A Heart So Wild (8 page)

C
OURTNEY lay there watching the stars for several hours. Then she turned over and stared at the dying fire. It was nearing midnight, she guessed, not knowing for certain.

She had calmed down. Chandos hadn't touched her again, hadn't even come near her except to hand her a plate of food. He hadn't spoken either, but he undoubtedly figured he didn't need to say any more.

The bastard! What right did he have to appoint himself her teacher? What right to raise her hopes so high, then destroy them? Still, she didn't quite have the nerve to risk provoking him by telling him what she thought of his “lesson.”

The tears began, tears born of misery. They were silent tears for the most part, with only a few sniffles and an occasional ragged breath to give her away. But that was enough. Chandos heard.

He had not been sleeping. He had his own troubled thoughts keeping him awake. Not the same thoughts, for he felt no remorse over what he'd done. His intentions had been good, even if the execution had been a bit drastic. Better
the girl suffer a fright now than end up in some unmarked grave on the prairie later on. Talking wouldn't have done any good, he knew that, because she wouldn't have listened.

Trouble was, he hadn't expected her pain to have such an effect on him. It was almost the same as that other time, when he'd held her life in his hands. Some protective instinct had risen in him, and he wanted only to comfort her, soothe her. Knowing she was crying was ripping away at him. He couldn't stand it.

His first thought was to take off until she settled down, but he knew damn well that she would think he was leaving her, and he didn't want to frighten her any more. Damn her! Women's tears had never bothered him before. What was so different about these tears?

Soundlessly, Chandos got up and crossed the space between them. He dropped down beside the girl without warning, and she gasped as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her gently into the curve of his body, her back pressed to his front.

“Easy, little cat. Relax. I won't hurt you.”

She was stiff as a board. She didn't trust him. Well, he could hardly blame her for that, could he?

“I'm only going to hold you, nothing else,” he said in a soothing voice. “So you can stop crying.”

She turned around just enough that she could see him. Chandos was stung by the sight of her wet face. Her eyes were like great wounds.

“You've ruined everything!” she said pitifully.

“I know I have,” he found himself saying. Anything to placate her.

“I'll never find my father now!”

“Sure you will. You'll just have to find another way to get to him.”

“How? You made me spend so much of my money on supplies that I can't afford to get to Waco now. I bought clothes I'll never wear, a horse that's so old Mr. Sieber will never take her back, and a useless gun that cost even more than the horse!”

“A gun is never useless,” Chandos said patiently. “If you'd been wearing yours today, you could've stopped me before I ever got near you.”

“I didn't know you were going to attack me!” she retorted indignantly.

“No, I suppose you didn't,” he said reasonably. “But you should have. You have to be prepared for anything out here.”

“I am now.”

She cocked the gun she'd hidden beneath her blanket. His expression didn't change.

“Very good, lady. You're learning. But your timing will have to improve.” His hand slipped beneath her blanket to grasp the gun barrel and pull the gun from her grip. “Next time make sure you're facing your target first, especially if you're so close to it.”

“What's the difference?” She sighed forlornly. “I couldn't have shot you anyway.”

“With enough provocation, you can shoot anything. Now stop crying, will you? I'll pay you back the money.”

“Thank you very much,” she said tightly, not in the least pacified. “But that isn't going to help much. No matter how I get to Texas, I still
can't travel alone. You've proved to me that I can't trust anyone. So where does that leave me?”

“You shouldn't have to go to your father anyway. He should come to you. Write to him.”

“Do you know how long it would take a letter to get to Waco?
I
could get there faster.”

“I could take your letter for you.”

“You're going to Waco?”

“I wasn't going that far, but I can.”

“You won't,” she said disagreeably. “Once you leave here, you won't bother.”

“I said I would, and if I said I would, then I will.”

“But what if my father isn't there?” she ventured. “How will I know?” Her eyes pleaded with him, but he gave no sign that he understood.

“I'll probably come back this way sometime.”

“Sometime? I'm supposed to wait for
sometime
?”

“What the hell do you want from me, lady? I have other things to do than run errands for you.”

“I want you to take me to Waco! You said you would.”

“I never said I would. I told you to fill a supply list. You drew the conclusion you wanted to draw.”

He hadn't raised his voice at all, but she knew he had lost patience with her. Even so, she couldn't let it go.

“I don't see why you can't take me. You're going to Texas anyway.”

“You haven't learned a thing, have you?”

His voice was cold now. “I—I have,” she said nervously.

“Uh-uh. Otherwise you wouldn't still be willing to travel with me.”

Courtney looked away, embarrassed. He was right, of course. She shouldn't even be speaking to him.

“I know why you did what you did,” she said in a small voice. “I can't say I appreciate it, but I don't think you meant to hurt me.”

“You don't know that at all,” he said flatly.

Courtney tensed as suddenly his arms tightened around her.

Breathlessly she said, “Would you—would you really have…?

“Listen to me, lady.” Chandos cut her off sharply. “You don't know what I'm capable of. So don't try to guess.”

“Are you trying to frighten me again?”

He sat up. “Look,” he said curtly. “All I wanted was for you to stop crying. You have. Now let's both try to get some sleep.”

“Why not?” she said resentfully. “My problems aren't any concern of yours. Forget I asked for your help. In fact, just forget everything.”

Chandos stood up. Her flippancy didn't bother him. She was a woman, and he supposed complaining made her feel better. But her next words stopped him cold.

“I've got one option. Reed Taylor will take me to Waco. Of course, that means I'll have to marry him, but what else can I do? I'm used to things not turning out the way I want them to, so what's the difference?”

She had turned back onto her side, facing away from him, and was talking to herself, not
to him. Sonofabitch! He didn't know whether to ignore her or beat some sense into her.

“Lady?”

“What?” she snapped.

Chandos smiled. Maybe she had some spunk after all.

“You should have told me you were willing to use your body to get to Waco.”

“What?” She swung around so fast her blanket fell away. “I would never—”

“Didn't I just hear you say you would marry that fellow?”

“That's got nothing to do with—with what
you
said,” she retorted.

“Doesn't it? Do you think you can marry a man without sharing his bed?”

Hot color rushed into Courtney's cheeks. She hadn't thought about it at all, had only been talking to make herself feel better.

“It's really none of your business what I do after you take me back to Rockley,” she said defensively.

He approached, towering over her. “If you're selling your virginity, I might be interested.”

She was speechless. Was he doing this just to shock her?

“I was speaking of marriage,” Courtney said, her voice quavering. “Were you?”

“No.”

“Then we have nothing further to discuss,” she said firmly and turned away.

Chandos watched as she reached behind her for her blanket and pulled it up to her chin.

He turned away for a moment and looked up at the black starry sky, thinking he must be crazy.

He took a deep breath and said it anyway. “I'll take you to Texas.”

There was a shocked silence. Then she said, “Your price has become too high.”

“No extra price, lady, just what you're willing to pay me.”

After everything, he was changing his mind yet again! She was too vexed to say anything except, “No, thank you.”

“Suit yourself,” he answered casually, then walked away.

She was proud of herself for refusing. Who did he think he was, playing with her life?

For a long time there was only the sound of the crackling fire. And then she said in a whisper, “Chandos?”

“Yes?”

“I've reconsidered. I accept your offer.”

“Then get to sleep, lady. We'll be leaving early.”

T
HE strong smell of coffee woke Courtney. For a moment she lay there, feeling the morning sun on her face. She had never slept under the open sky before, and she found it very pleasant to wake up to the gentle caress of the morning sun. Her bedroll was quite comfortable, too, spread out on the thick grass. Maybe she wouldn't miss having a wagon along after all.

When she moved, she had second thoughts. God sakes, her body was sore all over. And then she remembered Mattie's warning. They had ridden nearly six hours yesterday. It wasn't hard riding, and they'd covered only fifteen or twenty miles, no more. But to sit that long in a saddle wasn't what Courtney was used to. Her muscles were making their grievances known.

She turned over, wincing. It was worse than she'd thought. And then her eyes fell on her companion and all thoughts of discomfort were forgotten.

Chandos was shaving. He stood about three yards away, where the horses were tethered. A shaving mug with brush in it was set on the ground at his feet. A mirror was hooked onto
his saddle, which was already cinched to his horse. The mirror didn't meet his height but was angled so that he could look down into it.

She had watched her father shaving often, but it was not the same as watching Chandos. He wore no shirt, only pants and boots, and the gunbelt that clung to his hips, slanting down to where the holster was strapped to his right thigh.

She watched as he raised his arm to scrape the lather from his face. She watched his muscles bunch and move, her gaze drawn irresistibly to the straight, hard lines of him. His bare skin was dark and smooth and fascinating.

“Easy, Surefoot.”

His horse took a step away from him, and she was amazed by how soothing and gentle Chandos's voice could be. He said something else in a language she didn't recognize. And then Courtney gasped as she heard, “You'd better help yourself to some coffee, lady. We're not going to be here much longer.”

Pink rose to her cheeks. Did he know she'd been watching him? How on earth did he even know she was awake?

Courtney sat up slowly, feeling once again the soreness of her muscles. She felt like groaning, but she didn't dare let Chandos know she was hurting. They had ridden only one day. If he thought she couldn't take it, he might change his mind again.

“Was that Spanish you were speaking?” she asked conversationally.

“No.”

“Mattie thought perhaps you might be Spanish. Is your name Spanish?”

“No.”

Courtney made a face. God sakes, what a sourpuss he was. Couldn't he be pleasant for once? She tried again.

“If you're not Spanish, what are you?”

“Coffee's getting cold, lady.”

So much for a civil conversation, she thought. And then her attention focused on the coffee. She was hungry!

“Is there any food, Chandos?”

Finally, he looked at her. Her hair had come unbound while she slept and spilled over her left side, covering most of her plaid shirt. He remembered twisting his fingers in that hair. She was looking at him now with heavy-lidded eyes that were even more slanted than usual. She was tired from crying and from being awake half the night. He knew damn well she had no idea how utterly seductive she looked.

“There's biscuits by the fire,” he said curtly.

“Is that all?”

“I usually eat light in the morning. You should have eaten last night.”

“I wouldn't have been able to keep it down. I was so—” She stopped herself.
Don't mention yesterday, Courtney
. “Biscuits will be fine, thank you.”

Chandos turned back to finish shaving. He must be loco, he told himself. There was no other excuse for taking a woman—
this woman
—through more than four hundred miles of wilderness. A goddamn virgin! She didn't even know any better than to stare at him, thinking he wasn't aware of her. But the moment her eyes touched him, he'd known. He had felt
those eyes as surely as if it had been her hands instead of her eyes, caressing his body.

He didn't like what she made him feel. But he would take her to Waco. He would take her because otherwise he would never be able to forget her beautiful tearstained face, her cat eyes filled with despair. He had no desire to carry that image with him the rest of his life, as he had carried these last four years the image of that frightened girl who reminded him of his dead sister.

To his chagrin, she had been linked with him from the day he first saw her, linked through what he had suffered and what she was about to suffer. When he spared her life, she became a part of his.

She didn't know this. There was no reason for her to know.

It had been a mistake to visit Rockley in order to see whether she was still there. It had been an even worse mistake to go back to save her from her foolishness. She was not his responsibility. He wanted only to be free of this affinity, to sever the link that bound them. Instead, he was taking her to Waco. Yes, he definitely was loco.

“Chandos?”

He wiped the remaining lather from his face, grabbed the shirt hanging on the saddle horn, then turned to look at her while he slipped it on. She was sitting next to the fire, so very ladylike. She held a tin cup in one hand and the remains of a leftover biscuit in the other. On her face was a stain of hot color, and she wouldn't meet his eyes. She looked around at the flat expanse of land all around them, de
void of brush or trees. He guessed her dilemma instantly and waited to see what she meant to do about it.

Her eyes flitted to his, then away again. “I—I seem to have a .. what I mean . . oh, never mind.”

His eyes lit with laughter. She was incredible. She would rather suffer than mention what she doubtless considered an unmentionable subject.

He sauntered over to the fire and hunkered down next to her. “You ought to do something with this,” he said, flipping a lock of her hair over her shoulder.

Courtney found herself staring at his bronzed chest, the black mat of hair. He really shouldn't have come near her with his shirt open. Still, she supposed she would have to get used to his lack of propriety if she was going to travel with a man who totally disregarded such things.

“All right,” she said demurely. She pulled the pins she'd collected from her bedroll out of her pocket and quickly twisted the long length of honey brown hair into a knot, securing it at her nape. Chandos studied her intently while she kept her eyes averted from his. He was going to have to keep his distance from her.

“I'm going to ride out,” he said abruptly. When her eyes darted to his, alarmed, he added, “Don't be long, or you'll have trouble catching up.”

He gathered up the coffeepot and his tin cup, kicked out the fire, and then rode off. Courtney sighed audibly with relief. Now she would have a few minutes of privacy to answer nature's call.

And then, quickly, came the realization that Chandos had known what her problem was. How utterly mortifying. Well, she was just going to have to squelch her delicate sensibilities and adjust to traveling with a man.

She wasted no time, worried that she might not be able to catch up with Chandos. As soon as she could, she lit out after him.

She needn't have worried. He had put about a quarter mile between them, but no more. He sat facing west, and didn't even bother to look back as she approached. When she pulled to a halt beside him, he glanced at her.

He handed her a strip of jerky. “Gnaw on that. It ought to hold you until we stop at midday.”

So he knew she was ravenous. Those two biscuits hadn't satisfied her hunger, not when she hadn't eaten since yesterday morning.

“Thank you,” she said softly, keeping her eyes lowered.

But Chandos made no move to ride on. He was staring at her. Finally she was forced to look up. She found those beautiful blue eyes as inscrutable as ever.

“This is your last chance to turn back, lady. You know that, don't you?”

“I don't want to turn back.”

“Do you really know what you're letting yourself in for? You won't find anything even remotely civilized out there. And I told you, I'm no nursemaid. Don't expect me to do anything for you that you can do for yourself.”

She nodded slowly. “I will take care of myself. I ask only that you protect me if the need
arises.” Then she added hesitantly, “You will do that, won't you?”

“As well as I can.”

She sighed as he looked away from her to return the pack of dried jerky to his saddlebag. At least that was settled. Now if only he would stop acting as if she had forced him into this, they might get along. At least he could stop calling her “lady,” which sounded more like a derogatory remark than a title of respect.

“I do have a name, Chandos,” she ventured. “It's—”

“I know what it is.” He cut her off, prodding his horse forward and into a canter.

She stared after him, stung.