Authors: Sylvia McDaniel
He moved her arms up around his neck and pulled her body tight against his. A cool breeze alerted her, he’d undone the ties to her wrapper and slipped his hands inside to her thin cotton gown.
A searing kiss that tasted of whiskey left her knees weak. A swirling curl of desire began in the pit of her stomach. Then the overpowering stench of liquor rocked her senses back to reality.
She brought both hands up between them and pushed with all her strength, sending him flying into the dirt, where he landed with a plop on his backside.
He glared up at her in stunned surprise. “Why in the hell did you do that, woman?”
“You’re stinking drunk!”
“Damn it, I had to do something to get my mind off you. Otherwise, I was going to crawl over that damn board and take you like a real husband would,” he said with a low moan and laid his head back on the soft earth.
His admission stunned her. Part of her secretly wanted him to crawl over that board and take her. She wanted to completely experience the feelings Wade aroused in her, but left unfulfilled. Then her sensible voice whispered that she’d regret her actions later. The liquor was talking, not Wade.
“There’s no excuse for becoming drunk, Mr. Ketchum.”
He grabbed her wrapper and tugged just hard enough to pull her down. She landed with a thud on top of him. Through the thin cotton the hard muscles of his chest pressed against her breasts. With stunning clarity, she felt every muscle, including the one between his legs, which was hard.
His lips touched hers and an instant sizzle burned from her mind all thought of anything other than Wade. His arms molded her tightly against him as desire slammed through Rachel, igniting every nerve ending.
“Mrs. Ketchum, it’s obvious you know nothing about men. I suggest you get your pretty little bustle back inside that wagon and keep it there. Or else you’re not going to be a virgin when you reach Oregon.”
Shame and embarrassment replaced the desire that had filled her. Without thinking she broke free and slapped him as hard as she could. She gasped, shocked at this act. Quickly, she jumped up and fled into the wagon.
Chapter Nine
“W
hat in the hell?” Wade sat straight up, ice water cascading from his face. The predawn light shimmered around Rachel as she stood before him, her face set in angry lines, an empty bucket in her hand.
“Get up from there, Mr. Ketchum!” Rachel commanded. “I’ll not have you embarrassing me or the children by having the whole train awakening to find you sprawled on the ground, snoring drunkenly.”
Wade shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs from his muddled brain. When he moved, his head pounded like a steam locomotive.
The last he remembered of the night before he was dancing with Rachel, her sweet fragrance, gentle curves and pleasant smile driving him crazy with desire.
With startling clarity, he remembered consuming enough whiskey to dull the fire in his loins and any intelligent thought in his head.
“Get up, Wade,” she demanded, her face tight with barely restrained control.
Wade eased himself up from the ground, his head throbbing from the movement. His stomach reeled from the whiskey. He looked at Rachel and knew he was in hot water with the righteous Miss Cooke.
“Couldn’t you have awakened me with a gentle kiss sweet Rachel?” he asked, goading her anger even further.
Her face turned scarlet, and he watched as she clenched her fists. “Get yourself cleaned up and take care of the animals.”
He looked down at his dripping clothes. “I think you’ve already bathed me for the day.”
“I had to do something to get the stench of whiskey off you,” Rachel spat out before she stalked off and proceeded to stir up their small fire.
“Just what exactly did I do to put such a bee in your bonnet this early in the morning?” he asked.
His words seemed to light a fire beneath her as she approached him, her chest heaving. “Oh! You don’t remember, do you? What part shall I tell you first? That you accused me of still loving Ethan? Or that you slipped behind a wagon and drank to excess. Or how you came back drunk and singing tawdry saloon songs at the top of your lungs? Shall I continue?”
“Please continue, it sounds like I had a fine time.”
“You also said I didn’t know anything about men. Then you kissed me until…” She drew in a sharp breath. “Well, you kissed me.”
“My behavior sounds absolutely deplorable, Mrs. Ketchum,” he said in tight-lipped mirth. “But I have kissed you before, and if I get the chance, I will do so again.”
“I don’t know why you persist.” Rachel said perplexed. “We both know eventually we’ll go our separate ways.”
Wade closed the distance between them. “That’s true. But you can’t deny there is something between us.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rachel murmured.
“You’re naïve, Rachel, but you’re not stupid. Even you have to recognize that we’re drawn to one another,” he said as he brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face.
“Leave it be, Wade. You drink, you cuss, you’re not a Godly man. I hired you to take us to Oregon, not become my husband in the flesh,” she whispered.
“Maybe it’s time someone showed you what being with a man is all about,” he said as he moved swiftly to take her in his arms.
She took a step back away from him. “See that’s just the kind of response I should expect from a man like you.”
“Rachel you can expect that kind of response from any man when there’s a beautiful woman like yourself tempting him.”
“Not the men in my Papa’s church,” Rachel argued.
Wade resisted the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she listened. “Are you certain about that? My daddy’s business was full of good men who attended church on Sunday morning after being in his saloon Saturday night.”
Rachel gasped. “I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t give a fig if you do. But they were the same men I saw in church the next morning.”
“You were in church?” she asked incredulously.
“I know you may find it hard to believe, but there was a time in my life when I attended.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t you ask?”
“I don’t know,” she replied meekly. “I just assumed…”
“You assumed I’ve never been to church. You’re as big a hypocrite as the rest of ’em,” he said, annoyed at her response.
Rachel became indignant. “I am not.”
She turned away, disillusionment on her face. Her voice became low, almost sorrowful. “I don’t like lying to everyone I meet. I don’t like pretending to be something I’m not. But I had no choice! I’m lying because I have to.”
Wade felt bad for calling her a hypocrite, but damn, the woman was trying his patience. And it infuriated him that she always assumed the worst about him.
“When my mother was alive we attended church every Sunday, though we were shunned by the parishioners because of my father’s saloon. I’ve had a lot of experience with hypocrites.”
Rachel turned around to face him, the shock apparent on her face, and in her hazel eyes. “I thought…”
Wade took two steps toward her. He was inches from her. His hands were clinched, his breathing ragged, his head vibrating at the sudden memories. The memories of a small boy shunned by the other kids every Sunday because his father owned a saloon.
“You thought I was a lying, womanizing, card-playing drunk. You assumed the worst about me. And just maybe your assumptions are correct, because I can’t say I want to be the bloodless imitation of a man you think you want. Someone like Ethan.”
Rachel whirled around and almost ran inside the wagon.
* * *
That night after the children had been put to bed, Rachel went to Ethan and Mary’s camp, hoping Mary would talk her out of this slump. Wade had disappeared after their confrontation in the morning and had yet to return. Rachel had spent the evening wondering how she could go on pretending with Wade, yet fearful he would never return.
Strolling into the Beauchamps’ camp, she realized Mary was nowhere in sight. Ethan sat by the fire, relaxing.
Rachel said, “good evening. Where’s Mary?”
“She went down to visit Emily for a spell,” Ethan replied. “You look tired tonight. Are you feeling all right?”
Rachel wanted to open up her heart, but part of her resisted. “I’m fine. It’s just that sometimes I miss Papa more than I let on.”
“He’s not been gone that long, Rachel. Grief takes a while to get over.”
“I know. It’s just that I miss going to him whenever there was a problem with one of the children. At night we used to sit around the fire and talk about them.”
Rachel pulled her shawl tighter around her trembling shoulders. The night air was crisp, the stars were bright.
Ethan glanced up at the stars. “It’s too pretty a night for us to be sitting around having a spell of the doldrums. Why don’t we go for a walk?”
“Mary wouldn’t mind?”
“Mary knows you’re an old friend. But how about Wade?”
A tiny laugh escaped her lips. “He doesn’t care.”
Rachel twisted the edge of her shawl in her tightly closed fist. She swallowed, holding back the flood of tears that threatened to spill.
Ethan placed her arm in the crook of his elbow. “I’m a good listener, if you want to tell me what’s troubling you.”
“Please don’t ask, Ethan. I can’t tell you,” Rachel implored.
“My dear, I’m a minister. You can tell me anything. Your secrets are safe with me.”
The need to talk about her burdens to someone was more than she could bear.
“When Papa died, Becky and the children were depending on me to get us to safety. We had no one.” Rachel paused, unsure if she should continue. “Wade guided us to Fort Laramie, but Frank Jordan wouldn’t let us join up with the wagon train, because I didn’t have a husband. So I found Wade in the saloon and asked him to marry me.”
“Rachel, a lot of marriages began on less,” Ethan said with a dismissive wave.
“It’s not that.” Rachel twisted her hands around her shawl. Finally she blurted out, “Wade didn’t want to get married.”
Ethan paused in the dark, his hand gripping her arm as if she would run away.
“Rachel, what are you saying?”
She drew in a deep breath. “We agreed to pretend we were married until we reached Oregon.”
“You’re not really married?” There was surprise in his voice.
“No.”
“I don’t know what to say, except I’m shocked.”
Even in the darkness she could see his eyes searching her, could feel them probing her almost as if he wanted to touch her. The sensation made her uncomfortable.
“We’re not sleeping as man and wife. We’ve never…” She couldn’t continue.
The hand that rested on Ethan’s arm was suddenly covered by his other hand. “You’ve never consummated.”
“No,” Rachel whispered in the darkness, mortified they were discussing her virginity.
He squeezed her hand, drawing her in closer.
“It was the only way to continue on to Oregon.”
“You took a mighty big chance with your reputation,” Ethan responded, with a sigh.
“I didn’t have a choice. We could have been stuck in Fort Laramie the rest of our lives. I would never return to Tennessee,” Rachel explained, and a brief flash of anger struck her as she realized Ethan didn’t understand her lack of choices.
Crickets twittered in the night air before he finally said, “What’s wrong, Rachel? You’ve explained how you got to be in this situation, but you haven’t told me what’s really wrong. Are you starting to have feelings for Wade?”
Rachel had avoided this for fear the answer would be unacceptable. “I don’t know. He’s not the kind of man you are, yet he’s kind and gentle. He drinks and gambles, but I can’t wait to see him in the evening. I watch for him all the time, and I feel different when he’s around. I’m so confused.
Ethan patted her on the back.
“He accused me of being self-righteous. He says I always assume the worst about him, and he’s right.” She paused to wipe her tears with the end of her shawl. “I don’t know what to do, Ethan? How can we continue on to travel this way?”
Rachel watched as Ethan ran a hand through his hair. “You’re a good woman, Rachel, in a terrible mess.”
“I don’t think straight when he’s around.”
Ethan shook his head. “I respect your desire to reach Oregon, but you’re paying a price for your lying and deceit.” He paused. “Would you like me to talk to Wade?”
“Oh, no, Ethan. If he knew I’d spoken with you, he’d be upset. It would only make the situation worse.”
“Then the only thing I can suggest is prayer, dear Rachel. Lots and lots of prayer.”
“I know, Ethan. But I needed to talk to someone. And since Papa is…”
Ethan pulled her into his arms, holding her close enough Rachel could feel her breasts smashed against his chest. The top of her head fit up under his chin and he kissed her forehead. The touch of his lips, the feel of his body against hers, didn’t seem right.