Ana Seymour (16 page)

Jeb looked uncomfortable. “I’ll say good-night then. I’m just checking on everyone. Nothing important.”

Scott looked from Kerry’s tense face over to Jeb. Then he said in a hearty voice. “Join us if you like, Hunter. I’d offer you some bird, but it appears that this growing boy and I have finished up the last morsel.”

Jeb shook his head. “No, thanks. I’ll be moving along. We all could use a good night’s sleep.”

Kerry’s hands clutched at each other in her lap. Had Jeb had trouble sleeping last night, too? She fervently hoped so.

“Can we go riding again tomorrow, Jeb?” Patrick asked.

Jeb’s eyes were on Kerry. “Hmm,” he answered noncommittally.

Patrick smiled, evidently taking his answer as an affirmative. “Say, I never got to ask you, Kerry, about your ride the other night. With all the fuss over Molly it just went out of my head.”

Kerry tore her eyes from Jeb and turned toward her brother. Scott was watching her, his expression guarded. “The ride was fine,” she answered.

“Did you gallop? And did you hold fast to Jeb’s waist? It’s kind of hard sometimes, isn’t it?” he commented with the pride of experience.

Kerry hoped her flush did not show in the dim light. “I said it was fine, Patrick. But you heard the captain say that it’s time for everyone to get some sleep.”

“I just wanted to know if you galloped,” he said, sounding disappointed that he could not spend more time on a topic about which his experience far outweighed his sister’s. “I can gallop with him just fine. Can’t I, Jeb?”

“Sure thing, partner,” Jeb agreed, but his voice was distracted.

Scott stood up. “So are we going to turn in or are we going to sit here talking all night?” he asked.

Kerry gratefully stood next to him. “I’m going to turn in,” she said. “I don’t care what the rest of you do.”

“We’ll be heading out at the usual time tomorrow,” Jeb told them.

“Fine,” Scott answered. “We should be a happier
group. Today’s been rough on everyone. How’s Mr. Hamilton doing?”

Jeb shook his head in amazement. “He seems to be so much at peace that I can hardly believe it.”

“He says his Hester will be with him always,” Patrick added with a nod. “He does understand that she’s dead, doesn’t he?”

“He understands it,” Jeb answered. “He just seems to have an acceptance of it and a faith…” His voice trailed off as he pondered the mystery of Samuel’s peace. “I’ve checked in with him off and on today, and, instead of pitying him, I keep wanting to say ‘what a lucky man.’ It doesn’t make sense.”

“It makes sense to me,” Kerry said. “My father is with me inside, just like Samuel’s Hester. I’ll never completely lose him.”

Jeb was quiet a moment, his eyes on her. Then he said, “I guess that makes you lucky, too.”

“I guess it does.” She gave him a brittle smile, then nodded to Scott and Patrick and turned away to get herself ready for the night.

In spite of his promise, Jeb did not come to collect Patrick for a ride the next morning. The boy waited all day, finally giving up hope by late afternoon. He made no comment on his disappointment, but Kerry knew that it wasn’t only the ride that he had looked forward to. He’d come to appreciate what he considered the man-to-man exchanges he’d had with Jeb. He’d been able to talk with the wagon master in a way that he never could with his own father. He’d learned from Jeb. Their daily discussions had covered such diverse topics as the terrain of the West, horses,
hunting—things that a young boy could listen to for hours without tiring. If Jeb cut off their friendship at this point, Kerry thought, it would be a blow for Patrick.

She told herself that it was fine if he wanted nothing further to do with
her.
It was obvious that he was a cad and worse for introducing her to such sensual delights and then turning harsh and distant. She’d be far better off without him. She would concentrate on getting to California and realizing her goals. And she would not waste time regretting her encounter with Jeb Hunter. In fact, she did
not
regret it. Her brief experience with lovemaking had opened up feelings and sensations in her that she had never known existed. And in addition, it had taught her a valuable lesson—that loners like Jeb Hunter were better left to their loneliness. They were incapable of anything else.

She greeted Scott with more enthusiasm than ever before when he made his way once again back to their camp at supper time. Maybe Jeb was going to crush Patrick’s hopes, but Scott would not. From the very first, he’d been attentive and friendly to the boy. At noon that day he’d brought over an armload of clothes for him. Her brother seemed to be growing into a man before her eyes. His voice had lowered and rarely squeaked these days. And he could hardly fit in his clothes. The previous evening Kerry had commented that if they didn’t find a solution, Patrick would end up having to make the trip to California stark naked.

Her only reservation about the friendship was that Patrick was always a little too interested in Scott’s gold mining stories. But she supposed that when they
got to California, they’d go their separate ways and Patrick would forget about it.

Scott looked pleased at the warmth of her welcome, but made no move to take advantage of her change in attitude. He no longer tried to take her arm or make a personal remark with that charming smile of his. It was almost as if he’d decided to assume the role of a helpful and protective older brother, and Kerry found herself overwhelmed with a feeling a gratitude toward him.

They had a merry supper, relieved to be a full day’s trail now away from the specter of sickness and death. After the meal, the Burnetts joined them, John carrying Molly in his arms. She was a little weak, but almost back to normal. It was impossible to believe that she’d been so close to slipping away only three nights ago.

After an agreeable hour of conversation, John took the twins back to put them to bed and Scott said goodnight as well. Patrick climbed up into their wagon, leaving Kerry to sit with Dorothy. The close call with her beloved child had left the usually spunky Southerner shaken. Kerry provided a sympathetic audience as she listened to her friend’s hopes and dreams for her two daughters. For the first time, Kerry felt as if she could understand what it might be like to have a family, children of her own to love and plan for. Of course, that was not for her. She had a ranch to build. She had Patrick to care for.

And, besides, in order to have a family, she’d have to have a husband. She’d have to be in love. Jeb’s face as it had looked when he’d been holding her flashed through her head. He hadn’t come to their
wagon—even for Patrick. She shivered. She still didn’t know exactly what had happened between them. But it hadn’t been love. That was for
darn
sure.

By the time another full day had gone by without so much as a sign of Jeb Hunter, Kerry was starting to get angry. Even disregarding the fact that a gentleman would have at least checked on her welfare after what they had done together, disregarding the fact that he’d promised Patrick to take him riding, he was their hired guide, and it was his business to check in with them on a regular basis.

“Where is he?” she demanded angrily the next night at supper.

Scott shrugged, but John Burnett, who’d come over to use their fire to heat a kettle of soup, answered, “I think he’s been busy dealing with the water issue. He’s insisting we have to bring our supply down from the hills, even for the animals. A lot of folks aren’t too happy about it.”

“Even after what happened to Molly and Hester Hamilton?” Kerry asked.

John shook his head. “People have short memories, evidently.”

“Well, anyway, he should have been back here to keep us informed about what’s going on.”

“Frank Todd came around,” Scott supplied. “He said Hunter has flat out prohibited drawing from the river until further notice.”

Patrick was away paying a visit to the twins, so Kerry said, “He’d promised to take my brother riding with him. Patrick’s been terribly disappointed that he hasn’t come around.”

“Well, why don’t we take a couple of my mules and go for a ride ourselves?” Scott asked. “They’re not as elegant as Hunter’s stallion, but good enough for an evening outing.”

Kerry’s face brightened. “That would cheer him up.”

John was disapproving. “Hey, you know the rules. We’re not supposed to wander away from the train by ourselves.”

“We wouldn’t go far,” Scott said. “Just enough to give Pat the feeling that he’s had his daily ride.”

“Let’s do it,” Kerry agreed. She turned to John. “If Captain Hunter should finally decide to show his face around here, please tell him that we’ve gone riding.”

John looked grave. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” he said, but by then Kerry was already running toward his wagon to fetch her brother.

“They’ve gone
where?
” Jeb asked.

“They took a couple of Haskell’s mules. I don’t think they’re planning to be gone long.” Frank’s tone was placating.

Jeb sat on Storm and looked down at the earnest young settler in total disbelief. “The damn fools,” he said finally.

“They said they’d be back before sunset.”

“If the Pawnee don’t find them first.”

“The Pawnee?”

“We’re smack in the middle of their hunting grounds.”

John’s broad forehead furrowed. “What should we do?”

“The same thing we’ve been doing for the expeditions to bring down water—get together a group of armed men.
Men,
” he emphasized. “Not women and children.”

“They’ve got Haskell with them.”

“Great. And just how many guns did they take along?”

John shook his head.

Jeb looked out at the hills in the direction John had said the trio had traveled. “Damn fools,” he said again under his breath.

R
iding on the bristly back of Scott’s mule was not as exhilarating as the run on Storm had been, but it was pleasant to get away from the train for a while. The dust didn’t seem as thick, and the wind teased their nostrils with the gentle scent of the tall grasses around them.

When they’d ridden away, Kerry had kept watch over her shoulder, expecting to see an irate Jeb chasing them at any minute, but it appeared that no one had taken any notice of their leaving. The wagons receded slowly in the distance, and by the time they’d reached the first of the hills, she relaxed and forgot all about them.

She and Patrick were riding one mule and Scott another. Patrick had been ready to try an animal by himself, but Kerry had not been so sure, so he’d agreed to ride with her, as long as he could be in the front.

Scott had entertained them along the way with stories about mules from his blacksmithing days. The time passed quickly, and before they knew it they
were at the top of the hill, looking out over the broad expanse of prairie. The river flowed out as far as they could see to the east and west, looking silver and majestic, not at all brackish and dangerous from this viewpoint.

“Too bad we can’t just hop on a river and float all the way to California,” Kerry said dreamily.

“Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat, that would be wonderful,” Patrick agreed.

His American speech was becoming more colorful from his association with the other boys on the train. But Kerry did not chide him. They were in the wild West now. She supposed Patrick could talk a little more wild if he chose.

“You’d have a tough time floating over the Rockies,” Scott protested with a laugh.

Patrick refused to let his enthusiasm be dimmed. “It would be great, just the same.”

“Look. Some riders are heading out from the train.” Scott’s voice grew sober.

Kerry squinted far across the prairie in the direction of the train. Riders? She had expected to see Jeb. In fact, if she examined her motives for accepting Scott’s offer, she might even have had to admit that her agreeing to the ride had something to do with her pique over Jeb’s inattention. But she hadn’t expected an entire posse to fetch them back like some kind of horse thieves. It made their expedition suddenly seem like a greater transgression than she had imagined.

“We’d better ride down to meet them,” she said.

Scott nodded. “I hope we haven’t caused a problem. John was right. We probably should have at least told Hunter before we came out tonight.”

Patrick caught the tone of his elders. “Will Jeb be angry with us?” he asked.

Kerry didn’t answer, but Scott turned to the boy and winked at him. “He won’t be angry with you, lad. If he has a problem, I reckon it’ll be with me.”

They rode down the hill without further comment. The men across the valley had evidently seen them, because they stopped. By now they could make out that the lead horse was Storm with Jeb riding him. They continued closing the distance between the two parties as they watched Jeb turn to the other men and send them back to camp. He came on alone, riding hard.

It was another ten minutes before they met. By then Kerry was thoroughly regretting their impulsive excursion.

Jeb’s expression was harder than the granite from the hill they’d just left. He turned the brunt of his wrath on Scott.

“What in hell did you think you were doing, Haskell?” he shouted while their mounts were still several yards apart.

“We didn’t go far,” Scott said defensively. He, too, was obviously feeling remorse for their actions. “What are you getting so fired up about?”

Jeb reined in his horse and jumped to the ground, stalking toward them. He waved his hand toward Kerry and Patrick. “What am I fired up about? You ride off alone and unarmed into Pawnee territory. Would you like me to give you a graphic description of exactly what they might do to a young woman and a boy?”

When Scott remained silent, Kerry came to his defense. “It was partly your fault,” she said.

“Partly
my
fault?”

She wouldn’t let his badgering tone intimidate her. “Yes. We wanted to take Patrick for a ride after he’s been waiting for you to come for him the past two days.”

Jeb looked nonplussed for a moment, and when he spoke again, his tone had become a little less angry. “That’s no excuse for taking a risk like you all just did.”

“Obviously we didn’t realize that it would be any risk,” Scott said stiffly.

“Which is why
I
make the rules on this train and not you,” Jeb shot back.

“Well, there was no real harm done.” Kerry tried to soothe their feelings. “I’m sorry you felt you had to come look for us. We won’t do this again.”

“You’re damn right you won’t,” Jeb agreed. He turned his angry eyes on her now instead of Scott, but after a couple of moments, they seemed to soften. “I suppose I should apologize for not stopping by your wagon. I’ve been up to my ears in problems.”

The words sounded hollow even to Jeb. He
had
been dealing with a lot of problems, chief among them the water supply. But he could have made time to ride back to the Gallivan wagon for a few minutes. He could have taken Patrick with him for part of the day. He’d been avoiding it. He’d been avoiding
her.
He’d been an abject coward.

He looked at Patrick. “We’ll ride tomorrow, partner. I promise. And now I want to ask you to do me a favor.”

“What?” Patrick asked in a small voice, as though aware that he had been the cause of a lot of trouble.

“Can you ride that animal by yourself? Take it on back to camp?”

“Sure,” the boy answered, sounding confused. “But what about Kerry?”

“I’ll take your sister up on Storm with me. I want to talk with her in private for a few minutes.”

Patrick twisted around on the mule’s back and looked at Kerry. She gave him a nod of reassurance, then said, “Hold her still,” while she slid off the mule’s back.

“You don’t have to go with him, Kerry,” Scott said.

“It’s all right. You and Patrick go on back to the wagons and we’ll just bring up the rear.”

She waited, standing on the ground while both Scott and Patrick gave her a last doubtful look, then kicked their mules to start them walking sedately back to camp. Kerry walked over to Jeb and reached a hand up, but instead of helping her to swing up behind him, he dismounted himself. “We’ll just let Storm walk a spell,” he said, then belatedly added, “that is, if you don’t mind.”

Kerry’s insides felt shivery. It appeared that the conversation that she’d been both wanting and dreading to have with Jeb was finally going to take place. “What about the Indians?” she asked.

“We’re close enough to camp here. I’m not worried.”

Leading Storm behind him, he started in the direction of the camp and she fell into step beside him, waiting for him to speak first. It took him so long,
the thought occurred to her that they might walk all the way back to camp before he decided to open his mouth. But finally he said, “This has been poorly done.”

It wasn’t exactly what she had expected to hear. “What has?” she asked, understanding his meaning more or less but wanting to make him state his case more clearly.

“All of this.” He made a vague spiraling motion with his hand. “You and me. Patrick. Haskell…”

Now she was legitimately confused. “What’s Scott got to do with anything?”

He gave her a sidelong look. “What do you think?”

Her embarrassment about the trouble they’d caused was fading and she was beginning to get irritated with him again. “I have no idea, Captain.”

“I suppose you want me to believe that running off with Haskell tonight had nothing to do with the fact that I haven’t come around to talk with you since…since we made love.”

Kerry stopped in her tracks, forcing Jeb to do the same and making Storm halt so abruptly that he almost ran right into them. “I did
not
run off with Scott. What an absurd thing to say.”

“Well, you
went
off with him.”

“And with my
brother.
Does that sound like some kind of clandestine activity to you?”

Jeb took a closer hold on Storm’s reins. When the big animal began snorting restlessly, he reached back automatically and rubbed its nose. “Why did you do it, then?”

Kerry shook her head in exasperation. “So that my
brother could go out riding—just like I said before. It had nothing to do with you, Jeb Hunter. I’m sorry if it’s difficult for you to understand that the world doesn’t revolve around you. Or around your precious rules for that matter.”

Jeb looked a little discomfited. “I should have stopped by to talk with Patrick and explain how busy I was today.”

“And yesterday.”

“And yesterday,” Jeb agreed.

Her breathing calmed. “Well, we agree on that much, at least.”

“And I should have come by to talk with you. I tried the other night but you were eating with Haskell. I couldn’t very well discuss things with him there.”

“Discuss what things?” she asked, though she knew very well. Against her better judgment, she was already beginning to forgive him—for not coming to their wagon, for disappointing Patrick, for yelling at them tonight. He’d wanted to talk with her, he said. He’d tried. And now, tonight, he’d been
jealous.
Of
Scott.
It was unmistakable. And it made her heart soften dangerously.

He looked at her with an expression that was almost shy. “Would you like to, uh…” He gestured to a small cluster of trees about fifty yards to the south of them. “Shall we go tie Storm up for a while and sit down?”

Across the prairie the wagons were lighting up like puffy white lanterns as the settlers lit oil lamps inside to prepare for bed. “Don’t we need to get back?” she asked, alarmed to notice that her throat had suddenly gone dry.

He shook his head. “They’ll know we’re here. They can probably see Storm from the camp.” He took her hand then and led her toward the trees. “You’re cold,” he said as his big fingers closed around hers.

“No, I’m not,” she said with a little shiver.

He stopped and walked back a step to pull a rolled-up blanket from the back of his saddle. “Here, put this around your shoulders.”

They walked in silence to the group of trees. “I’m not really cold,” she said more emphatically. “But we can sit on this if you like.”

He nodded approval and she spread the blanket over the tall grass. It made a cushiony bed beneath her as she sank to her knees. Jeb tied Storm to a low hanging branch, then lowered himself beside her.

“So, here we are,” he said, clearing his throat.

The domineering wagon master was nowhere in evidence. It made her feel more self-confident. “Yes,” she said pleasantly.

“As I was saying…”

“You weren’t saying much of anything, Captain,” Kerry said with a touch of humor.

He rubbed a hand against his chin. “No, I reckon I wasn’t.” Then he turned to face her and said, “Would you mind calling me Jeb?”

His face was only inches from hers. “I wouldn’t mind,” she said, her voice growing softer.

“Good. Now I reckon what we have to get past here is the fact that we let ourselves get carried away the other night…”

“Is that what you call it?”

“Well, you know what I mean. We were both tired and overwrought from Molly’s illness…”

Kerry’s amusement faded. “Captain—Jeb, I most assuredly did not let you make love to me because I was tired and overwrought.”

“Damn it,” he said, striking his leg with his palm. “I’m trying to apologize, woman, and you keep interrupting me.”

“Apologize? Is that what this is all about?”

He let out a deep breath. “That night, I didn’t know you were…” He seemed to be struggling for the words. “I didn’t know that you’d never done that kind of thing before.”

“I guess you could have asked if you’d wanted to know.”

He nodded. “I should have asked. Or rather, I had no business putting us both in such a position, no matter how much experience you might have had.”

The features of his face were drawn taut with strain. All day long she’d been angry with him for his seeming indifference to what had passed between them. Now it appeared that he was anything but indifferent. In fact, he appeared to be suffering from a soul-searching far more painful than her own. She put a tentative hand on the sleeve of his buckskin shirt. “It wasn’t that bad, Jeb,” she said gently.

He groaned. “Your first time with a man and you have to say ‘it wasn’t that bad.’ Lord, Kerry, it’s not supposed to be bad at all. It’s supposed to be wonderful—magical. It’s the most intimate experience that a man and woman can share.”

She gave a half smile. “Well, actually, it was rather nice—most of it anyway. I’m not angry about it.”

“You should be. I’d feel better if you’d just slap me across the face and call me a bounder.”

She didn’t know whether to laugh or to offer him comfort. This remorseful side of him was harder to deal with than his arrogance. It set off tender feelings inside her that she didn’t want to have—not for Jeb or any man. “I’ll call you whatever you like, but I refuse to slap you. I’m sorry, but I don’t believe in violence.”

Her words brought a reluctant smile. “You’re a forgiving woman, Kerry Gallivan,” he said.

“And am I forgiven for our mule excursion?”

His eyes held hers. “Yes.”

“And you won’t make any more wild accusations about me running off with Scott?”

“Is he in love with you?”

“I hope not. I think he felt protective toward both me and Patrick, and that made him think he should make his offer of marriage. But what he really wants is to get to those gold fields.”

“The lure of the mythical Golden Fleece.”

Jeb’s voice again had that tinge of bitterness. “You don’t like prospectors very much, do you?”

Jeb hesitated a moment, then pushed back with his long legs to rest against the tree trunk behind them. “No,” he said.

It was as if a shutter had closed across his face. Kerry had seen it happen before, but this time she wasn’t going to let the matter go. “Why not?” she asked, turning around on her knees to face him.