardy stopped her.
She left the hilltop and retraced her steps to the clearing, realizing that, by not making herself and Logan’s presence known to the soldiers, she had become his accomplice. Surely duty demanded she turn Logan over to the army. She swallowed the sharp-edged lump in her throat. She, who had been raised on duty, had just violated every precept she’d ever been taught.
Her father was a federal judge. He dispensed cold justice to men who broke the law. If he were in her place, he wouldn’t suffer any qualms about turning Logan over to those soldiers.
She remembered the horrible beating Logan had suffered. Not even the rigid code of conduct upon which she’d been reared would make her return him to that vile authority.
“There you are,” Logan said. “I wondered where you were.”
Victoria came to a halt. So hurried had her pace been that she reached their camp without realizing it.
“Hush! Keep your voice down!”
His expression stilled. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Everything! Not far away are soldiers I should turn you over to, but I can’t because I’m afraid I’ve gone and done something so stupid as to fall in love with you.
She drew a calming breath. “I see you caught more fish.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“I have a headache. It soothes the pain if I lower my voice.” Good grief, she was becoming a consummate liar.
He looked as if he didn’t believe her brilliant fib. She supposed it was to be expected that a man who lived his life by deception recognized dissembling when he heard it.
“Then I’ll keep my voice down. Maybe eating will make your headache go away.”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“How far do smells travel?”
“What?”
“Well, we’re supposed to be avoiding any unwelcome company, you know—like bears and Indians,” she improvised. “I was just wondering if the smell of cooking food traveled far.”
“We’ve been on the trail for almost two weeks. Why are you concerned about this now?”
“What about our run-in with that cougar?”
“We weren’t cooking anything when that happened.”
“I know.” If she told him about the soldiers, she would have to explain why she hadn’t delivered him into their hands. She refused to confess her feelings toward Logan when she couldn’t admit them to herself.
As soon as they reached Trinity Falls, he would no longer be a part of her life. That would be soon enough to deal with her confusing emotions. It would be safer to come to terms with her attachment when he wasn’t standing in front of her.
“I suppose I’m thinking we’ve been lucky avoiding any unwelcome company, except for the mountain lion and the bee.”
He shook his head. “You’re lumping a mountain lion and a bee together?”
She bristled at his mocking tone. “I’m concerned about our welfare. Now that we’ve almost made it to safety, it would be foolish to draw any unwelcome attention.” She glanced around meaningfully at the lodgepole pines that marched up to their tiny camp. “I’ll bet this forest is brimming with Indians looking for an opportunity to collect a few new scalps.”
“We’re in friendly territory now, Victoria.”
“Well, there might be soldiers—” She broke off in disgust at where her words had taken her. The last thing she’d wanted to bring up was the presence of the United States Army.
“Night Wolf said there was a troop nearby.”
His announcement stunned her. “You spoke to Night Wolf?”
He nodded. “A few minutes ago.”
She looked past him in consternation. “But I wanted to meet your Indian friend. Why didn’t you bring him to camp?”
Logan shrugged. “I didn’t see the point.”
“Didn’t see the point?” Victoria demanded, incensed. She still remembered to keep her voice lowered. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting an American primitive. Night Wolf would have been perfect.”
“Why is that?”
“Because he isn’t hostile.” Really, Logan could be quite dense at times. “I wanted to meet a real Indian chief. You can’t deny you called him a brave and noble warrior.”
“I’m not sure I used those exact words. Besides, I was trying to save you from being disappointed.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your expectations of Night Wolf are too high. The truth is, he’s.”
“What?”
“Old. Really old. He’s lost all his teeth and most of his hair.”
“I didn’t realize Indians went bald,” she mused, not caring that the Shoshone warrior was past his prime.
“Well, they do. And one more thing about Night Wolf—he really stinks. You never want to stand downwind of him. Nor do you want to eat with him. It’s disgusting how he gums his food.”
“Thank you for the warning, but it appears I shall never meet him.”
“I’ll introduce you to another Indian someday.”
There would never be a “someday,” Victoria thought, blinking away the sudden moisture that filmed her eyes. She busied herself with putting the skillet on the low-burning
fire.
Logan watched Victoria cook the fi
sh he’d caught. He wasn’t surprised she was disappointed about missing Night Wolf. She’d obviously built up the Shoshone chief to be a great warrior.
Logan scowled. Since he, too, admired the Indian, Logan didn’t dispute her estimation. What he did take issue with was her gazing at the man with admiration shining in the verdant depths of her green eyes. Since he, himself, had never sparked that reaction from her, he’d be damned if he watched her shower someone else with the gift of her feminine adoration.
That was something he wanted only for himself, just as he wanted her soft female heat for himself alone. But the only way he could receive those treasures would be to tell her who he was. And have her believe him. Of course, after they reached Trinity Falls, the matter would be moot. It would be proved irrefutably that he wasn’t running from the law but was instead a respected citizen.
Victoria slid the fish onto a flower-patterned plate. “Lunch is ready.”
She hadn’t turned him over to the soldiers…
Logan had stood behind her on the bank as she looked down upon the troop of uniformed men. He’d held his breath, waiting to see what she would do. He really wasn’t in that much danger, though, because Windham wasn’t with the party. It was unlikely a warrant had been issued for Logan’s arrest. He doubted the colonel wanted many people knowing how he’d left Logan to die at the fort for a matter so personal as the officer’s offended honor over a supposedly adulterous wife. No, that was something a man liked to keep to himself.
As he helped himself to a couple of the fried trout, Logan studied Victoria. She had settled herself on a blanket and was listlessly using her fork to poke a piece of fish. Most people who spent any time on the trail would gobble down any morsel of food set before them. Not Victoria. She was one of the fussiest eaters he’d ever met. Her finicky attitude was probably a result of her refined upbringing, he decided. Just like her cultured way of speaking and her obsession with books.
She looked up. “Why are you staring at me?”
Why didn’t you turn me over to the soldiers, Victoria? Have you begun to trust me, after all?
“I’m waiting for you to stop chasing that fish around your plate and eat.”
She jabbed a chunk of the flaky trout, plopped it between her teeth and held his stare while chewing with dainty Vigor.
There was no reason for him to find her rebellious gesture at all sensual. Yet he did. But then, he found most of the things she did disturbing to his senses. Like the way she walked—briskly, as if in a hurry, yet with an unmistakable sway to her hips. Or the way she blinked when she was caught off guard and tried to get her bearings. Or the way she tilted her head when she was amused by something. Even the way she breathed caused his pulse to beat in double time.
For a moment, he teased himself with the brief glimpses he’d caught of her body after the rainstorm, as she changed into dry clothing. He hardened at the memory and cursed himself for being stupid enough to invite the image into his mind in broad daylight with Victoria sitting less than five feet from him. He would have liked nothing better than to lower her onto that blanket and—
”Logan, you’re being awfully quiet.”
“I thought that was what you wanted.” Somehow he got the words past his dry throat, just as he got the fish down that same tight passage. For all of Victoria’s surprisingly good cooking, he might as well have been eating dirt. He tasted nothing.
She cocked her head, as if listening for something. A delicate furrow lined her smooth brow. “I think, as long as we talk quietly, there’s no harm in engaging in a simple conversation.”
Logan translated that to mean that she thought the soldiers had left and it was safe to resume normal activity.
He took a swallow of water from the dainty china cup Victoria handed him at each meal. “Was there anything in particular you wanted to discuss?”
“You mentioned earlier that you wanted to show me something.”
A surge of anticipation shot through him. “As soon as we’re done eating, we’re going to take a short hike. There’s a couple of things close by that you might find interesting.”
“Such as?”
“I thought you might like to see the waterfalls.”
Barely contained excitement shimmered in her upturned gaze. “Oh, Logan, I would love to see them.”
Excitement shimmered in Logan, also. He tamped it down as best he could. “There are some hot pools nearby, too.”
“Hot pools?”
He nodded, trying to keep his expression neutral. “They’re deep, and just the right temperature for a bath. I thought you might enjoy one.” He cleared his throat. “It would give you a chance to clean up before your arrival in town tonight.”
A look of caution crept into Victoria’s formally beaming countenance. “And where will you be while I’m taking my bath?”
He really shouldn’t be insulted at her misgivings about his intentions, Logan reflected. After all, he’d almost ravished her twice. Because of her innocence, she didn’t realize he’d made love to her a hundred times. In his mind.
“I’ll be in my own hot pool, washing off several pounds of Idaho trail dust.”
She raised a winged, auburn eyebrow. “How close will your pool be to mine?”
Damned if she wasn’t catching on to how his mind worked.
“Pretty close.”
She nibbled her lower lip. He could almost see her mind working as she weighed the pros and cons of accepting his invitation to use the warm springs.
“A hot bath sounds splendid,” she observed thoughtfully. Her expression lightened. “And it’s not as if I can’t trust you to. respect my privacy. After all, we’ve been together for almost two weeks now, and except for…uh…our rather bumpy beginning, you’ve been a perfect gentleman.” She beamed at him. “Let’s take advantage of the pools. It would be wonderful to arrive in town refreshed.”
Logan got to his feet. “I’ll put out the fire.”
She uncurled from the blanket and smiled. “Let me get a few things. I want to savor this experience.”
So do I….
If his goal hadn’t been strictly honorable, Logan might have felt guilty over Victoria’s misplaced confidence, but his only aim today was to forge a bond of intimacy that she’d never experienced with another man. Her virginity would be safe.
His specific goal was to break down her inhibitions with him. Only him. He wanted her to understand that the fierce desire riding him also rode her, that they could make a fire hot enough to melt any walls or obstacles that might arise between them. He wanted to awaken her to the passion locked inside her. After experiencing that passionate awakening, she wouldn’t be able to walk away from him, as Robeena had done. He’d learned his lesson from the past. He needed to possess Victoria so completely that there would be no room in her mind, her heart or her body for another man.
As he made that decision, Logan knew he would find no release with Victoria until he made her his wife. For, if he yielded to his own hungers, he would take something he sensed she was incapable of surrendering without a wedding ceremony. He wanted her love, her warmth and her laughter—not guilt, not remorse, not shame.
Soon they would leave these hills, taking a trail that angled downward to the main road leading to town. Tomorrow everything would change between them. She would discover he was her employer. While under the watchful eyes of the good people of Trinity Falls, they would have to display a strictly professional manner toward each other. It was essential that they set a good example for Madison. The girl was extremely impressionable, and in dire need of refinement if she was to successfully escape her rough upbringing and find a place in polite society, a place that would provide her with a husband and family someday.
“I’m ready.”
Victoria’s voice broke through Logan’s thoughts. She had gathered a couple of towels, a change of clothes and a bar of pink soap, which rested atop the small stack of items.
“Good.” He moved to the edge
of the clearing. “We don’t have far to go. It won’t be much of a hike.”
He glanced over his shoulder to make sure she followed. The path was steep, so he reached out and relieved her of the bundle.
“Thank you.”
Her voice was breathless, and her eyes were alive with anticipation. Logan smothered a groan. “Just stay close.”
“Don’t worry,” came her cheerful assurance. “I wouldn’t want to miss this.”
Despite the current of sizzling heat that snaked through Logan’s groin, he managed to set a brisk pace through the trees. There were some pleasures a man hated to delay.
Once they arrived in town, he had every intention of courting Victoria properly. It had come to that, he admitted. Since he had no intention of sharing her with another man and had every intention of sampling each delectable inch of her sweetly curved body, he was going to have to make the supreme sacrifice and surrender his bachelorhood.
There would be rewards other than those of the marital bed, he knew. There would be the satisfaction of waking up each morning with her in his arms, of watching her incredible eyes light with excitement over some incomprehensible bit of drama from her books and hearing her voice, with its distinctive Boston accent, daintily assault his composure.
He could make her love him. He was convinced of that. Hell, it would be easy, once she knew he wasn’t Logan the larcenous marauder of the West. Of course, there was bound to be a rough patch when she realized he’d withheld his true identity from her. But he was convinced he could sweet-talk her out of that little snit.
Everything considered, he was sure that, once they reached civilization, she would bend to his superior will. He would bring her flowers. Women liked that. He would get Martin to write her a poem or two, which Logan would then recite to her. He’d escort her to the hotel dining room for a dozen dinners and woo her with Pierre’s outstanding French cuisine. Hell, with her finicky appetite, that act alone would earn her undying love.
He’d buy her jewelry, too. Robeena had always responded well to the diamond-studded trinkets he lavished upon her.
The thought struck him that it might be worthwhile to borrow Nate Bushletter’s guitar and serenade Victoria under her window. Nate had done that with the young widow Harding, and the woman had been so overcome she climbed down her own trellis and, wearing nothing more than a cotton nightie, threw herself into Nate’s arms. Reverend Donally had pronounced their vows the next morning.