Authors: Breanna Hayse
"My aunt forbade it," Blair
said glumly.
"The only reason
I have the drawers is because Madeline sewed them for me to maintain my modesty
as I went out riding.
I threw my corset
in the fireplace on my way out the door, and it was too much effort to remove
the petticoats."
"I applaud your maid for her wisdom,
and you for your choice.
Those
devices are pleasing to the eye, but are otherwise useless.
Especially out here.
Darling, what you do not understand is
that you are not equipped to be on your own in the wilderness.
It is not because you are a woman, but
because you have not been taught the necessities of pioneer living.
While we are on the trail, I intend to
teach you how to shoot a gun, clean a fish, and set a trap.
You will also learn how to make a fire,
cook, and mend clothes."
"I am not your servant!
If you think …"
"Listen up, Miss Farbor.
If something happened to me along the
way to your grandfather's ranch, how would you care for yourself?
Believe me, girl, being your nanny was
not on my list.
I will make the
best of this unpleasant situation as I can, and I strongly urge you to do the
same.
If not, I will not hesitate
to blister your backside every day until we reach Manitou Springs.
Got it?"
Blair's mouth opened and closed
silently.
Her perched position upon
his hard lap was causing more discomfort to her nether region than she cared to
admit, and it did not stop with the burning ache in her bottom.
She dared not squirm and give Sloan the
satisfaction of believing she was either tender or aroused, the latter of which
confused her.
She sullenly
dismissed her state of dismay to the effects of hunger.
"I wish to eat and then begin our
journey," she announced, standing and quickly placing several feet between
them, hiding her hand as she rubbed her tender posterior.
Sloan took his time to stand, making
certain that Blair's attention did not waver as he maintained eye contact.
"There are apples and some cheese
in the saddlebags.
Help
yourself."
"I want to have a real meal.
Something hot and substantial.
I have not eaten anything since
breakfast.
That was nearly ten
hours ago."
"Well, little lady, a proper meal
just ain't gonna happen in this town.
Maybe we can catch us some fish when we bunk down tonight and then you
can have your hot, substantial meal."
"You are an idiot, Mr. Adkins."
"I've been told that on numerous
occasions.
Where do you think you
are going?"
Blair lifted her skirts and wordlessly started
towards the stable's exit.
Sloan
grabbed her arm and pulled her to face him, his eyes again meeting Blair's as
she fearfully gulped.
"Do not
press your luck.
Ready that horse
and get set to leave before the sheriff's hospitality runs out.
No sass from you.
I am not in the mood."
Blair glared into the middle of Sloan's
back as they rode silently down the well-worn road towards their
destination.
The town they had been
sent to by the St. Louis sheriff did not have a wagon available, however, the
local judge and his wife generously loaded the couple with supplies and invited
them to stay the evening at their home.
After taking hot baths, laundering their clothing, and sleeping on firm
straw mattresses, Sloan and Blair departed early the following morning as the
sun started to rise on the horizon.
They had been out for only two hours when Blair's temper was starting to
stir.
Hungry, scared and physically
uncomfortable from riding, she swatted at biting flies and buzzing mosquitoes.
"I swear they are making a meal of
me!
Where are they coming
from?"
"We are paralleling a running
stream.
My guess is there are a
bunch of little offshoots of still water.
Stop fidgeting so much; you'll irritate the horse," he said,
glancing back at her.
"I am slapping at insects, you
chowderhead."
Sloan ignored the insult to his
intelligence, "There are no insects biting at your back end.
Plant your rump on his back before you
bruise him with your knees.
And
don't go giving me the uglies."
"What's wrong, boy?
Are you hating him as much as I do?
I hope so," Blair said to
Skinwalker as he tensed slightly between her legs and pulled his ears back.
She leaned forward against the animal's
long neck and patted his throat.
"Maybe you can bite him later."
"Trying to get the horse riled
against me isn't going to do you any good, Miss Farbor.
He will only sense your ire and end up
throwing you."
"How ... I mean, what are you
talking about?"
Blair caught
herself.
Sloan pulled his buckskin back to trot
next to her.
"The animal's got
his ears down, is side-stepping, and you are whispering in his ear.
It's not hard to put two and two
together."
"Unless you're an illiterate
cowboy," Blair mumbled under her breath.
"Maybe he senses a snake or something."
"I doubt it.
My horse is not reacting.
Just behave yourself and respect the
strength of that animal.
You have
no saddle, and if he rears up on you, you will go flying."
"Who the hell do you think you are
anyway?
He likes me and is not
…" Blair screamed as Skinwalker pounced forward before raising the front
of his body off the ground and throwing his rider into a bush.
Sloan quickly jumped off his mount to
help her up.
"Foolish girl!
Are you hurt?"
"Just my dignity," Blair
snapped, slapping his hand away as she refused his assistance off the
ground.
She rubbed her hip as she
marched over to the grazing horse.
He whinnied, ignoring her angry countenance.
"Throw me again and I will see you
headed to the glue factory!"
Few words were exchanged as they
continued down the uneven road.
Sloan veered his horse towards the line of reeds and willows, gesturing
Blair to join him.
They headed into
the tree line where Sloan hopped off his mount.
"This looks like a good spot to set
up camp.
Get down and bring your
saddlebags over here.
We don't have
much daylight left."
"It's about time," Blair said
as she gingerly sat upon a large rock and remove her boots.
"What are you doing?
There is work to be done.
You can rest later."
Blair looked up at his face and pursed
her lips.
"I am not so stupid
as to realize there is work to be done.
Believe it or not, the prospect of work does not disturb me.
I am not accustomed to being on a
horse's back as you are, and I merely needed to shake pebbles from my
boots.
Is that a crime, Mr.
God-fearing, clean living Adkins?"
Sloan's eyes crinkled at the
corners.
"You're really a
sight to behold when you got your knickers in a knot, girl.
I'm gonna water the horses and fill the
kettle while you gather up firewood.
Watch out for snakes.
They
don't always warn you."
Blair frowned at the hushed, gentle words
spoken to both horses as Sloan led them to the small, swift stream to
drink.
Thinking it would be nice if
he treated her as gently as he did the animals, Blair shoved her feet back into
her boots and stretched her body as she stood.
She scanned the ground for wood and
began to break off branches, leaving them in a neat pile before Sloan returned.
She turned to the sound of his
footfalls.
"Very good," he praised, nodding
toward the stacks of kindling and wood.
"There are fish in the river.
Have you ever fished before?"
"No."
"Then it sounds like a perfect time
to learn.
Do you think you can
strip off a couple of those underskirts?
You'll move through the bush much better.
You would also be more comfortable in
the summer heat with fewer layers."
"I cannot."
"Do it your way, you stubborn
chit.
You are worse than a squirrel
refusing to budge from a branch," Sloan shrugged, and led the way back
down to the stream where small pools housed a number of rainbow trout
scrambling through the water.
Blair watched, feigning disinterest, as
Sloan tried time after time to snatch a fish with his bare hands.
Becoming quite wet in the process, he
stripped off his shirt and washed his upper body in the cold water, scrubbing
trail dirt off with handfuls of grass.
Blair's lips parted and her breath quickened as she observed him.
His hands seemed to move in slow motion
over the rigid muscles of his shoulders, arms, and abdomen.
Her breath caught deep in her throat as
she openly stared at the ripples of his belly and the balls of muscle that
undulated under a dark gold tan.
A
golden shimmer rose from his skin as the dark sunlight of the departing day
shone down upon him, making him glow in the warm light.
He stood, his back facing her, and
revealed a carved physique from the back of his neck that disappeared in a
slender V-shape under the waistband of his heavy trousers.
"I'm gonna make a spear.
I… what in blazes are you doing, woman?"
Sloan asked as Blair reached under her dress and untied one of her cotton
petticoats.
Without a word, she
pulled the ribbons tightly to cinch the waistband closed and then gathered the
open hem in her hands.
She
carefully picked her way over the rocks and studied the stream before piling
some larger rocks to dam one side of a very narrow point.
Tossing some rocks inside the skirt to
hold it under water and anchoring it on either side of the little canal, Blair
positioned herself to hold the 'net' in place.
"Now is a good time to put your
commanding disposition to the test, Mr. Adkins.
Stomp around and scare the fish into
this channel."
"That is …"
"If you are going to say what I am
doing is stupid, then I will ask you to keep your opinion to yourself."
"I was going to say brilliant.
I am intrigued.
Ready?"
Blair bit her lower lip, hiding her
excitement as she saw four fish tumble into the basket made by the
undergarment.
She quickly drew the
hem edges together and gathered the catch.
Looking up at Sloan with a face-splitting smile, she offered him the net
to carry.
"Would you take this, please?
It's heavy.
The water needs to drain out of
it."
"Certainly.
I must say, Miss Farbor, that your
ingenuity is mighty impressive.
Please, allow me," he offered his arm to assist her out of the
shallow water.
Blair paused to look up into his
face.
He had removed the eye
patch.
She gently touched the top
of his cheek to look at his injured eye.
"Your eyelid still looks swollen.
Does it hurt?"
"Just annoying, especially if I get
dust in it.
How is your
bottom?" Sloan asked in return.
Blair blushed.
"I am just fine, thank you.
You had no reason to ask that of me
except to cause me embarrassment!"
"Girl, you really need to learn to
put those claws away.
I was
genuinely concerned.
I know I have
a heavy hand, especially when I mean business.
Not every question is meant to cause
offense."
"My back end recovered several days
ago from your 'heavy hand', Mr. Sloan.
Further, if you kept my personal parts out of the conversation, I would
not be offended.
It is quite
simple."