HisBootsUnderHerBed (11 page)

Once again his mouth widened in a grin, and Rory couldn’t help thinking how much younger it made him look.

“That’s a story in itself. Then there’s Colt, who’s twenty-six now, two years younger than me. Understand he married a Yankee on his way out here, too. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her yet, but I’m sure eager to. Jedediah is the next one; he’d be twenty-five now. Last I heard, he was still at home. Then there was Andy. He was twenty-two when he was killed at Gettysburg. Last is Lissy, our only sister. Dad and Mom swore to keep having children until they got a girl.”

He shook his head. “What a handful! She wrapped all of us around her little finger. We all adored her and spoiled her rotten. From the time she budded out, we all guarded her like soldiers. Wouldn’t let any local boys near her. And what did she do? While we were off fighting the war, the little minx fell in love with a Yankee soldier who had been quartered at Fraser Keep, and they eloped as soon as the war ended. Clay and I chased after her to bring her back, and that’s how we ended up in California.”

“And did you catch up with her?”

“Finally.” The welcome warmth had returned to his eyes. “But that, too, is another story.”

“So now you’re all here in California, except your brother Will—”

“And Jed. He always fancied the sea. If the Confederacy had had a navy, Jed probably would be an admiral by now. As for Will, I suspect nothing will ever get him out of Virginia.”

“And you intend to go back one day yourself.”

“Probably, when I’ve done and seen all I want to. I don’t tie myself down to any permanent plans.”

“I envy you; it must be wonderful to grow up with brothers and sisters. War, death, or no matter what follows can never erase those memories.”

“Yeah, looking back, those were great times.”

“What did you do before the war?”

“It was kind of traditional for a young man to spend some time in the military. Clay went to West Point. He ended up fighting half of his classmates during the war. Colt and I preferred the Virginia Military Academy, so we went there together. We’re pretty much alike.”

“In what way?” Rory asked.

“Kiss and run, if you know what I mean. No commitments. We went to Europe together to see the world, but never got farther than Paris when Virginia seceded and we had to change our plans. Now that he’s married, I guess we’ll never make the Grand Tour together. I can’t believe that bounder up and married on me.”

“Which now makes
you
the remaining bounder.”

He sat up with a good-natured grin. “Enough about me. Tell me about your life.”

“There’s not much to tell. My folks were born in Ireland and arrived in California right before I was born. I can barely remember what it was like to live in a house; a canvas tent was usually what I called ‘home.’ We moved around from one gold-mining town to another until my mother died when I was eight. A few years later, Pop gave up gold mining for cardplaying.” She glanced up at him with a sardonic smile. “Unfortunately he never gave up whiskey.”

“Why didn’t you leave him when you were old enough, Rory?”

She looked at him, astonished. “Why would I do that? I love him, Garth. He’s my father. And besides, before she died, I promised my mom I’d take care of him.”

“Paddy O’Grady is a likable old rascal, honey, but he can’t offer you the kind of love you deserve.”

“How can you say that, Garth? I know he loves me. So he has a weakness for drinking. I certainly wish he didn’t, but it doesn’t make me love him less.”

“He has more than one weakness, Rory. He’s content to be a dreamer and drifter without any consideration for the two women who loved him—his wife and daughter. He was content to let you come here where there are all sorts of ways for you to be harmed, for the sake of finding gold—the same thing he failed to accomplish when his wife was still alive.”

“I had the impression you understood what family means,” she declared indignantly. “Would you love your parents or siblings any less if one of them had a drinking problem, Garth? Or maybe a gambling one? Or, God forbid, if they hadn’t fought to defend your precious Virginia?

“I saw how much Mum loved Pop; and how much he loved her. How can you presume to pass judgment on their relationship any more than you can on his relationship with me? Right now, whiskey and consumption have a hold on him. But I would never give up on him because he has a weakness for whiskey, any more than I would because he’s ill.”

She turned her back to him in disgust. “I suppose you see that as just another one of
my
weaknesses.”

Garth spun her back to face him. “Then consider what would happen to him if you weren’t around. Who will he have to take care of him if you’re harmed or killed? Can’t you see, Rory, how he’s depending on your strength and not his own?”

“Not any more than I’ve depended on his in the past. Regardless, it’s not your problem.”

“It’s become my problem, because I’m worried what will happen to you.” Tears glistened in her eyes and he pulled her into his arms. “Ah, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He gently brushed aside a tear rolling down her cheek, then pressed a light kiss to her lips. “I’m sorry, baby. So sorry.”

He had intended the kiss to be consoling, not sensual, but his body reacted to it with a surge of hot passion that clouded his brain. He deepened the kiss.

T
he instant Garth’s lips touched hers, sensation exploded through her with a power that she couldn’t control. Instinctively her body arched to his and she slipped her arms around his neck, parting her lips in a moan of pleasure.

He pressed her to the ground and his fingers freed the buttons of her shirt. When the heat of his palm cupped her breast through the thin fabric of her chemise, her body responded to it with a surge of hot passion that clouded her brain.

She knew it was a repeat of the previous day—just as she knew coming here alone with him would be. And she’d been so wrong in believing she’d been prepared to resist him this time.

Men who had tried to grope her or force a kiss on her had only angered and disgusted her, but that wasn’t the case when Garth did; the passion enveloping her now was just the opposite as his mouth consumed her in another kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth with erotic strokes, and she moaned again when he shifted his mouth to her breast.

She gasped in sweet agony when he closed around the nipple with a moist warmth. Within seconds, the thin fabric became too much of a barrier. She ached for the touch of his mouth on her flesh. To feel his hands, his mouth, the length of his hard body on hers—flesh against flesh.

As she groped for his shirt buttons he raised up and she stared, stunned, and dropped her hands.

“Garth, something’s wrong. Look at Saddle.”

He turned his head and saw what had disturbed her: the dog was standing stiff-legged with his ears perked, staring at a nearby copse of trees.

“No,” he moaned pitifully. “Not again!”

“Don’t say anything. Just sit up and button your shirt,” he whispered. Then he rose to his feet and said loudly, “You ready to leave, honey? I think it’s time we get back to the mine.”

She couldn’t have said anything if she wanted to; her throat was too dry to speak. So she did what he told her to.

Garth walked casually over to the fire. He poured the remaining coffee and grounds over the ashes, and rather than take the time to wash the dishes and frying pan, he slipped them into the saddlebags. Then he got the fish from the stream and wrapped them up in a couple of large leaves and put them in a saddlebag.

Rory found it amazing how he managed to sound so casual and not even glance in the direction of the trees as he kicked dirt over the remaining ashes. When he was satisfied they were completely out, he mounted Boots and hoisted her up. The he whistled for Saddle as they rode away.

After a short distance, he reined up behind the concealment of a boulder. “Do you think you can handle Boots well enough to ride back to your mine alone? I’ll send Saddle with you. He knows the trail.”

“I’m not going without you, Garth. If you’re planning to go back there to check out those trees, I’m going with you. Besides, it could have been just a rabbit or squirrel.”

“If that were so, Saddle would have gone after it. Whatever was in those trees was big enough to spook him.”

“Maybe a bear? That fish would attract one.”

“That’s a good point, but I haven’t seen a bear track since I’ve been here.”

“That doesn’t mean there’s none around, Davy Crockett.”

Last night Garth had thought he’d glimpsed a shadow of something or someone stalking her camp. If this incident was related, there was no sense in alarming her until he had some positive evidence.

“I went through four years of war, and I could always sniff out Yankee scouts and patrols when they were around.”

“So you think it could be a Yankee scout or patrol?” she asked, tongue-in-cheek.

Rory wasn’t taking the situation as seriously as she should have. “You’re beginning to irritate me, Rory.”

“And you could sniff them out, you say,” she said. “Must have a bit of a dog in you, Captain Fraser.”

He had too much on his mind to appreciate her humor. “I hate to sound ungallant, Miss O’Grady, but it wasn’t more than a short time ago that you appeared to be very eager to have a ‘bit of a dog’ in you.”

That wiped the smile from her face. “You surprise me, Captain Fraser; that
was
ungallant, even in jest.”

“You’re right, I apologize. Guess I’m just a sore loser. We’ll have to try it again sometime.”

“Over my dead body,” she declared. “And no matter what you say, if you’re going back there, I’m going with you.”

“Then don’t utter another word, and do exactly what I tell you to do.”

She nodded.

Upon returning to the stream, he dismounted and handed her the reins. “Don’t get down, and don’t fire this unless it’s absolutely necessary.” He handed her his Colt. Then he pulled his rifle out of the sling. “If there’s any trouble, get out of here as fast as you can.”

Everything appeared to be exactly as they had left it. Even the spear lay where he had dropped it. The dead ashes had not been disturbed, and there were no prints other than their own at the riverbank.

Perhaps Rory was right. It was probably nothing more than a small wood creature. He went into the copse of trees to investigate, only to return within minutes. “Okay, let’s get out of here.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Rory asked, handing the pistol back to him. She shifted out of the saddle to make room for him.

“I’m not sure.” Garth returned the rifle to the sling and the Colt to the holster on his hip. Then he mounted Boots.

She clasped her arms around his waist and leaned her cheek against his back. “So what did you discover: a pile of rabbit turds, or the hole where a squirrel buried nuts for the winter?”

He could see it was going to be a long ride back; she wasn’t going to let the matter drop. But since she was in such good spirits now, nothing would be gained by alarming her at the moment.

“If you don’t stop making fun of Saddle’s attempts to guard us, you’re going to hurt his feelings,” Garth warned in a light tone.

“I wouldn’t want to do that, now would I, fella?” she told the dog trotting beside them. “And even if you can’t bark, I’d rather have you as a watchdog than any other.” Then she poked Garth in the ribs. “Well, maybe other than that ‘bit of the dog’ in your master, Saddle. That one has a powerful bark, but it’s not as cute as you.”

“There you go insulting his manhood again, Miz O’Grady. Who calls a dog as big and shaggy as Saddle ‘cute’?”

“So what would you call him?”

“I guess ‘manly.’Yeah, a man’s dog, so to speak.”

“Don’t you mean a dog’s dog?”

He cocked a brow. “Guess you could say that if the other dog was female.”

“I think you have a dirty mind, Garth.”

“So why don’t we put my dirty mind to good use and pick up where we left off when we were so rudely interrupted?”

“Don’t you wish, Fraser.” She slipped off the rear of Boots and ran ahead and began to pick a bouquet of yellow and red poppies.

Garth didn’t try to stop her. He dismounted, and, leading Boots by the reins, he walked slowly along, casting an occasional glance behind him.

As long as she remained in his view, it gave him time to think. He’d discovered part of a print that appeared to have been made by a boot heel, but it was too muddy to tell for certain.

A grim line had replaced Paddy’s Irish grin, and a glower the puckish twinkle in his eyes when they returned to camp.

“Good morning, Paddy,” Garth said.

Ignoring Garth’s greeting, Paddy scowled at Rory. “You had me worried again, daughter. Where have you been?”

“Garth and I went for a morning ride, Pop.”

Paddy spun and turned the full measure of his irritation on Garth. “A morning ride, is it? And I’m thinking it’s not riding the horse you had in mind, Mr. Fraser.”

Rory gasped. “Pop, that remark is disgraceful! We had breakfast.”

“And where would that be, daughter? At the queen’s palace or the fancy restaurant down the road?”

She put her hands on her hips. Rebelliousness flashed in those baby-blue eyes of hers and the return of the brogue on her tongue.

“Garth was knowing of a stream of fish. And need I be reminding you, Mr. Paddy O’Grady, that I be twenty-four years of age? And daughter or not, what I do is me business alone and none of your own.”

Paddy turned to Garth again. “What you’re up to
is
me business.”

Garth snorted. “You O’Gradys are a real pair! Your daughter has repeatedly informed me that
your
business is none of
mine
; now you tell me that what
I do
is
your
business. Need I remind you, sir, that if my map had not been stolen, the three of us wouldn’t be here together at all.”

“You’re not fooling me, Garth Fraser. Coming around here with your fancy ways, sniffing at me daughter’s skirt the way you’ve been doing.”

“Frankly, sir, I’m unaware your daughter has a skirt. She’s been wearing those jeans for the past week. And since she’s a grown woman, what she and I do is
our
business and not
yours
.”

He went over to Boots and retrieved the fish, then handed them to Paddy. “Enjoy your breakfast, sir.”

Paddy looked abashed, but still stubborn. “Well, it naught can be said that Paddy O’Grady is one to ignore a man’s generosity, so I’m thanking you for it.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now I’ll be thanking you to be on your way, Mr. Fraser. We have no need of you here.”

“And I’ll believe that when I hear it from your daughter, sir.” Garth tipped his hat to Rory. “Thank you for a most pleasant morning, Rory.”

“I’m sorry, Garth.”

“Don’t give it a thought.”

He mounted Boots and rode away.

As Garth rode along, his anger rose with every clop of Boots’s hooves. He’d had it with the thievery, lies, blushing so-called virgins, and drunken old men. He was through playing their games. Paddy could stay here and rot, as far as he was concerned. And Rory with him, if she didn’t have the gumption to make a stand.

Tomorrow he’d offer to help them back to the mission as he said he would, but if Paddy refused to go, he’d wash his hands of them once and for all.

He wheeled Boots to ride back to tell them.

As soon as Garth rode away, Paddy handed the fish to Rory, then went back to his bedroll with a fit of violent coughing. Her eyes misted as she built a fire. How could her father have embarrassed her the way he did? She knew it was the whiskey talking, and when it wore off he’d be his usual lovable self. But never before had he spewed such nastiness. She feared the coughing, the lack of eating, and the whiskey had begun to work on his nerves, to change him. She had to get him out of here.

As she prepared the fish, Rory thought about how wonderful the morning with Garth had been, and those incredible moments in his arms again.

Still, it frightened her to think how close she had come once again to surrendering her virginity. It had always been so easy to reject other men’s advances, but Garth’s kiss and touch made her forget her vow to remain chaste. It was as if she had no will of her own. Just being with him made her happy to be alive. And despite how dangerous his kiss or touch was, she couldn’t wait for the next one.

She sighed. He thinks I’m nothing better than a lying tramp, so why try to convince him it isn’t true, she pondered wistfully.

Paddy got to his feet and started to stagger away.

“Where are you going, Pop? Your fish is ready.”

“I’m not hungry, darlin’.”

“But Pop, it’s fresh fish. And it’s delicious.”

“I’ll not be eating a bite from the likes of that man. I want none of his charity.”

“That’s nonsense, Pop. Garth is a good man.”

“Good indeed! What did you have to give him for it? You think I don’t know what the two of you are up to when you go off in the woods? I’ll not be filling me belly with any food me daughter’s earned on her back.”

Rory was too stunned to respond. She couldn’t believe her father would make such an accusation. Over the pain of his words, she struggled with logic. “That’s the whiskey in you talking, Pop. I can smell it on your breath.”

“Whiskey, is it?” Paddy lashed out. “I’m thanking God I have whiskey to ease the shame of this.”

“If that’s what you believe, maybe we should pack up and leave here right now.”

“Your fine Mr. Fraser would like that, wouldn’t he? Then he could be stealing the gold that belongs to us. Well, I can’t stop you from letting him have his way with you, but it’s not gonna drive me away.”

“Oh, Pop, we can’t go on like this. Don’t you see what’s happening to us? This mountain is driving us apart. You’re ill, not eating, and you’re drinking too heavily. The whiskey is affecting your thinking.”

“The only thing affecting me thinking is the thought of what is happening to me own daughter.”

Rory’s heart wrenched at the look of anguish in his eyes. “Ah, darlin’,” he said tenderly in a sudden shift of moods, “hasn’t your Pop always looked after you? I love you, and nothing on God’s green earth will ever change that.”

Normally he was not one to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations, but Garth couldn’t help overhearing the argument between Rory and her father.

Paddy’s accusations to Rory were hateful. He was being stubborn and selfish, treating her like chattel rather than the loving and loyal daughter she was. And if anyone was corrupting Rory, it was Paddy himself in attempting to keep her under his thumb.

Rory was a kind, generous, and compassionate woman. She had a good sense of humor, and was loyal to a fault—which was the hold on her that Paddy abused so badly.

She was spunky and had the grit to back up her intrepid qualities, yet there was a vulnerability about her that made him want to protect her.

And the icing on the cake was her beauty and sensuousness. She’d make some lucky man a wonderful wife someday, if she only got out from under the disturbing influence of her father. The last person she deserved a tongue lashing from was Paddy O’Grady.

He figured Rory had had enough embarrassment for one day, so he left silently.