Authors: Sylvia McDaniel
Wade rode around the livestock and horses, checking on them before settling down for the night. He’d spent as little time as possible in his own camp in the last week. Rachel had been polite yet distant when they saw one another.
Maybe it was best this way. He could only be who he was, and that would never be good enough for Rachel.
Now, if only he could convince his body this attraction was impossible, he would be okay.
Deep inside, Rachel hid her desire from the rest of the world. Just once he wanted to unlock that desire, revel in its intensity. Then this temptation he thought of night and day would be satisfied, and he could go on his way.
Riding into camp, Wade watched Toby chase baby Daniel back to his pallet. Rachel was busy tending the fire, cooking the evening meal. Grace played with her dolls.
Frowning, Wade halted Sadie in front of Toby and swung his leg over the saddle, sliding down to the ground.
“Where’s Becky?” Wade asked.
“Uh…I don’t know,” Toby stammered.
Something in Toby’s voice drew Wade’s attention.
“Isn’t she supposed to be watching the younger kids, not you?” Waded asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Did she say where she was going?” Wade questioned, unsure if he really wanted to know where the silly girl was.
“No, sir.” Toby ducked his head.
Wade glanced around the camp. Other families were bustling about their own campsites, busily preparing their meals. He saw no sign of Becky.
Toby shuffled his feet in the dust, obviously uneasy.
“I’m going to look for her,” Wade said, annoyed. “If you see her, tell her to stay put until I get back.”
As he walked through the camp, his feet automatically carried him toward Ethan and Mary’s site. Three wagons down, he found Mary sitting alone by the fire. “Good evening.”
“Hello, Wade. You haven’t seen that husband of mine, have you?”
A trickle of unease scurried down Wade’s spine.
“No, ma’am. I’m sure he’s around. If I see him, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him,” he said, feeling a new sense of urgency. If he found Ethan, he would remind the man of his wife.
“Thank you, Wade. Supper is ready, and I hate to eat without him. He comes in later each day,” Mary said as she stirred a pot of stew over the fire, her face shadowed with anguish.
“He probably rode out farther than he intended. It seems the game has been further off the trail in the last few days.” Wade tried to reassure her, though his disturbing suspicions appeared more accurate all the time.
“Yes. That’s what Ethan said. If you find him, I’ll be down at your camp, visiting Rachel,” Mary said.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
Wade’s treacherous thoughts spurred him on. With the entire camp area examined, he stalked off into the early twilight. Except for a small knoll in the distance, the prairie was flat and open, with no place to hide. Long shadows fell across the land as the sun slowly disappeared.
Wearily, Wade strolled toward the hill, his boots sinking in the sandy soil. When he reached the mound, he climbed to the top to gaze across the prairie in the dusk, hoping to spot one lone rider and not two.
Instead, he found Ethan and Becky tucked in a cleft on the side of the hill a blanket spread beneath them. They lay entwined in one another’s arms, their clothes in total disarray.
The sight burned into his vision, all but blinding him with fury.
Wade cursed and, in two long strides, attained their sides. Before either one could react, he reached down and yanked Ethan off of Becky.
“Well, if isn’t Preacher Beauchamp and Miss Cooke,” he said as he released Ethan with a shove, sending the minister sprawling onto the rocky hillside on his bare buttocks, his pants hanging around his ankles.
Becky pulled her clothing over her nakedness, her cornflower blue eyes wide with fright.
“Ketchum!” Ethan gasped as he gingerly picked himself up, pulling up his trousers. “What—are you doing here?
“Looking for Miss Cooke,” Wade replied. “And searching for Mr. Beauchamp. Whose wife is waiting.”
“Well, you found both of us,” Ethan said, obviously annoyed.
“So, I did.”
Wade dismissed Ethan. The man was not worth his time. He would like to turn a blind eye with Becky, but she was Rachel’s sister. “You’re supposed to be watching the children.”
“I’m an adult. I don’t have to answer to you,” Becky snapped. Her dress was re-buttoned, her skirts back in place.
“You call this acting like an adult? Sneaking off, sleeping with another woman’s husband. What about Rachel? I’m sure you’ve managed to keep this little secret from her,” he growled.
Becky glanced at Ethan for support, but he was busy saddling his horse.
“Of course she doesn’t know,” Becky replied defensively. “And I don’t need you to run back and tell her.”
“Why shouldn’t I? Why shouldn’t I tell Mary?” Wade asked.
“No one would believe you, including my wife,” Ethan challenged.
Becky smiled wickedly. “It will be your word against ours. And who’s going to believe a two-bit gambler.”
“Leave it be, Becky. I’ll take care of this,” Ethan called from the shadows.
He tightened the cinch on his horse and finished loading the blanket. Wade watched as he walked over to Becky. In the last five minutes, he’d undergone a subtle change from annoyance to self-confidence.
“Go back to camp, Becky. I’ll handle this situation with Wade,” he said, dismissing Becky with a frown.
The look she gave Ethan before she finally stalked away, leaving the two men alone, should have singed his blonde curls.
The grin on Ethan’s face left an evil twist around his lips. “Before you decide to tell my wife about me and Becky, I think there’s something you should know.” He paused, his eyes twinkling wickedly in the twilight. “I know about you and Rachel.”
Wade kept his face expressionless while inside he burned. Rachel must have confided in this sermonizer who spouted religion and brandished deceit. “What about us?”
“Rachel told me about your marriage”—he grinned—“or rather your pretend marriage.”
Trying to remain indifferent, but itching to put his fist through Ethan’s face, Wade shrugged his shoulders. “So?”
“Frank would find this tidbit of gossip rather interesting.”
“Tell him,” Wade said nonchalantly.
“He could force you to marry Rachel, leave you along the trail or let you continue as you are but shunned by everyone.” Ethan paused, obviously delighted with his information. “Everyone would assume the worst regarding dearest Rachel. She would be the one hurt by the ugly gossip. Not you.”
Wade smiled menacingly. “My guess is you’re going to tell me that if I don’t keep my mouth shut about you and Becky, you’ll tell everyone about Rachel and me?”
“That about sums it up,” Ethan declared triumphantly. “It would cause quite a stir.”
Wade spit on the ground. What a choice! Let Rachel suffer the embarrassment of a ruined reputation, or keep quiet about Becky and Ethan. The options rankled him.
He wasn’t afraid of Ethan threats, but Rachel’s reputation would be in shambles. No one would believe they’d never known each other intimately.
“I’m not going to say anything. Not to protect either one of you and not because of your threat. But if you hurt Rachel…” Wade glared at Ethan. “You won’t have to worry about cheating on Mary anymore. I’ll sharpen my knife on your face; then I’ll pretend it’s springtime and we’re castrating the bulls. You get my drift?”
* * *
How could life get so complicated, Wade wondered.
When he arrived back at camp, he discovered Rachel and Mary sitting around the fire in the evening twilight, sewing. Rachel was working on a sampler, while Mary sat beside her, putting the finishing touches to a shirt for Ethan.
He watched from the shadows as they talked, their heads bent low over their needlework, laughing at something Mary said. How would the news of Ethan’s affair affect their friendship?
“Good evening, ladies,” he said, startling them from their sewing.
“Good evening,” they murmured.
“Did you find that misplaced husband of mine?” Mary asked.
“No,” Wade lied. “But I bet he’ll be along shortly.”
Mary sighed. “Lately, he’s gone more and more. I’ll be glad when we reach Oregon City and settle down to a normal life.”
“I’ll be glad when we can get back to normal meals,” Rachel groaned. “I’m tired of beans and bacon. Speaking of which, I left some beans on the fire for you, Wade.”
Mary turned and asked, “You look tired, Wade. Are you as tired of the trail and ready to reach our destination as we are?”
How could he respond? Yes, he was ready to reach Oregon, to leave behind the problems of Becky and Ethan, the sight of Mary’s anxious face. But part of him didn’t want to reach their destination. Part of him didn’t want to leave Rachel. The realization rocked him back on his heels.
He took a seat before he answered, “Yes, I’ll be glad.”
“I wish you all were going to Oregon City with Ethan and me. It would be wonderful to start our new life together.”
Wade sat silently, eating from his plate. He couldn’t help but think, when hell freezes over.
“Do you and Ethan have to go Oregon City?” Rachel asked. “Why couldn’t he teach in The Dalles?”
“He has a job waiting for him,” Mary replied, her disappointment visible in the firelight.
“He might find a teaching or preaching position in The Dalles,” Rachel said wistfully. “The position my father was going to take is now available.”
“When he comes in tonight, I’ll talk to him,” Mary said, her voice full of hopes and dreams.
Becky walked into the circle of firelight, her face cold and sullen. Rachel glanced up, “Where have you been? I’ve been worried about you.”
“Mrs. Simpson’s baby is due any day now, so I helped them set up their tent,” Becky replied, her eyes searching Wade’s.
With a disgusted snort, Wade threw his half-eaten food into the fire. “I’m sure Mrs. Simpson appreciated your help,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
Becky shot Wade a smirk. “Yes, she did.”
Ethan strolled into camp, a confident bounce in his step. Mary jumped up from her chair, throwing aside the shirt she was hemming the worry lines around her face easing. “You’re back. I was getting anxious.”
Wrapping his arms around his wife, Ethan glanced at Wade, his eyes gloating. It was all Wade could do to keep from jumping up and throttling the man.
“I didn’t mean to be gone so long, but I’m home now,” Ethan said, enveloping his wife in a reassuring hug.
Becky watched the couple a scowl on her beautiful face. As Mary stroked her husband’s cheek, Becky’s expression turned icy, hatred shimmering in the sapphire depths of her eyes.
“Where were you, Ethan?” Rachel asked, her eyes questioning.
“Trying to locate some stray cattle.” He sighed and sent Wade a measuring glance. “Maybe I’ll have better luck tomorrow.”
Wade couldn’t help but wonder how Becky liked being referred to as a stray cow, and couldn’t resist saying, “I didn’t know we were missing any cattle?”
“Frank lost ten head yesterday. I volunteered to help him find them,” Ethan replied.
If Frank had indeed lost cattle, Wade hoped he’d found them, but if this was a lie, he wished it would blow up in Ethan’s face.
Apparently unaware of the challenge flowing between the two men, Rachel said, “Ethan, we were just talking about how nice it would be if we were all together in one city. You could replace my father at the church in The Dalles.”
“I may consider that proposal,” Ethan said as he glanced toward Wade, with a smirk on his face. “Right now, all I want to think about is a nice warm bed. Come on Mary. Let’s go home.”
Mary picked up her sewing. “See you tomorrow.”
“Good night,” Rachel replied.
Wade felt the urge to reprimand Rachel. How could she consider inviting the man without first consulting him? Then again, he would no longer be her husband in The Dalles. She would no longer be his concern.
He would disappear, Rachel would tell everyone he’d been killed in a mining accident and Ethan’s threats would no longer apply. Or would they?
God, what had they done? What a web of lies they’d devised, ensnaring themselves without realizing the consequences to their lives. What should he do now?
* * *
Thunder echoed through the mountains, its rumble fading in the distance. Lightning traced wicked paths to the ground, and the air smelled of rain. The animals moved restlessly, stomping on the earth and snorting.
Unable to sleep, Wade watched the storm move across the western sky. The animals were secure, or at least as protected as possible, and the tent was tied down tightly, the children asleep.
He struck a match to light the last of his cheroot. For the second time in a week, he savored several puffs off his last cigar. It was going to be a long, wet night, so he might as well enjoy himself before the storm began.