by Amy Sandas
She flinched sharply at the sudden tingling rush his nearness triggered across her nerves.
“I offer warmth. Nothing more.”
“I’m fine,” Eve replied, but her voice was too tight, and the words barely made it past her chattering teeth.
He muttered something roughly beneath his breath that she didn’t understand as he stretched out on the ground behind her. Alarm lit across her nerves. Her body tensed for flight, but she had nowhere to go. She couldn’t get any closer to the fire without rolling right into it. If she tried to rise, he could easily grab her and pull her down.
“Sleep. I won’t harm you.” His words were low and gruff in the night.
Eve’s muscles began to ache, and her heart pounded with trepidation and the acute intense awareness of him. Solid. Male. Close, but not touching. He lay there, still and silent behind her while the warmth of his body started to reach out to her. He might not be touching her, but she felt him nonetheless.
Anticipation and anxiety rode high in her chest as the seconds turned into minutes. She had never lain in such intimate proximity with someone. Her brief experiences in the marriage bed were not even remotely comparable to what she felt lying between the low-flickering fire and Gabriel’s large body.
Eventually, the initial shock wore off and she found herself relaxing, as though her body accepted the lack of risk and danger well before her mind came to the same conclusion. He’d said he wouldn’t hurt her. And it seemed she believed him.
From that first time he offered her water and in each instance afterward, unless he had a reason to be near her, he deliberately kept himself at a certain distance. Even when they’d shared his horse, he’d allowed a space between them. Aside from when she’d nearly fallen to the ground after riding all day, he’d never put his hands on her without expressly obtaining her permission or giving her an opportunity to refuse.
In truth, he had shown her as much courtesy as the gentlemen she’d known back home. Perhaps even more.
And as warmth slowly spread through her body, she could not resist the softening of her tense muscles. Her eyes drifted closed, and she snuggled a bit deeper beneath her blanket.
For a while, she listened to the sound of the crackling fire and the deep, steady breaths rising and falling behind her. But eventually, against her better judgment, she was lulled to sleep.
* * *
She didn’t trust him.
She feared him.
But now he understood why. Her fear was her protection.
From the moment she’d awakened after being dragged from the train, surrounded by strangers and outlaws, she had shown a resilience and courage to be admired. She never once panicked or screamed, despite the terror in her gaze. She’d listened and observed.
While the men had discussed what to do with her once they’d realized Ramsey’s mistake, Gabriel had watched her. Her eyes had been closed. The others likely thought her asleep. Gabriel had known better.
She had been gaining information.
Before she’d fallen asleep just a moment ago, instead of jumping to her feet when he settled beside her, as he knew she likely wished to, she had remained still and thoughtful.
He wished he knew what had traveled through her mind until she’d relaxed. But at least she’d let herself fall asleep.
Gabriel remained stretched out on his back. With his eyes closed, he was acutely aware of the cold earth beneath him and the chilling brush of the night air. Night birds called in the trees above; the whispered dance and crackle of low-burning flames and the soft, occasional movements of the horses filtered through the dark. And he felt the silent tension of the woman beside him. Though she’d slipped into sleep, her body still possessed a shell of steady resistance, like a quiet, constant barrier.
He’d known she wouldn’t like him lying next to her, but he couldn’t let her freeze all night when he could prevent it. It wouldn’t do her any favors tomorrow if she was dead tired on her horse, her body too stiff to move. Today was a tough ride, but tomorrow would be worse. He’d have to take things slower, stop more often. She’d be sore, and he now knew she wouldn’t say anything about her discomfort.
There was also the matter of her injuries.
His stomach turned at the thought of the marks that scored her slim back. Significant force had been used to cut so deeply into her skin. Her ability to conceal what must have been very painful for the first couple days in his company had him wondering just how long she had been practicing such concealment.
The anger he felt on her behalf surprised him.
From the day he’d been taken from his family as a boy, he had deliberately cultivated an attitude of detachment from the people around him. It was easy to do. Those years with the Sloans, the missionary couple who had taken him in as part of their good work, had only reinforced his desperate desire to keep himself protected from the harm people could inflict with their good intentions.
And when he’d finally started to make his way in the world alone, it had been second nature to keep others at a distance. He trusted Luke and most of the others with his life, and he was loyal to them, but he could not call them friends. That required something he was no longer capable of.
Yet his reaction to seeing what the woman who called herself Eve had endured was not one of detachment. He hadn’t felt such intense fury over someone else’s pain since he’d been a boy. And he had seen plenty of suffering in the years since.
But it wasn’t just her pain he felt like a lightning bolt to his chest. It was her spirit. Her fear, her strength, and her silent resistance. He’d never seen anyone who held so much inside. It required a supreme amount of discipline to maintain such control.
He knew that well enough.
Realizing dawn would be coming soon, he willed himself to sleep.
It seemed like only moments later that he had awoke with a rush of alarm sliding through him. He immediately knew the cause as the woman beside him moaned softly in her sleep. Though he was not touching her, he could feel the tension in her body.
He turned toward her and lifted himself to his elbow. She was curled tightly into a ball, burying her face in her raised arms.
His instinct was to wake her from the nightmare she seemed to be trapped in. But his touch would likely cause terror rather than comfort.
Instead, he spoke in a gentle tone so as not to startle her. “Wake up.”
She moaned again, then gasped, arching her back sharply.
“Wake up, Eve,” he said, more firmly this time.
His voice must have reached her, or perhaps the dream had reached its end, because she drew a swift breath and came to sudden awareness. Her gaze flew around her as she desperately tried to place herself in the correct time and place. When she finally turned her head enough to see Gabriel leaning over her, she froze.
Her breath stopped passing through her parted lips. Her eyes widened, and her pupils dilated until the blue around them was no more than a thin ring. Her pulse thrummed swiftly at the base of her throat.
Gabriel didn’t move, and he didn’t speak.
He could have risen to his feet and given her some distance, likely frightening her further until she realized he was walking away. But some silent instinct told him to remain where he was, urged him to prove he was no threat by showing her she was safe in his proximity.
As they lay there locked in the moment, their gazes unwavering, he noted the slow rise of her chest as she drew a breath. Then a shift in her eyes as the terror slid back into the shadows she so carefully protected.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Her lashes fluttered over her gaze, but she did not look away. “It’s morning.”
Gabriel was not expecting that response, and he lifted a brow as he replied, “It is.”
“Did you sleep?” she asked.
“Enough.
”
She said nothing more as she continued to stare into his eyes. He saw the uncertainty swirling behind the blue, but he saw something else as well. Curiosity, resistance, heat.
Bare inches separated them, yet it felt like miles. Inside himself, Gabriel could feel the call of her soul to his. He could see by the pulse in her throat that their hearts were beating in unison. Any other woman, any other time, he might have lifted his hand to touch her. He might have rested his hand on her hip or brushed his thumb over the curve of her cheek.
But not this woman.
After what seemed like a second stretched to an age, her eyes swept to the side as she pushed to a seated position. Her expression tightened with the movement; a subtle reaction, quickly controlled and concealed. But Gabriel had seen it.
Self-directed anger coursed through him. He should have insisted on treating the wounds the night before. But he had been reluctant to challenge her barriers.
“You need salve,” he said as he rose to his knees and reached for the saddlebags.
“No,” she argued, the word tight and short. “I’m fine.”
Gabriel paused, holding the small jar Maddy had packed. He said nothing, just looked at the tense line of her back, which appeared far too slim and gentle to be carrying such a painful burden.
“You would rather go through the day with your skin feeling like it’s being stretched over hot coals?”
His challenging words forced her chin up a notch, but she did not refute him.
“The damaged skin will continue to tighten as it heals. It’ll burn and sting. You know it’s true,” he added roughly, noting the way her jaw tensed in acknowledgment of his words. He couldn’t see her face as he kneeled behind her, but he knew her expression would give away very little of what she was feeling or thinking. “The salve will help.”
Gabriel waited.
As the horses began to stir with soft huffs of breath and a gentle shifting of weight. As birds sang from the trees that surrounded the small clearing, and the water flowed joyfully nearby. As the small, pale-haired woman sat silently in front of him.
If she refused again, he would let it be.
He watched and waited. Another minute passed, and he saw her chin lower by the smallest degree. Then her hands came up, and she started to unfasten the heavy coat Jane had lent her.
Gabriel remained unmoving, but something inside him gave a hard, swift twist. And that twist opened something else, releasing a wave of warmth through his muscles and over his nerves.
In this one small thing, at least, she had decided to offer him her trust.
She lifted the coat off her shoulders and let it fall down her arms to settle on the ground around her hips. Then she did the same with her shirt, releasing the buttons, then lifting and sliding it down her bare arms. The tails remained tucked into her skirt, but her back was bare now except for the soft flannel undergarment.
Swollen lines in shades of red, purple, and green disappeared in an angry pattern beneath the edge of the soft flannel. Her shoulders were curved forward protectively.
Gabriel’s stomach tightened, and his jaw ached from clenching his teeth against the snarl that rose inside him. If he did not regain his self-control before he touched her, she would feel the fury inside him. She might misunderstand his anger, and he would lose the sliver of trust he’d gained.
He watched as she brought her chin back up and straightened her spine, just before she slipped the straps off her shoulders and lowered the undergarment to her waist.
Fifteen
He hesitated.
She wished he wouldn’t. Now that she accepted his assistance, she needed it done and over with—before she lost what scraps of courage she’d managed to gather around herself.
The last few days had been intensely uncomfortable. But Maddy’s salve had helped. Beyond her expectation. And in the hurry to leave the house yesterday morning, there hadn’t been time to apply more.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t possibly spread the salve herself.
Her decision to accept his offer had been an act of pure self-preservation.
It was also a risky test of sorts.
At some point the night before, she had decided to believe his declaration that he wouldn’t hurt her. This was his chance to prove it.
Keeping her arms crossed over her naked chest, she closed her eyes, refusing to acknowledge the tear that slipped free as she did so. Her stomach turned with dread and fear and a glimmer of quiet hope as she waited for his touch.
The salve had been cooled through the night, and at the first sweep across her skin, a chill swept down her spine, causing gooseflesh to rise. Eve kept her teeth tightly clenched against the urge to gasp. Almost immediately, the medicinal elements of the mixture started to take effect, causing a slight tingling where it was applied. The smell of the ointment drifted around her, making her nostrils flare.
He applied the salve swiftly and with long strokes. Though his touch was nearly as gentle as Maddy’s had been, her tender flesh felt every pass acutely. She tried to imagine what he was seeing and wondered what he was thinking. Did he see her as weak and foolish? Did he guess at the shame each stroke of the lash had embedded in her skin?
When he reached the worst of her wounds, Eve held her breath and forced herself to remain still and unflinching.
In her mind’s eye, she saw his large, capable hands carefully spreading the salve in slow, deliberate strokes. She saw his effort at keeping his touch as light as possible to avoid hurting her further. It was odd to be so vulnerable as she sat still and half-naked beneath his touch. Was she only imagining that she could sense his consideration, his focused care?
Matthew would have exploited the moment in every way possible. He’d have expressed his disappointment in her inability to be stronger and less needy. He’d have subtly and expertly reminded her that her place was to serve him, not the other way around.
Yet Gabriel said nothing. His presence was calm and quietly assuring as he continued to apply the soothing salve. He was thorough, quick, and gentle. The strikes of Matthew’s whip had reached as low as the flare of her hips, and she sat up straighter as Gabriel’s fingers feathered across the small of her back and lower.
And then he was finished.
She heard the lid of the jar being replaced and the soft sounds as he returned the salve to her bags.
“I’m sorry.” The two words were uttered in a low, rough tone that seemed to rasp over her taut nerves.
Before she could determine what he was apologizing for, let alone figure out a proper response, he had risen to his feet and walked away.
Eve tensed with a flicker of irrational panic.
Then she heard the low tones of his voice as he spoke to the horses where they had been secured beyond a collection of bushes. The salve required some time to soak in before she could replace her clothing. He likely knew that and had left to afford what little privacy was possible.
Opening her eyes, she glanced around.
The camp was lit by random patterns from the morning sun as it filtered through the trees. The campfire had been reduced to black ash releasing lazy tendrils of smoke that lifted lightly in the breeze. Looking behind her, she saw the horse blanket he had lain on through the night, and a shiver danced down her spine—a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold air of morning.
Not only had she managed to fall asleep beside him, but she had slept quite deeply in the proximity of his added warmth. Heat infused her cheeks. It was unfathomable.
He did not return until nearly thirty minutes later. She had already redressed and was waiting quietly for him. The moment he came back into camp, his eyes sought hers, a question in their depths. Without conscious consideration, she understood what he was asking. Warmth rolled through her. She calmly returned his watchful stare to assure him she was well.
&n
bsp; After the moment of silent communication, he went about starting the coffee and digging out something to eat before they started on their way.
That day progressed much as the one before except for the fact that they continued at a near-steady incline as they made their way back and forth up mountainsides or through deep, cavernous ravines. The air grew colder and thinner as they ascended farther into the mountains, yet their horses barely seemed affected by the more challenging conditions. Another difference was that Gabriel orchestrated brief yet frequent stops throughout the day, instructing Eve to dismount and walk around to keep her legs and back from getting stiff.
Despite the occasional rests, it was still a physically trying day. By the time they stopped for camp that night, the sun descended beyond the mountain peaks, painting the sky in lovely shades of pink and purple, and the night air was quickly growing colder.
After their meal of roasted grouse was finished, Gabriel met her gaze across the fire.
“Shall I apply more salve?” he asked.
The words were warm with consideration. That he asked rather than insisted was not lost on Eve. The choice to refuse him was present in the air. But she didn’t want to refuse. The salve would make her more comfortable through the night and already seemed to be accelerating the healing process. Refusing served little benefit.
But accepting meant she would have to bare herself again to this man’s touch.
Not completely unexpectedly, the thought did not give rise to fear or trepidation.
He had gained her trust in this at least. He would not harm her. She believed that.
Meeting his patient gaze, she gave a small nod.
As he rose to his feet to fetch the salve from her saddlebags, she removed her coat and slipped her shirt and undergarment from her shoulders. Sitting straight with her legs drawn against her chest in an effort to preserve some modesty, she wrapped her arms around her knees and waited.
She felt more than heard him as he settled behind her.