“Actually, I learned it from my father, who learned it from your American Indians. I would imagine that it was your father who taught it to your brothers.”
“He . . . ?” Cay couldn’t suppress her feeling of hurt that her father had taught such a useful movement to her brothers but not to her. What other things had he shown them but not her? “What else do you know how to do?” she asked Alex.
“Do you think I’m going to show you how to do tricks that would let you run away from me?”
“You said I wasn’t a prisoner and that I could leave at any time. Besides, now that my ribs are no longer tied down, I’m beginning to . . .”
“To what? Enjoy yourself?”
“No, of course not. But I—” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Do stop looking at me like I’m a great bother to you and show me something else. When I see Tally next time I want to be able to do something that will impress him grandly.”
“Ah, then if you want to impress him grandly, you might want to try this.” He knew he shouldn’t take the time to show her a horse trick, but he couldn’t bear for all the credit to be given elsewhere. He had her exchange horses with him, and told her to stand to the side of the road with his. He dropped the dirty handkerchief he’d offered her the first night, then walked her mare down the road. While Cay watched, he rode toward her at a blinding speed and when he came to the handkerchief, he bent down and picked it up. It was almost the same thing he’d done when she’d dropped the cloth days before, but this time he went lower, and Cay had no idea how he held himself in the saddle without falling off.
Halting, he turned and walked the horse back to her.
“I want to learn how to do that.”
He got down and handed her the reins to her mare. “I’ll teach you, but not now. We don’t have time.” When he saw her face, he leaned toward her. “And if you try that alone and break your neck, you’ll answer to me.”
“When will you teach me?”
“When—” He wanted to say that he’d show her as soon as they got to Florida, but he knew that he was to leave with the exploration team and she was to stay behind. It was possible that he’d never see her after the two more days it would take them to get to the rendezvous place. But he wasn’t going to tell her that. “When we have time,” was all he’d say.
For the rest of the day, Alex watched her practicing the first trick. He made her ride in front of him so he could see what she was doing wrong and correct her—and to save her if she was about to break any of her body parts. But having her in front of him turned out to be a mistake, as he watched her moving all over her horse in her too-tight breeches and her thin shirt.
By the time they reached the tavern, he was in a bad mood. It made sense that she wanted to test her disguise, but he couldn’t make himself admit that. Or maybe it was that he wanted to spend the night on the trail with her again. He’d grown to like being close to another human being. During his hideous weeks in prison, for all his grief, there were times when he’d longed to be near people. To talk to someone past the few minutes he was allowed with T.C. To listen to a person other than a lawyer!
“I can make people think I’m male,” Cay said when she was trying to persuade him to let her appear in public as a boy. He couldn’t bear to disappoint her.
“All right,” he’d at last agreed. “But you have to do exactly what I say.”
“I always do, don’t I?”
Alex groaned. “You’re as obedient as a chicken.”
“A what?” she said. “A chicken? Of all the animals you could have chosen, why did you have to compare me to a chicken?”
“Maybe it’s the hair. Red rooster. Red hen.” Once again, she had restored his good humor.
Now, he was in the tavern and waiting for her to appear. He’d ordered two dinners and two mugs of malt, then wondered if she’d ever drunk an alcoholic beverage. But he couldn’t keep the myth that she was male if he ordered her a pot of tea.
Again he glanced at the door. She’d gone to the privy, but that was half an hour ago, so where was she, and what was she doing? Had she been recognized already?
There were three men at the table next to him, and one of them said, “Come join us. You can’t be alone on such a fine night.”
“I’m waiting for my, uh, my brother.”
“Then both of you can join us,” the second man said.
“No, but thank you,” Alex answered, doing his best to remember his American English. He hadn’t used it since he’d met Cay. When the three men kept looking at him, he said, “My brother is shy. He doesn’t do well with strangers.”
“Is he a pretty boy?” asked the third man. “Thin as a reed?”
Alex tried not to gasp or let the man see how his words had startled him. Alex fully expected the next sentence to be that the man knew she was a girl. But Alex managed to nod.
“Then he’s not so shy,” the first man said, smiling. “I saw him with the barman’s daughter, and they were anything but shy with each other. They were laughing and talking.”
Alex could do nothing but look at the men in horror. What in the world had Cay done now? She was going to give them away! He was half out of his chair when the front door opened and in she came. She’d left her coat on her horse so her slight figure was well outlined by the big white shirt and the breeches that slid over her slim hips. What in the world had made him think that she could ever look like a male?
“Here he is now. So, boy, did you make any progress with the girl?”
Cay grinned and said, “Aye, I did. But I’ll not tell you old men about it, so you can stop hoping.”
Laughing hard, the three men went back to their mugs of ale.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Alex said, his teeth clenched, as soon as she took a seat next to him.
“I’ll tell you later,” she said under her breath as she raised her pewter mug to the men at the next table, who were still chuckling. She drank deeply of it.
“Put that down!”
“I’m thirsty.”
“All I need is for you to get drunk and start dancing about the place and show everyone what you really are.”
“So what if I did dance?” Cay asked. “No one would think I was a girl. It’s only you who sees me that way.” She reached for a pickled egg from the bowl in the center of the table and took a bite. “Do you want to hear what I was doing? This is good. Maybe I could get the recipe.”
“Males do not ask people for receipts.”
“I could say that my mother . . . No! That I want my fiancée to make them for me after we’re married.”
He took the uneaten half of the egg from her and ate it. “Say as little as possible to anyone and do not ask for any receipts. Understand me?”
“I understand that you’re fretting about things that don’t need to be worried about. Ah, here’s our food.”
“At least that’s one place where you’re as good as a man: your appetite.” Alex was so worried about what was going on that he hardly noticed the girl who delivered their two heaping plates full of food. There were thick slices of ham, green beans, buttered potatoes, cornbread, and apple butter. When Alex saw that Cay had been given almost twice as much on her plate as was on his, he looked up at the waitress in question.
She was a pretty girl, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and a bosom that took up all the space from her neck to her waist—and a good deal of her was exposed by her low-cut blouse. When he glanced at the men at the next table, they were staring at the girl with their mouths hanging open.
“Your bodice isn’t straight,” Cay said as she put both her hands on the girl’s prodigious bosom and proceeded to straighten the entire front of her blouse. If Alex had taken a bite, he would have choked. As it was, all he could do was stare in speechless shock.
“There now,” Cay said, “much better.”
“Thank you, sir,” the girl said as she dropped a curtsey to Cay, who turned her attention to the food.
&n
bsp; Every other eye in the tavern—all of them male—watched the girl leave the room to go back to the kitchen.
When she was gone, all the men started to laugh, and their good humor was directed toward Cay. Two of the men walked over and slapped her on the shoulder.
“Good for you, boy!”
“Well done!”
Cay’s head almost hit her plate after the second slap, but she stole a look at Alex, who was glaring at her in anger.
When the laughter and attention had finally calmed down, she said quietly, “See? They all think I’m a boy.”
“You drew attention to yourself,” Alex said under his breath, then smiled at a man who congratulated Cay as he walked by. “That was a truly disgusting display! And that the girl allowed you to do such a thing to her is beyond belief!”
“You’re sounding more prim than Adam,” Cay said, her mouth full. “Could you please pass me that mustard? They have Apple Brown Betty for dessert.”
“And what do you plan to do with her?”
After a moment’s look of confusion, Cay smiled. “Tickle her under her petticoats?”
Alex drew in his breath in shock.
“Would you please calm down?” Cay said as she smiled as another man hit her on the shoulder. “I knew what I was doing. I need to tell you what happened in the stables. I talked to—”
“Please tell me I didn’t hear you correctly. You did not say that you talked to someone, did you?”
“You’re not going to listen to me now, are you? I think I should just wait until we’re in bed together, then I’ll tell you.”
That statement was so outrageous that Alex couldn’t think of another word to say. He finished his dinner, and when a hush came over the tavern, he knew without looking up that the barman’s daughter was back. “Touch her and I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” she asked, glaring at him.
“I’ll make you spend the night outside and I won’t sleep anywhere near you.”
Cay started to protest, but the prospect of being alone at a campsite made her close her mouth. She murmured “thank you” to the waitress when she served their dessert, but Cay didn’t touch her. When the girl was gone, the men in the tavern let their disappointment be known, but the lack of further display made them quieten down.
“That’s better,” Alex said.
Cay moved her apple slices about in the earthenware bowl. “I was trying to help, but you won’t listen to what I have to say.”
Alex lowered his head so it was near hers. “I’m just worried that someone will recognize you.”
“I know, but I did some good. I got a letter to Nate.”
“You what?” Alex had to pause to nod at a man walking by. “You did what?”
“I got some people to deliver a letter to my brother. I asked Nate to go to Charleston and figure out what really happened.”
Since Alex had sent exactly the same request to the same person, he could make no reply.
Cay misunderstood his silence and started to defend herself. “If you’d just listen to me, I can explain everything.”
“All right,” Alex said. “What’s this about our room?”
“Eliza—that’s the waitress’s name—gave us one of the private rooms. You and I have to share a bed, but—”
“That’s not good.”
“All right, then, I’ll tell her that you’d rather we stayed in one of the big rooms with eight beds in it. If I don’t sleep with you, then it’ll have to be with another man. This place is too full for anyone to have a separate bed.”
Alex glared at her. “Are you finished with that?”
Cay shoved three huge bites of apples and syrup in her mouth and stood up. “I am now.” She had to wipe her lips with the back of her hand as the juices overflowed on to her chin.
“Upstairs,” he said. “Unless you want to fiddle with some more petticoats.”
“No, I’ll leave that to Josiah.”
“Don’t tell me he’s another one of your suitors.”
“Keep your voice down!” Cay hissed at him. “Josiah is the man Eliza loves and they’re eloping tomorrow, and they’re going to live on the farm my father owns, the one I told you about.”
Alex’s eyes widened. He almost asked if she meant his farm, the one that Nate had worked hard to save from being sold, the farm that Alex had been saving money to buy, where he planned to live with his wife and their children. Instead, he followed Cay up the stairs to the small room that had been prepared for them. He was glad to see that a long bolster pillow had been tossed onto the bed. It was used to separate strangers when they shared beds in the inns along the roads.
“All right,” he said, “I’m ready to listen.” He sat down on the only chair in the room and waited.
“I was on my way back from the privy when I heard some sounds, so I—”
“What kind of sounds?”
“Uh . . .” She hesitated. How could she say that she heard kissing sounds, the rustle of fabric, and heavy breathing without sounding like she was spying? Which, in a way, was what she’d been doing. But wouldn’t anyone be curious in such an instance?
“Out with it,” Alex said. “And don’t take the time to make up some story you think I’ll like. What did you hear and what did you do?”
“I heard some sounds in one of the stalls in the barn and since I was being very cautious, of course I wanted to investigate.” She glanced at him to see if he was buying that story, and she was glad he was looking at her in that patronizing, avuncular way that she was coming to know well. He looked much better now that his hair was trimmed and pulled back, but his face was still covered with whiskers. However, there seemed to be fewer lines at his eyes, and he looked younger than she’d first supposed. Maybe it was the dim light in the room.
As she sat down on the end of the bed, she asked herself why she was bothering to sugarcoat the truth. After all, this man wasn’t related to her, so why did she have to protect him from the realities of life? “I heard sounds of lovemaking.”
“Lovemaking?”
“Yes. Kissing, that sort of thing. I went toward it and I saw Eliza and Josiah in the stall and they were kissing and . . . and . . .” She waved her hand. He could fill in the rest for himself. “I started to tiptoe away, but then Eliza began to cry.”
“So you went back,” Alex said. “Don’t you realize that that’s just what a female would do? How can you keep your disguise if you always act like a girl?”
“Might I remind you that on that first night when I cried, you handed me a handkerchief? Does that make you a girl?”
Alex turned his head away to hide his smile, but she saw it.
“So what was Eliza’s problem?” Alex asked, and she could tell that the anger was gone. She knew that the cause of his bad temper was that he’d been worried about her.
“Her father wants her to marry a rich old man.”
“And I take it that she wants to marry a young and poor one.”
“Yes. She’s in love with Josiah, but he hasn’t a penny.” Cay was looking at Alex and thinking how familiar he’d become to her in the last few days. When she thought of being in Charleston with Hope and Uncle T.C., it seemed like a very long time ago.
“So what did you do? Give them a farm?” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. After all he and Nate had done, it now looked as though Cay was blithely going to give the farm to someone else. Never before had he resented her sense of entitlement, but he did now.
“I told them that if they’d take my letters to my family I’d see that my father gave them jobs. Josiah likes to grow things, and since my father has a farm that needs a manager, I suggested that place in my letter to my father. What is wrong with you? You’re acting like I did something I shouldn’t have. I thought you’d be pleased that I was able to get letters out, one to Nate telling him the truth, and one to my father telling him I’m having a great time in Charleston. They’ll be delivered in person.”
Alex was concerned that the Charleston paper would have included Cay’s name in their stories of the prison break and that by now her father and brothers were in town. But he wasn’t going to tell her that.
“Did the barmaid know you were female? Is that why she let you . . . ?” He made a gesture in front of his chest.
“No, she thinks I’m a boy who is making it possible for her to elope with the man she loves. As for the . . .” Cay made the same gesture he had. “Her shirt was out of place from the . . . you know, in the stables with Josiah, and I was fixing it for her. I’m afraid I forgot that I’m supposed to be a boy. For a minute. I only forgot for one minute, and I won’t forget again. Those men certainly made a fuss over that, didn’t they?”
“Yes, they did. Much too much of a fuss, and because of it, they’ll remember us well.” Alex got up, went to the narrow window, and looked out. He needed to get himself under control. She’d done a good job and he had no right to be angry at her. If T.C. had managed to keep her name out of the papers, and if for some reason Alex’s letter had never reached Nate, Cay had done a very good thing. And she wasn’t the one who’d stolen a dream from him. That had been done when Lilith had been . . . taken from the earth.
Cay knew nothing of Alex’s worries. She was thinking that it was odd being in the small room with him, as they’d mostly been out of doors together. But with walls that confined the space, it was much more intimate than being outside. Cay went to stand beside him. “Are you thinking about your wife?” she asked softly.
“Yes. I wanted to raise horses, and we were going to—” Breaking off, he turned to look at her. Her thick hair was loose from the tie at the back, and her long eyelashes looked up at him in innocence.
Cay could feel the awkwardness between them and she didn’t like it. She liked the easy camaraderie they’d developed and she wanted to keep it. “You sure do smell good,” she said.
Smiling, Alex turned away from the window, and the uncomfortable moment was gone. “I want this side of the bed, the one near the door.”
“So in case someone bursts in you can protect me?” She’d meant the words to be a jest, but the moment she said them, she wished she hadn’t. It sounded like she was referring to the night his wife died. “I didn’t mean—”
The Scent of Jasmine Page 11