Jodi Thomas (11 page)

Leaning back against the tree, Chance tried to sleep, but the memory of Anna’s lips brushing his cheek reverberated through every nerve of his body. Finally, she’d started to trust him; she’d even lain next to him without fear. What would she do if she knew his thoughts? He’d enjoyed the feel of her legs resting across his thigh, her breasts pushing against his ribs, her warm breath brushing the sensitive hollow of his throat as she’d slept. She would probably hate him if she knew.

Very slowly, Chance unbuckled his gun belt and placed it on the other side of Anna. He smiled, remembering how her green eyes had turned fiery when she’d pointed his own gun at him and he’d shown no fear. She’d been surprised, which told him how little she knew about guns. The first chamber always had a dollar bill stuffed into it when a man was traveling. His Patterson Colt might be a fine weapon, but he wouldn’t trust it if the first chamber were loaded. The unpredictable black powder might go off and shoot a fellow in the leg. But he would let her think he was brave for a while longer.

Sliding down beside Anna, his face only a few inches from hers, Chance brushed a strand of auburn hair from her cheek and marveled again at how beautiful she was. She looked like a china doll, her dark lashes brushing against creamy skin. Slowly, he pulled his blanket over them both and gently lifted her head so it rested on his shoulder.

She snuggled closer to his warmth.

Moving his hand across the distance between them, he touched her waist and, cursing himself inwardly, pulled her nearer. She complied with the urging of his fingers by rolling closer. Now he could feel her breasts pressed against his side and one of her legs lay over his.
Dear God,
he thought,
she feels like a small piece of heaven dropped to earth.
In all his life he had never dreamed a woman could feel so good. He let his fingers fan out along her waist; she was so fragile, so soft.

He couldn’t stop himself from closing the inch between them and brushing his lips against her cheek. She smelled and tasted like spring dew. He knew she was stubborn and proud, but she was as soft as a miracle in his arms while she slept, and for the first time in his life Chance wished he was better than he was. She’d want a husband who knew the world, who could read better than a few words at a time. She deserved a man who knew the right things to say and who knew how to make love to her.

These thoughts sobered Chance and he leaned back to stare up at the trees. Even if Anna did ever treat him like something other than a brother, he wouldn’t know what to do. She’d been married; she knew how to make love. The closest he’d ever gotten was once in Houston a few years ago. A barmaid had offered to spread her legs for him for free. Chance had followed her up to her little room and watched while she slipped off her underwear and pulled her skirt up to her waist. Then she’d laid there on the soiled sheets laughing at his hesitation.

Closing his eyes, Chance remembered how all he’d been able to do was stand there and stare at her blackened feet and dirty legs. He could still hear her laughter in his mind and smell the sour odors of whiskey and urine in her tiny room.

After that, he’d stayed out with the cattle when the other men went into town. It usually meant spending extra money, and the board due each year for his little sister was always in the back of his mind.

He sent Maggie every extra cent he could save, knowing that a little girl needs a few frills in her life. When he’d given his boss the hundred dollars to mail in Galveston, Chance had felt the security of being over a year ahead on her bill. Maggie was the only person in the world who had meant anything to him until now.

But Anna had touched him the moment he’d seen her, and her nearness was giving him thoughts that no man should have for a woman he’d said he thought of as his sister.

The morning wind rustled through the trees and Chance relaxed. He didn’t want to think of Maggie, or of Storm’s Edge, the Indian who’d led the raid on his parents’ home. He only wanted to sleep next to Anna and let her dreams slip into him. In all the years he’d been alone, he’d never dreamed of finding happiness . . . and he knew that this moment might be as close as he ever got.

C
hance rolled over Anna and grabbed his gun. In the time it took the sound of a twig’s snap to reach his ears, he’d twisted the chamber and was ready to fire, fully aware of the murmur of movement in the trees. Anna squirmed sleepily, trying to escape his sudden weight.

“Quiet!” he whispered an inch from her ear.

He felt the pounding of her heart beneath him, but she stopped shoving and turned to see what lay in the direction of his pointed gun. Their pulses seemed to beat as one as the moments passed, and both watched the movement in the brush as it grew nearer.

“Mornin’, folks,” Tobin yelled as he came through the tress in front of them. Two limp rabbits hung from his belt and his hands were full of roots. “Glad to see you two are finally awake.”

Slowly Chance rolled out of Anna’s way and holstered his gun. “You’re up early, Taylor.”

“Yup.” Grinning like an old maid with her first offer, Tobin added, “Guess I don’t have as much to keep me in bed as you do, son.”

Chance sat up and blocked Tobin’s view of Anna, resenting the other man looking at her with her hair falling all around her like a cloud and her eyes brushed with sleep. This new protectiveness made Chance uneasy. He could think of no time in his life when he’d had more than a saddle and his horse to safeguard.

Tobin didn’t seem to notice Chance’s silence as he knelt in the clearing and continued to talk. “I think we’re safe enough now to build a fire and roast a few rabbits. If the Indians are close enough to see the smoke, they probably can smell us whether we light a fire or not. Besides, it seems they dropped off our trail a long piece back.”

After a glance at Anna, Chance stood and helped gather wood. As the fire warmed, he skinned one of the animals and staked it near the fire. Tobin did the same with his portion, then shoved the roots into the coals to bake.

When Anna joined them, Tobin grinned. “Your husband tells me you two are bound for the settlement at New Braunfels and then on north to set up another town. I’ve been near there and anything north would be smack in the middle of Comanche hunting grounds. Those Indians ain’t like the Delawares; they’ll skin you alive before you can get a cabin up. Why, I’ve seen whole towns wiped out faster than it takes a bull snake to swallow a field mouse. A few German settlers won’t even be a full meal for those devils.”

Chance was watching Anna, and he could see Tobin’s words were upsetting her, so he kept his voice calm. “Maybe, maybe not. All we have to do is convince the Comanches that these people are another tribe of white men. They already hate the Texans and the Mexicans, but maybe they’d give another group a chance.”

Laughter rumbled out of Tobin as easily as a coin from a fool’s pocket. “You gonna ride up the Llano River and tell them bloodthirsty braves to hold off and give a bunch of farmers a chance?”

“I might,” Chance answered as he turned the meat. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone else applying for the job.”

Tobin shook his head, and the boastful streak Chance had been counting on showed itself. “Why, son, I’m the only man who could pull somethin’ like that off and I’m not crazy enough to try it.”

Forcing his voice to sound matter-of-fact, Chance added, “And how would you do it?”

Taking the question as a formal invitation, Tobin began a long lecture, detailing all the things he might do if he were foolish enough to try such a thing. The advice continued all the way through the meal, and most of it was thrown out along with the bones and the root skins.

As the fire burned low, Tobin leaned up against a tree and began filling his pipe as though preparing for a long visit, but Chance slung his saddlebag over his shoulder and followed Anna to the stream to escape.

In the shadows, they washed up together. At first she seemed nervous at his presence, but he didn’t want to leave her alone for long and she made no objection. They would have to get used to each other’s closeness, for they could hardly spend a year avoiding one another. Without a word between them, Chance stripped off his shirt and started to shave.

The razor he’d sharpened in the pool only a month ago would never last the year at this rate. He’d bought the worn leather kit from an old-timer a few years back. The old man had sworn he’d never shave again and Chance used it only once a month as his beard was so heavy it seemed to grow back by the time he got the soap washed off. But the old razor was better than using a knife, and if Anna wanted him to shave, he figured he’d give it a try.

Watching her comb her hair made Chance long to reach over and touch the free strands before she braided them.

“Ow!” Chance yelled suddenly as the razor nicked his chin.

“Are you hurt?”

“Hell, yes,” Chance yelled. He reddened at his use of such harsh language. “Guess I’m not used to shaving so often,” he grumbled.

Laughing, Anna offered to help, but Chance backed away. Watching her had gotten him this pain in the first place, and having her worry over him would only make him feel worse. He’d doctored a lot worse injuries than a tiny shaving cut.

As he backed away, Anna cocked her head sideways and rested her fists upon her hips. “Well, it seems to me if you’d pay less attention to watching me and more to what you’re doing, you would be less apt to cut yourself.”

Smiling at her teasing, Chance answered honestly, “You’re right, but my face will probably be a mass of scars before I get used to seeing you comb that hair of yours.” He turned toward her, the towel held at his chin. “I’ve never seen hair that color.”

Anna looked down at the stream. “Muddy, my mother used to call it. Muddy, muddy, ugly hair.”

“No.” How could anyone have insulted such a color? He remembered when he’d first seen her hair in the morning light. “Your hair reminds me of the rich river-bottom soil. It’s warm and shiny at the same time. I wish you’d wear it down.”

Blushing at his compliment, she met his serious eyes. “It would be scandalous for a married woman to wear her hair free.”

“Still, I like to see it falling down your back.” He checked to make sure his chin had stopped bleeding.

“Tell you what.” Carefully, Anna inspected the damage the razor had done with her finger lightly on his chin. “You try not to get all sliced up, and I’ll wear my hair down when we’re alone in our house.”

“Agreed.” Chance wished he could lay the first logs today.

Tobin’s whistle shattered the calm air. “Come on, folks. If we’re going to reach the wagons by nightfall, we’ve got some riding to do.”

Feeling suddenly lighthearted, Chance reached for Anna’s hand and she gave it willingly as they walked back to the clearing, both smiling.

Tobin looked at them skeptically. “Too much washin’ ain’t healthy, you know, ma’am,” he said. “I take a bath every spring and I’ve never been sick in my life.”

Laughing, Anna rolled up the bedrolls as the men saddled up. A good feeling welled up inside her, as if her life had finally taken a turn for the better. She watched as Tobin took the horses down to the stream for water while Chance doused the fire and covered it with dirt until there were no signs in the clearing that they’d passed.

The quiet peace of the morning was shattered suddenly by Tobin’s angry voice. He yelled like he’d been wounded, then took only enough time to suck in his breath before letting out a continuous string of curse words.

Chance lifted his rifle and ran toward the stream with Anna only a step behind. They reached the horses and found Tobin hopping around on one leg in a crazy dance of pain, his language keeping pace with each step.

“What is it?” Chance yelled.

With pain-filled eyes Tobin looked from Chance to Anna and closed his mouth, biting back pain-induced profanities. Plopping down on the ground, he waved his foot in the air like a signal flag. “Durned snakes bit me in the ankle. I can’t believe I didn’t see them. I must have stepped right on the sons of Satan’s nest.”

Using the butt of his rifle, Chance cleared the brush away and dropped to his knees beside Tobin. “Settle down. You’re not doing yourself any good dancing around stirring up your blood.”

“I know it, but I’m so mad at myself I could bite them little snakes’ heads off. I deserve to die for being so stupid. Any toddlin’ papoose would know better.”

Chance handed his rifle to Anna and pulled Tobin to his feet. “I’ll get Tobin back to the clearing; can you handle the horses?”

Anna nodded. “What else?” She admired how calm Chance seemed, since judging from the white lines around Tobin’s mouth there was much to be concerned about.

“We’ll need a fire. Boil water in every cup we have.” Chance lifted Tobin and started back to camp. “And, Anna, watch out for any more snakes. Tobin probably scared them all off with his yelling, but keep the gun butt ready just in case.”