Magnificent Passage (14 page)

She was enjoying the intimacy she felt growing between them, which had not existed before. But she wanted to move the conversation away from herself.

“James said you were raised by the Cheyenne. Was it terribly hard on you?” She knew Hawk rarely spoke of his past. His dark eyes held hers, as if deciding how much to reveal.

“At first it was tough. But once I accepted my new life, I liked it. The Cheyenne are the only family I have left. My real parents died in a carriage accident when I was young. I was traveling west with my aunt and uncle when the Comanche attacked our small band of wagons. I was the only one who survived.” He glanced away, a quick flash of pain reflecting in his eyes.

“I'm sorry.” Her heart went out to the small boy who had suffered such tragedy.

Hawk searched the girl's green eyes. She looked as
though she wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him. It made his chest tighten.

“That was a long time ago. Fortunately for me, the Comanche didn't want to fool with a bad-tempered white boy, so they traded me to the Cheyenne. The Cheyenne call themselves ‘the human beings.' It fits them somehow. They're warmhearted, generous people.”

Without realizing, she touched his hand as if trying to absorb some of the hurtful memories.

“How did you happen to leave?” she asked.

“Something just seemed to call me. My curiosity wouldn't let me rest until I knew about my past. I went to St. Louis to find a friend of my father's—one of the few people I could remember. He received me as if I were his long-lost son. Gave me everything I needed to readjust to civilization—schooling, manners, speech. I'll never forget him. He died just a few months ago.” He felt a second flicker of pain, then set his jaw and called his mask back into place.

“Enough about me,” he added, a little too jovially. “Tell me about you. Do you really fancy yourself in love with this Jason fellow?”

Mandy thought she saw a quick flash of regret, as if he wanted to call back the question. She wished with all her heart he could.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to compose herself. She was forced to continue the lie. If he suspected—even for a moment—that she was not really the governor's daughter, neither she nor her cousin would have the chance for a new life. She steeled herself for
the feeling of guilt she knew would come and answered with as much sincerity as she could muster.

“Why, of course I love Jason. We're going to be married, and there is nothing anyone can do about it.” If she hadn't known better, she would have sworn she saw him flinch. Then a look of cold steel came into his eyes that only moments before had been brown velvet.

“Love . . . ” he snarled. “You wouldn't know the meaning of the word.” He hauled her roughly against him and bent over her, crushing his mouth cruelly against her lips.

Mandy struggled, trying to free herself. She pushed against his chest, but he grabbed her wrists and shoved them behind her. His lips assaulted her, leaving a fiery trail wherever they touched. She struggled harder, terrified her limbs would soon refuse to obey. He held her easily, controlling her, gentling her.

His kisses turned soft. He caressed her lips with his. She felt her arms, no longer restrained, go around his neck, her fingers slipping through the damp strands curling over his collar. His tongue sought the warmth of her mouth, probing its recesses tenderly, sending flames of sensation burning through her. Then he was kissing her cheeks, her neck, moving back to her mouth. His lips scorched her soul. She was weak and light-headed, helpless to resist. She felt him unbuttoning the front of her dress, burying his face in the soft cleft between her breasts. Her tormented mind knew what she was doing—what she was feeling—must be wrong, but the heat of her passion would not let her stop. His rough hands explored the taut peaks of her breasts, teasing them, causing new sparks to flicker through her. The
warmth of the flame spread to her loins, igniting her with a strange, aching need.

Then suddenly, as quickly as he'd begun, he stopped, almost tearing himself away. “Love!” he taunted, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “That's your idea of love. Just a quick, meaningless toss.” His voice, husky with passion, echoed his obvious disgust. “You'd better get some sleep before I forget any rash promises I may have made. Good night, Miss Ashton,” he ended sarcastically, stalking heavily away.

Mandy was too stunned to move. She hated herself for what she'd allowed him to do. She hated him for what he made her feel. She didn't understand him or herself. What was happening to her? Ashamed and humiliated, she lay down on her bedroll. She was glad he couldn't see the tears streaming down her cheeks.

M
orning brought a drizzling rain that soaked the prairie and drenched the travelers.

Somehow it seemed appropriate, matched her mood, and that of the big man. James arrived early with the supplies and handed her a poncho. She mounted Lady Ann, who was as soggy as she, and they departed.

Mandy took a deep breath and braced herself for the day ahead. She could smell the parched musky odor of the damp earth as it turned dark and soft, soaking up the needed wetness. If she were able, she thought, she would melt away, lose herself in the river of mud at her feet. If only she were back in the safety of her world at the fort. There she had no worries, no feelings to be crushed carelessly at a man's whim—at least not feelings like those she'd been experiencing of late. Of course it had been lonely, but wasn't loneliness better than this hollow empty feeling she carried around most of the time now?

She knew it was partly the lies. It was not her nature to be deceitful. Now that she cared about her two companions—in ways even she didn't understand—it was even harder. But she had no choice. She'd given her word, and she'd abide by it. Julia's happiness—as well as her own—depended on it.

She thought of the vast, beautiful country they'd crossed, the things she'd already learned and seen. Whatever happened, she'd done the right thing.

The day was wet and cloudy, and a little windy at times, but it was not cold. It did, however, cancel any plans Mandy might have had for delaying their journey. She would have to wait until the storm finally abated.

The scent of pine needles filled the air now; the morning was clear and clean. The mountains they were traveling through were the most rugged and beautiful Mandy had ever seen. The peaks remained tipped with snow, and fluffy white clouds floated just beneath the crests. Jagged buttes gave way to great gorges, forested hillsides, and tumbling streams. The scenery was so spectacular Mandy took courage from the beauty surrounding her. Maybe today she would find the opportunity she'd been seeking.

Dressed once more in the tattered riding habit, Mandy rose and made a breakfast of sourdough biscuits and bacon. The three were on the trail with little delay. They had proceeded only a short distance when Hawk spotted a plume of white smoke curling on the horizon.

“We're only a day's ride from Great Salt Lake City,” he said, his manner brusque, “but it never pays to be careless. James, you stay with the girl. I'll go ahead and see what's up.”

James nodded his understanding, and Hawk urged his big roan forward. In seconds he was out of sight.

James glanced around briefly, then rode to the forward position to keep a sharper eye on the trail ahead. Engrossed in watching for any sign of trouble, he paid Mandy little heed.

A plan had been forming in Mandy's mind for several
days. If ever the men relaxed their vigil—and she was certain they would, sooner or later—she would simply turn around and ride back in the opposite direction—as far and as fast as she could. James might try to catch up with her, but he was not the tracker Hawk was. If she left the trail on rocky ground, she was sure she could lose James. She wouldn't go far—just far enough to cost them another day. By late afternoon she'd let them find her. Besides, she was sick and tired of being bullied by that big white Indian.

Recognizing her opportunity, Mandy turned Lady Ann around on the path and cautiously picked her way back down the hill. As soon as she rounded the first bend, out of James's sight, she urged the mare into a gallop. Off she went, down the hill as fast as she could

The wind sang against her ears, and the little mare flew over the soft-packed earth. Mandy slowed, left the trail just as she had planned, and, finding an open area, again gave Lady Ann her head. She thought of Schooner and was careful to watch the ground in front of her—and little else. Finally slowing to a walk, she trotted down the hill through a cool pine forest and several hours later emerged in some high-meadow flatlands. She marveled at the magnificent scenery and continued on toward where she believed she'd rediscover the trail.

“She's gone, Hawk. It's all my fault.” James waited at the base of the ridge, twisting his hat in his hands. “I rode ahead on the trail just as a precaution. I guess she's been so good lately, I let myself be lulled into trusting her. I followed
her trail back down the hill a ways, but lost it in some rocks. I figured we'd have a better chance together.”

Hawk's face went white with suppressed rage. “That woman! She's got the face of an angel and the heart of a witch.”

“I was so worried about a possible attack, I let her slip off. I shouldn't have trusted her, Hawk. I'm sorry.”

“Fortunately, it was only a group of friendly Utes. As for trusting that . . . that . . . baggage, we'll find her soon enough, and this time I'll teach her a lesson about trust.”

“Now, Hawk,” James cautioned, “remember, she is the governor's daughter.”

Hawk didn't reply. Instead he set his jaw, wheeled his horse, and headed in the opposite direction, back down the hill.

James felt a chill go through him at the determined look on his friend's face. This was no longer just another job. Maybe Hawk cared for the girl more than he knew—and caring for a woman was not something a man like Hawk wanted to do. James pitied her, but whatever happened now, he knew she'd brought it on herself.

As the sky turned pink and gold, Mandy began to feel alarmed. Why hadn't the men caught up with her? They should have easily found her by now. Glancing at her surroundings, the reason for their delay became apparent—she was lost.

She'd left the trail only to throw them off a little. She certainly hadn't meant to get herself lost in the process. Fighting down a moment of panic, she told herself there
was no reason to be afraid. She'd camped every night for weeks and was certainly able to take care of herself. She wished she had a gun, but a fire should be enough to keep away any predatory animals. Maybe the men would even see it. She chided herself for not having enough foresight to stash a little food for her dinner.

She located a good campsite, made a fire—thank God she had sulfurheads in her saddlebags—and unfurled her sleeping gear. Ignoring the gnawing in her stomach, she lay down on her bedroll to try and sleep. Grudgingly, she admitted she missed the comforting presence of the moccasined man silently checking the camp and keeping a protective eye in her direction. As it was, every tiny noise seemed magnified a hundred times. How she wished she'd been watching the trail instead of indulging herself in a race with the wind.

After what seemed hours, she fell asleep. Velvet brown eyes and an even smile filled her dreams.