Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (18 page)

She got up, moved to the end of the wagon and peered out. A flash of lightning illuminated the area. Rain and Gavin were beneath the canvas shelter, snug and dry. They had placed it with the back to the wind. She wondered how many makeshift shelters Rain had made over the last seven years.

“I’m hungry.” Eleanor’s complaining voice came out of the darkness. “Get me something to eat.”

“No. You can wait and eat with the rest of us.” The pity Amy had felt for the spoiled girl was gone.

“You’ve got bread and butter in that box. Are you refusing to give it to me?”

“Yes, I am. We noon tomorrow on what we have in the box. We’ll eat when the storm passes.”

“I’ll tell Rain.”

“Go ahead.”

“I could have him if I set my mind to it, you know. I’ve yet to see the man I couldn’t have if I wanted him.”

“That must be a comfort to you.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I believe you think you can have any man you want. But if it’s true, then why didn’t you pick out a rich man in Louisville and set your cap for him? Then you wouldn’t have had to make this
awful
trip with all these
awful
people you hate so much.”

“There wasn’t a man in Louisville I’d wipe my feet on. None were as rich as Willy or had his background and breeding, either. For your information,
ma’am,
Willy Bradford is a very good catch.”

Amy fumed. Conversation with the woman was impossible. She folded back the flap at the end of the wagon and looked out. The wind had died down and it was raining lightly. She fumbled in the supply box for bowls, spoons and cups for tea, slammed her hat down on her head and jumped down out of the wagon.

Rain had kindled a small fire just under the canvas. Amy squatted down beside him.

“I brought bowls and spoons,” she said and set them down beside the pot of stew.

“Good girl. I was coming to get them as soon as my fire got going.”

“Oh, shoot! I forgot the bread.”

“What about Miss Woodbury? Is she coming out?”

“I don’t know. If she doesn’t I’ll take some to her.”

Rain put his hand on her wrist. “Don’t wait on her, Amy. I’ll ask her to come out and eat. She can come and eat with the rest of us or do without.” He moved out from under the shelter and went to the end of the wagon.

“He’s right, lass,” Gavin said. “That miss needs to be doin’ fer herself.”

“I doubt she knows how.”

“Then it’s time she be learnin’. We be doin’ her no favors by doin’ for her, tis a fact.”

“I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

Rain returned with Eleanor in his arms. He lowered her to the boughs Gavin had cut for beds.

“Thank you, Rain.” She laughed a light trilling sound. “Oh . . . it’s nice and cozy warm in here. And I’m so hungry.”

Amy went back to the wagon for the bread, sloshing through the water, resentment making her linger longer than necessary. When she returned Eleanor sat with her legs drawn up under her, talking about how the storm reminded her of the one that destroyed her home, and how glad she was that it was over. She promised she would not be afraid the next time. Amy spread the bread cloth on the ground and broke off chunks of the bread, then took the bowl Gavin filled for her.

There was scarcely room for the four of them in the small space. Eleanor’s skirts took up most of one side. Amy’s elbow came in contact with Rain’s when she lifted her spoon to her mouth. Eleanor chattered cheerfully, her eyes wide and childlike, her red mouth smiling. Amy suspected she was practicing her craft on Rain, intending to prove her boast that she could have any man she wanted if she set her mind to it. Because she was so uncommonly pretty, there was a niggling fear in Amy’s mind that she could succeed. For the first time in her life she was jealous of another woman.

“I j-just have to admit, Rain, that it was the most awful day. But I know what to expect now. It will be better tomorrow. I’ll get used to it. You’ll see. The first of anything is the hardest. Don’t you think so, Rain?”

“It takes a while to get used to the pace.” Rain’s answer was a long time coming. His face showed nothing. He sat cross-legged, looking out into the darkness when he raised his eyes from his bowl.

“Be patient with me, Rain.”

“You’re doing fine.” Rain dropped a chunk of bread into his bowl and passed a piece to Gavin.

“This is the first time I’ve been off by myself—without Aunt Gilda.” Eleanor’s voice fluttered in her throat, and the words came out not much above a whisper. Her eyes wandered to Rain and clung beseechingly.

Amy closed her eyes against the scene.

“You’ll be all right.”

“Oh, I know that. I know you’ll take care of me. It’s just that . . . I’m so lonesome for Aunty Gilda, and this country is so big and . . . so wild.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t know how you’ll be able to find Willy way out there in Arkansas. I’d never heard of it when he wrote for me to come. I had to ask where it was.” Eleanor’s lavender eyes questioned and then she squeezed them tightly shut as if to hold back tears.

“I’ll find him. Don’t worry about it.”

Amy looked up and found Gavin’s eyes on her, blue and anxious. She tried to smile at him but could not.

“Here’s my bowl, ma’am,” Eleanor said. “I thank you kindly, but I just couldn’t eat it all.”

Amy took the bowl and set it on the ground. She didn’t look up. Because if she did and Eleanor had a smug smile on her face she was afraid she would be goaded into saying something she would regret later.

“I think I’ll go to bed, Rain,” Eleanor said wearily.

“Don’t you want tea?”

“I’ll take some later. Aunty Gilda used to always bring me a cup of tea before I went to sleep.”

Rain reached for the kettle and poured tea into one of the cups. “If you’re going to have some, you’d better take it with you.”

Anger flashed across Eleanor’s beautiful features for only an instant before disappearing completely, and they took on a dejected, woeful expression. The change was noticed only by Gavin’s sharp eyes.

“Oh, flitter. It’d be cold by the time I was ready for it. I’ll . . . just not have any, I guess,” she said petulantly. The embarrassing quiet that followed was broken by the sound of something crashing through the underbrush next to the shelter. Now fear washed across Eleanor’s face and she asked in a rush, “What’s that?”

“Probably a coon, curious about our fire.”

“Can’t you shoot him or something?”

“Why? This is his territory. We’re the intruders.”

Rain poured tea into a cup for Amy. He picked up the one Eleanor had refused and drank from it before he refilled it.

“I just guess . . . I’ll go to bed.” She looked directly at Amy. “Will you light a candle, ma’am?”

“No lights,” Rain said firmly. “This fire is going out as soon as we finish eating.”

“It’s wet and muddy. I’ll ruin my slippers.”

Gavin moved out of the shelter. “It’s stopped raining and, by gory, if the moon ain’t out. I’ll tote ye back to the wagon, Miss Woodbury. Twill save yet fine slippers from the mud.”

“Tomorrow wear heavy shoes.” Rain’s tone was not kind.

“Heavy shoes? Whatever for?”

“So you can walk some of the time.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I can do that.” Eleanor waited expectantly for Rain to reply, but he said nothing.

As soon as she got to her feet Gavin swept her up into his arms and headed for the wagon. When he reached it, he lowered her feet to the box they used for a step. His big hands clamped on her shoulders and kept her from turning to climb inside. Their faces were level and he brought his close to hers. He gave her a shake that whipped her head back and forth.

“What? What are you doing? You—you dolt!”

“Ye listen to me, ye little spawn a Satan. I can see ye workin’ yer wily ways on the lass’ mon. Ye got yer own mon waitin’ fer ye, so ye leave this one be. Hear? The lass loves him, tis plain to see. Ye’ll not be a breakin’ her heart for naught.”

“Get your hands off me, you ignorant oaf!” she hissed angrily and hit at his hand. “Let go of me or I’ll yell my head off and Rain will send you packing—after he beats the stuffings out of you.”

“Yell, me beauty. He may cast me off, but I swear by all that’s holy I’ll not be far behind ye. I’ll be waitin’ my chance to catch ye, somewhere, sometime. I’ll upend ye and swat yet bare bottom with a hickory switch. Tis what ye been needin’ all the time.”

“You dare to strike me and Willy Bradford will hunt you down and kill you.”

“If’n he be a mon a’tall he’ll be thankin’ me. For tis a spankin’ ye sorely need.”

“You’re stupid and ignorant. How do you know what I need? And I’m not forgetting that you pinched me today!”

“Ye deserved it for yer stubborn ways. Now hear me, lass. Leave the girl’s mon be or ye’ll be answerin’ to me with more’n a pinch on your bottom.” He swung her up and over the tailgate and dumped her in the wagon.

The wet canvas slapped her face and rain trickled down her back. Her anger held back tears of frustration and discomfort. Slowly she got to her knees and then to her feet. Frantic fingers worked at the buttons of her dress. She let it and layers of petticoats fall to the floor. Then she worked on the laces of her corset. Flinging it to the front of the wagon, she reached under her pillow for the long loose nightgown and slipped it over her head. She crawled beneath the covers before she realized she still had on her shoes and stockings. She removed them and lay down again, pulling the covers over her head.

*   *   *

Amy, on her knees, placed the bowls and spoons in the empty stew pot and wrapped the remainder of the bread in the cloth. She hadn’t lifted her eyes to Rain’s since Gavin carried Eleanor away. Now she saw his hands pull the sticks from the campfire so it would die out.

“We can wash the pot in the morning.” His voice came to her softly out of the darkness. “Sit by me and drink your tea. Gavin will not be back for a bit. He went to see about the horses after he dumped Miss Woodbury in the wagon.” There was a hint of laughter in his voice.

“Dumped her? Why would he do that?”

Rain chuckled. “I can think of a number of reasons. It didn’t hurt her or she’d have cried out.”

“You hear everything.”

“It’s a habit I picked up when I didn’t know if I would be alive come daylight. If I can’t see, I listen.”

“Uncle Juicy and I used to sit outside at night and he’d make me identify the different sounds. At the end, his hearing left him.” She sank down on the boughs where Eleanor had sat and he put her cup in her hand.

“Are you tired?” His low-voiced query hung in the air.

“A little.”

“It was an easy day compared to what’s across the river.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing the mountains.”

“They’d be puny alongside the mountains farther west. But it’s beautiful country. In some places you can see for miles. In other places the forest is so thick it’s as dark as night, even when the sun is shining.” He reached for her hand and she turned her palm up to meet it. “I want to show you the country along the Arkansas.”

“I heard you telling Farr about it.”

Her fingers found the spaces between his and gripped hard, the tea in the cup on the ground beside her, forgotten. Abruptly he moved closer and put his arm around her, fitting her into the curve of his shoulder. Nothing seemed important to Amy except the feel of his big, hard body against hers, the regular thump of his heartbeat against her upper arm and this peaceful, relaxed feeling.

“Being with you gives me a feeling of contentment. It’s a strange feeling, yet somehow familiar too,” he said in a husky whisper. The arm holding her drew her closer. “Do you feel it, Amy?”

“Yes,” she whispered and closed her eyes. “We’ve known each other for a long time.”

“It’s more than that. It’s almost like I was lost and have found my way back home.”

“I’m glad,” she whispered. “I’m so . . . glad.” Her attempt to speak was weakened by the depth of her emotion. She leaned her head against his shoulder and a wave of great joy washed over her. She felt so much happiness she was giddy, light-headed, unable to think clearly.

“I hear Gavin coming back. He moves like a buffalo.” Rain laughed softly.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“He’s there, by the cedar.”

“I don’t see him.”

“Look at the outline of the tree. You can see his shoulder and arm.” He moved his head until his cheek was against hers.

“I see him how.”

He brought the hand holding hers up to his chest. Ever so gently he opened her fingers and pressed her palm against the base of his throat. It was such a sweet, simple gesture. It conveyed a deep longing to touch and be touched.

“I want to kiss you before he comes over,” he whispered as he pushed the strands of long hair back from her face.

Amy was aware of the heavy beat of his heart and the warm skin of his neck. When his fingers lifted her chin her lips parted and searched for his. He kissed her softly, sweetly, time and again. Her arm curled about his neck and the kisses became longer and more demanding. He gathered her even closer to him and their hearts thundered together. His lips were no longer gentle, they were hard, hungry. With a groan she could hear reverberating in his chest, he lifted his head and pressed his cheek tightly to hers.

“I liked doing that, sweetheart. I liked it too much!” He spoke with rough tenderness, his breathing fast. His fingers stroked her hair and rubbed her jaw. His lips traveled around her ear and then to her mouth as if he couldn’t help himself. His lips played sweetly on hers for what seemed to Amy too short a time before he lifted his head and his arms fell away from her. “I’d better let you go . . . while I can.”

They walked slowly to the wagon, Rain’s hand at her waist. A few feet away from the end, he pulled her to a halt.

“I’m glad you’re tall,” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t have to bend over so far to kiss you.”

His mouth tenderly and almost reverently planted a kiss on her lips. The kiss was of a totally loving nature. A wave of tenderness for this big, quiet man flooded Amy’s heart. He was lonely and longed for love as much as she did. Her fingertips moved in small caresses along his jawline to the dark hair around his ears, and her palms caressed the rough planes of his cheeks. He stood perfectly still while she placed a tender kiss on his lips before she moved away.