Beloved Outcast (15 page)

A knowing look flashed in Night Wolf’s eyes. “Logan, no man, even a white one, wants to share his woman with another.”

“I didn’t sleep with his wife!”

“You share your blanket with many women, is that not true?”

At the barely veiled censure in the Indian’s words, Logan flushed. He couldn’t believe the strange collection of people with whom he’d lately discussed his love life. Windham, Victoria, and now Night Wolf. Folks ought to recognize there were some things a man preferred keeping private.

“The white man’s ways are different from the red man’s. In Trinity Falls, there’s certain women who…” Logan scowled when he saw Night Wolf’s downright fascinated gaze.

“Certain women who what?” the Indian asked encouragingly.

“Who are willing to frolic in a man’s bed with no strings attached. They just want to have a good time.”

“But you must pay for your good time?” came the shrewd question.

“Yeah, I pay for it. And it’s a lot cheaper and less complicated than having to marry to get it.”

“I see.” Night Wolf paused, as if to consider the ramifications of Logan’s explanation. “And they ‘frolic’ with many men? None of these paid-for women belongs to only you?”

“That’s the whole idea. I don’t want one woman.” Maybe if he kept saying it, he might believe it.

“Not even the fire-haired one who journeys with you?”

Logan opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

“This fire-haired woman whom the spirits protect and who shares your blanket, Logan—do you pay her in the white man’s paper or the People’s gold?”

It was obvious that the Indian had no idea how insulting his question was. Still, Logan felt his temper rise. “I don’t pay Victoria anything.”

“Ah, she ‘frolics’ because she truly desires to?”

“She doesn’t frolic!” Logan fairly snarled. “She’s different.”

“She is a dreamer,” Night Wolf concurred, imbuing the word with far more substance than Logan had intended. “And she has great courage.”

“Why do you say that?”

“When, for some reason, the other wagons went on without her, she continued alone.”

“She didn’t have a choice.”

“Did she not, Logan?”

“She refused to lighten her wagon by leaving her books. When she couldn’t keep up, she was left behind.”

“That was her choice, then. To keep what she valued most.”

“She should have valued her skin!”

“Dreamers do not always act in ways the rest of us understand. They follow a voice we do not hear.”

Logan wished he’d never called her by that ridiculous name. Night Wolf was reading far too much into the casual reference.

“She’s from Boston,” Logan said, as if that somehow explained Victoria’s behavior.

“I have heard of this Boston place. Is that not your home village?”

Thinking of the thriving seaport as a village took some doing. “It’s where I grew up.”

“Then you already knew this woman? Was she your friend?”

“Boston is a crowded city. We never met.”

“It is strange that you would both travel to this place to find each other. The spirits must have willed it.”

“No divine force brought us together, Night Wolf. Martin Pritchert hired her to tutor Madison. Meeting her before she arrived in Trinity Falls was a coincidence.”

“I see.”

It was plain from Night’s Wolf’s skeptical expression that he didn’t see at all.

“It was just a case of bad luck, like me being thrown into the stockade because I gave Windham your warning about the fort being attacked.” Logan rubbed the back of his neck. “From now on, though, I intend to mind my own business. No more risking my skin to save someone else’s hide.”

“You are wrong, my friend.”

“If you have any more warnings about Indian attacks, keep them to yourself.”

“There will be no more warnings.” A look of sadness tinged the tall warrior’s eyes. “I am taking my tribe north.”

Logan was shocked. “You’re leaving the territory?”

“There is not room for my people and yours to live here.”

Logan didn’t know what to say. Since he was a white man and did a brisk business with the miners who panned for Indian gold, he was as much an invader as the others of his kind.

“Do not feel guilty, my friend. I have known other white men. None are as honorable as you. Remember, you have not brought this trouble to us, and you cannot make it go away.”

“I’m sorry.” The words were pathetically inadequate, but Logan couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“We will not see each other many more times, Logan Youngblood.”

Logan experienced a sense of loss. Except for the brother who’d betrayed him, Logan hadn’t shared another friendship as strong as the one he had with the solemn-eyed warrior.

“The longknives are close,” the Indian informed him. “They water their horses downstream from where you left your woman.”

Logan stiffened. “I better get back to Victoria.”

“She is in no danger from them, but they might want to punish you for not leading them to our village.”

“They’ll want revenge for the fort being burned, and they won’t be particular about which tribe they blame,” Logan agreed.

“All Indians are the same to the bluecoats,” Night Wolf observed.

“No matter what happens, I won’t guide them to your village.”

The Shoshone chief’s gaze flashed with amusement. Logan couldn’t imagine what the man found humorous.

“But what about your ‘skin’? I thought you were going to guard it most carefully.”

Logan frowned. “I can do both—stay alive
and
protect your people.”

“My friend, you are the one with your head in the clouds if you believe the things you have told me this day.”

“What do you mean?”

“You say the spirits have nothing to do with watching over your woman. But she is alive when she should be dead. Had you not been locked in the fort, and had she not freed you, both of you would have perished. And, if you do not ‘frolic’ with her, you are a fool. The spirits have given her to you, just as they gave you to her.”

Logan’s skin grew clammy at the thought of Victoria being killed. Yet he knew a woman traveling alone in this wild country was doomed to almost certain death. If he ever caught up with the wagon master who’d abandoned her, he was going to make the man pay for leaving her behind.

“Have you nothing to say, my friend?”

“Yeah. For all your talk about finding one woman to belong to you, I notice you share your blanket with no one. From what I’ve seen, there are several pretty Indian maidens who flutter their eyelashes in your direction.”

Notwithstanding the warrior’s dark coloring, a splash of crimson stained his sharply defined cheekbones.

“I have not found her yet, the one I will call wife.”

“Maybe I haven’t, either.”

“Why do you tell yourself such lies?”

Logan glared at the chief. “You haven’t even met Victoria. Why do you think so much of her?”

“I have seen her from a distance.”

“And?”

“And the sun smiles upon this woman who walks boldly through the People’s land. That she still lives proves the spirits also smile upon her. A man must respect and admire such a woman. She has…merit.”

Logan felt a definite tug of jealously. “I’m surprised you would think any white woman has merit.”

“My mother was white,” the Indian reminded him.

Logan’s gaze fell to the sharpened stick he still gripped. “She thinks I’m…unworthy of her.”

“Ah.”

Logan’s head snapped up. “Ah, what?”

“Your pride is great, my friend.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You told me once why you left your village. I do not think it wounded your heart when the woman from your past chose your brother instead of you. I think it pierced your pride.”

“I should have never told you that story,” Logan grumbled. Nor would he have shared that private humiliation, had he not been drunk on the cheap whiskey he’d been given to fight off the pain of a gunshot he’d received when tracking those damned renegades.

“You do not accept my counsel?”

“Let’s just say that, when you have a wife of your own, I’ll be more inclined to listen to your advice.”

A faraway look filled the Indian’s gaze. “I seek no such woman. For now, it is my people who claim my heart.”

Logan had learned some things about the Indian way of life when he lived among them while recuperating from his wound, but there were elements of it that were still shrouded in mystery. He wondered, for example, whether there was a way in the Shoshone culture for Night Wolf to satisfy his physical urges without the sanction of marriage. He had no intention of asking. Unlike some people, he respected a man’s privacy.

“There’s a chance I might need to borrow one of your horses,” Logan said, turning to a new subject.

“Just one?”

Logan nodded. He’d put together the beginnings of a plan whereby he and Victoria could be alone when she finally discovered who he was. Or, more importantly, who he wasn’t. He didn’t want to cause her public embarrassment. Besides, if they were alone, he would be able to accept her apology in a setting conducive to a passionate demonstration of her heartfelt repentance for thinking the worst of him.

It would be better for her reputation if she drove the wagon into town by herself. People would be impressed by her fortitude, and there would be no taint of scandal from their being together for almost two weeks.

“You have the look of a man with a plot, Logan Youngblood.”

“You’re right about that.” Logan was confident that his hastily contrived scheme would benefit both him and Victoria.

All he had to do was avoid the cavalry and speak with Martin Pritchert before Victoria arrived in town.

“And it is a plan that will protect your pride?”

Logan smiled. “Of course.”

“I fear you are headed for trouble, my friend.”

F
rom her position on the densely treed rise overlooking the riverbank below, Victoria stared in dismay at the dozen or so soldiers who had halted their mounts beside the strip of water.

It had been the muted sounds of their passage that drew her from the campsite. The sight of the uniformed men who stood clustered in small groups, conversing with one another while their horses drank from the stream, sent a bolt of dread through her. Victoria didn’t delude herself as to why the sight of the soldiers panicked her instead of comforted her.

These men were part of the same army responsible for beating Logan and leaving him in that squalid stockade to die. A burning sense of outrage swelled within her. She wanted to charge down the riverbank and berate them for their savagery. Only the knowledge that she would place Logan in jeopardy stopped her.

She left the hilltop and retraced her steps to the clearing, realizing that, by not making herself and Logan’s presence known to the soldiers, she had become his accomplice. Surely duty demanded she turn Logan over to the army. She swallowed the sharp-edged lump in her throat. She, who had been raised on duty, had just violated every precept she’d ever been taught.

Her father was a federal judge. He dispensed cold justice to men who broke the law. If he were in her place, he wouldn’t suffer any qualms about turning Logan over to those soldiers.

She remembered the horrible beating Logan had suffered. Not even the rigid code of conduct upon which she’d been reared would make her return him to that vile authority.

“There you are,” Logan said. “I wondered where you were.”

Victoria came to a halt. So hurried had her pace been that she reached their camp without realizing it.

“Hush! Keep your voice down!”

His expression stilled. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”
Everything! Not far away are soldiers I should turn you over to, but I can’t because I’m afraid I’ve gone and done something so stupid as to fall in love with you.

She drew a calming breath. “I see you caught more fish.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“I have a headache. It soothes the pain if I lower my voice.” Good grief, she was becoming a consummate liar.

He looked as if he didn’t believe her brilliant fib. She supposed it was to be expected that a man who lived his life by deception recognized dissembling when he heard it.

“Then I’ll keep my voice down. Maybe eating will make your headache go away.”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“How far do smells travel?”

“What?”

“Well, we’re supposed to be avoiding any unwelcome company, you know—like bears and Indians,” she improvised. “I was just wondering if the smell of cooking food traveled far.”

“We’ve been on the trail for almost two weeks. Why are you concerned about this now?”

“What about our run-in with that cougar?”

“We weren’t cooking anything when that happened.”

“I know.” If she told him about the soldiers, she would have to explain why she hadn’t delivered him into their hands. She refused to confess her feelings toward Logan when she couldn’t admit them to herself.

As soon as they reached Trinity Falls, he would no longer be a part of her life. That would be soon enough to deal with her confusing emotions. It would be safer to come to terms with her attachment when he wasn’t standing in front of her.

“I suppose I’m thinking we’ve been lucky avoiding any unwelcome company, except for the mountain lion and the bee.”

He shook his head. “You’re lumping a mountain lion and a bee together?”

She bristled at his mocking tone. “I’m concerned about our welfare. Now that we’ve almost made it to safety, it would be foolish to draw any unwelcome attention.” She glanced around meaningfully at the lodgepole pines that marched up to their tiny camp. “I’ll bet this forest is brimming with Indians looking for an opportunity to collect a few new scalps.”

“We’re in friendly territory now, Victoria.”

“Well, there might be soldiers—” She broke off in disgust at where her words had taken her. The last thing she’d wanted to bring up was the presence of the United States Army.

“Night Wolf said there was a troop nearby.”

His announcement stunned her. “You spoke to Night Wolf?”

He nodded. “A few minutes ago.”

She looked past him in consternation. “But I wanted to meet your Indian friend. Why didn’t you bring him to camp?”

Logan shrugged. “I didn’t see the point.”

“Didn’t see the point?” Victoria demanded, incensed. She still remembered to keep her voice lowered. “I’ve been
looking forward to meeting an American primitive. Night Wolf would have been perfect.”

“Why is that?”

“Because he isn’t hostile.” Really, Logan could be quite dense at times. “I wanted to meet a real Indian chief. You can’t deny you called him a brave and noble warrior.”

“I’m not sure I used those exact words. Besides, I was trying to save you from being disappointed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your expectations of Night Wolf are too high. The truth is, he’s.”

“What?”

“Old. Really old. He’s lost all his teeth and most of his hair.”

“I didn’t realize Indians went bald,” she mused, not caring that the Shoshone warrior was past his prime.

“Well, they do. And one more thing about Night Wolf—he really stinks. You never want to stand downwind of him. Nor do you want to eat with him. It’s disgusting how he gums his food.”

“Thank you for the warning, but it appears I shall never meet him.”

“I’ll introduce you to another Indian someday.”

There would never be a “someday,” Victoria thought, blinking away the sudden moisture that filmed her eyes. She busied herself with putting the skillet on the low-burning

fire.

Logan watched Victoria cook the fish he’d caught. He wasn’t surprised she was disappointed about missing Night Wolf. She’d obviously built up the Shoshone chief to be a great warrior.

Logan scowled. Since he, too, admired the Indian, Logan didn’t dispute her estimation. What he did take issue with was her gazing at the man with admiration shining in the verdant depths of her green eyes. Since he, himself, had never sparked that reaction from her, he’d be damned if he
watched her shower someone else with the gift of her feminine adoration.

That was something he wanted only for himself, just as he wanted her soft female heat for himself alone. But the only way he could receive those treasures would be to tell her who he was. And have her believe him. Of course, after they reached Trinity Falls, the matter would be moot. It would be proved irrefutably that he wasn’t running from the law but was instead a respected citizen.

Victoria slid the fish onto a flower-patterned plate. “Lunch is ready.”

She hadn’t turned him over to the soldiers…

Logan had stood behind her on the bank as she looked down upon the troop of uniformed men. He’d held his breath, waiting to see what she would do. He really wasn’t in that much danger, though, because Windham wasn’t with the party. It was unlikely a warrant had been issued for Logan’s arrest. He doubted the colonel wanted many people knowing how he’d left Logan to die at the fort for a matter so personal as the officer’s offended honor over a supposedly adulterous wife. No, that was something a man liked to keep to himself.

As he helped himself to a couple of the fried trout, Logan studied Victoria. She had settled herself on a blanket and was listlessly using her fork to poke a piece of fish. Most people who spent any time on the trail would gobble down any morsel of food set before them. Not Victoria. She was one of the fussiest eaters he’d ever met. Her finicky attitude was probably a result of her refined upbringing, he decided. Just like her cultured way of speaking and her obsession with books.

She looked up. “Why are you staring at me?”

Why didn’t you turn me over to the soldiers, Victoria? Have you begun to trust me, after all?

“I’m waiting for you to stop chasing that fish around your plate and eat.”

She jabbed a chunk of the flaky trout, plopped it between her teeth and held his stare while chewing with dainty Vigor.

There was no reason for him to find her rebellious gesture at all sensual. Yet he did. But then, he found most of the things she did disturbing to his senses. Like the way she walked—briskly, as if in a hurry, yet with an unmistakable sway to her hips. Or the way she blinked when she was caught off guard and tried to get her bearings. Or the way she tilted her head when she was amused by something. Even the way she breathed caused his pulse to beat in double time.

For a moment, he teased himself with the brief glimpses he’d caught of her body after the rainstorm, as she changed into dry clothing. He hardened at the memory and cursed himself for being stupid enough to invite the image into his mind in broad daylight with Victoria sitting less than five feet from him. He would have liked nothing better than to lower her onto that blanket and—

”Logan, you’re being awfully quiet.”

“I thought that was what you wanted.” Somehow he got the words past his dry throat, just as he got the fish down that same tight passage. For all of Victoria’s surprisingly good cooking, he might as well have been eating dirt. He tasted nothing.

She cocked her head, as if listening for something. A delicate furrow lined her smooth brow. “I think, as long as we talk quietly, there’s no harm in engaging in a simple conversation.”

Logan translated that to mean that she thought the soldiers had left and it was safe to resume normal activity.

He took a swallow of water from the dainty china cup Victoria handed him at each meal. “Was there anything in particular you wanted to discuss?”

“You mentioned earlier that you wanted to show me something.”

A surge of anticipation shot through him. “As soon as we’re done eating, we’re going to take a short hike. There’s a couple of things close by that you might find interesting.”

“Such as?”

“I thought you might like to see the waterfalls.”

Barely contained excitement shimmered in her upturned gaze. “Oh, Logan, I would love to see them.”

Excitement shimmered in Logan, also. He tamped it down as best he could. “There are some hot pools nearby, too.”

“Hot pools?”

He nodded, trying to keep his expression neutral. “They’re deep, and just the right temperature for a bath. I thought you might enjoy one.” He cleared his throat. “It would give you a chance to clean up before your arrival in town tonight.”

A look of caution crept into Victoria’s formally beaming countenance. “And where will you be while I’m taking my bath?”

He really shouldn’t be insulted at her misgivings about his intentions, Logan reflected. After all, he’d almost ravished her twice. Because of her innocence, she didn’t realize he’d made love to her a hundred times. In his mind.

“I’ll be in my own hot pool, washing off several pounds of Idaho trail dust.”

She raised a winged, auburn eyebrow. “How close will your pool be to mine?”

Damned if she wasn’t catching on to how his mind worked.

“Pretty close.”

She nibbled her lower lip. He could almost see her mind working as she weighed the pros and cons of accepting his invitation to use the warm springs.

“A hot bath sounds splendid,” she observed thoughtfully. Her expression lightened. “And it’s not as if I can’t trust you to. respect my privacy. After all, we’ve been together for almost two weeks now, and except for…uh…our
rather bumpy beginning, you’ve been a perfect gentleman.” She beamed at him. “Let’s take advantage of the pools. It would be wonderful to arrive in town refreshed.”

Logan got to his feet. “I’ll put out the fire.”

She uncurled from the blanket and smiled. “Let me get a few things. I want to savor this experience.”

So do
I….

If his goal hadn’t been strictly honorable, Logan might have felt guilty over Victoria’s misplaced confidence, but his only aim today was to forge a bond of intimacy that she’d never experienced with another man. Her virginity would be safe.

His specific goal was to break down her inhibitions with him. Only
him.
He wanted her to understand that the fierce desire riding him also rode her, that they could make a fire hot enough to melt any walls or obstacles that might arise between them. He wanted to awaken her to the passion locked inside her. After experiencing that passionate awakening, she wouldn’t be able to walk away from him, as Robeena had done. He’d learned his lesson from the past. He needed to possess Victoria so completely that there would be no room in her mind, her heart or her body for another man.

As he made that decision, Logan knew he would find no release with Victoria until he made her his wife. For, if he yielded to his own hungers, he would take something he sensed she was incapable of surrendering without a wedding ceremony. He wanted her love, her warmth and her laughter—not guilt, not remorse, not shame.

Soon they would leave these hills, taking a trail that angled downward to the main road leading to town. Tomorrow everything would change between them. She would discover he was her employer. While under the watchful eyes of the good people of Trinity Falls, they would have to display a strictly professional manner toward each other. It was essential that they set a good example for Madison. The girl was extremely impressionable, and in dire need of refinement
if she was to successfully escape her rough upbringing and find a place in polite society, a place that would provide her with a husband and family someday.

“I’m ready.”

Victoria’s voice broke through Logan’s thoughts. She had gathered a couple of towels, a change of clothes and a bar of pink soap, which rested atop the small stack of items.

“Good.” He moved to the edge of the clearing. “We don’t have far to go. It won’t be much of a hike.”

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure she followed. The path was steep, so he reached out and relieved her of the bundle.

“Thank you.”

Her voice was breathless, and her eyes were alive with anticipation. Logan smothered a groan. “Just stay close.”