Jodi Thomas (14 page)

Anna watched as Chance stepped from the shadows. He slowly circled the camp, then slid down beside his saddle. He leaned against it and pulled his hat low without even looking at her. Snuggling into their only blanket, she waited for him to make a move toward her.

As the minutes ticked by, Anna released her grip on the knife and let it fall to the sand. Maybe she wasn’t as afraid of him as he assumed, but she wasn’t going to let her guard down again. He’d stepped beyond the boundaries they’d drawn, and she had to stop him before anything happened, before she felt anything for him.

Finally, Anna closed her eyes and let her fingers touch her lips, remembering how gently his mouth had brushed hers. The feel of his hands moving over her body returned. He’d touched her so lightly, as though he’d been afraid she’d break. For a moment, she hadn’t wanted to pull away. For one second she’d longed to throw her arms around his strong shoulders and melt into him just to see what it was like to touch a man without fear. Many other women her age had known the light touch of a man’s hand, had felt the first gentle kiss. But not Anna. She was four months pregnant and twice married. And tonight was the first time she’d been kissed.

T
he light of dawn slithered between the low clouds, spreading across the earth like a prowler. Chance lifted his hat and watched the thick, humid air turn from black to gray. He stretched soundlessly, uncrossing his legs and straightening his shoulders, every muscle sore from his cramped sleep. The morning was as stormy as his mood, but it would take more than a rain to wash Chance clean of his troubles. The cold bothered him little, but the ache to have Anna cradled in his arms chilled him to the bone.

She lay sleeping, curled like a child in her blanket, only a few feet away. He stood and walked toward his wife, then knelt and studied her as though he’d just discovered a treasure. She was so beautiful when she was asleep, with her face relaxed, her hair slipping free from her thick, auburn braid.

Even in the half-light, he was hypnotized by her lips, now slightly open as she slept. How wonderful her mouth had tasted. She had a power over him whether her eyes were closed in sleep or blazing with fire. What had she said when he’d kissed her? It was wrong. Did she think him so far beneath her that even a kiss would be evil and dirty?

Standing, he looked away, studying the sky as a seaman studies his maps. He had to think of other things besides Anna’s lips. Even the softness of the clouds reminded him of her. The low stormy rumbling to the north, the distant flash of light, the cool morning breeze that caressed his jaw . . . all whispered
Anna
in his mind.

He shivered as though with a sudden chill. “Stop it,” he muttered to himself, shoving his fists deep into his pockets and trying to stop the urge to hold her. He’d given his word to leave in a year, and even if she didn’t think so, he was a man of honor. He knew he’d have to leave her without a good-bye, even if it tore the heart from him to do so. No matter how it hurt, he’d leave her in one year and prove to her that he could be trusted. To hell with the heartache. To hell with caring about anyone. He didn’t need a heart to find Storm’s Edge. Chance would find the Indian who’d murdered his parents and kill or be killed. Once and for all, he’d put his own nightmares to rest.

“Chance,” Anna whispered.

Whirling around, he found her sitting up and her beauty, as always, was like a blow. But he hid his feelings. “What is it, my wife?”

She stood and folded her blanket, her eyes looking to the north. “Will we ride today?”

Chance opened his mouth to answer, but Tobin’s voice came first. “Hell of a dream I had last night.”

They both turned to face the middle-aged man. His face was pale and his eyes were still colored with fever, but his voice was strong. “I reckon we can do some ridin’ today. We should be able to catch the wagons within a day or two.”

Shaking his head, Chance replied, “It looks like rain. Maybe we should stay here protected by the cliffs until the storm blows over.”

Tobin huffed like he was planning a protest. But when he tried to stand, he sank back into his pallet. “Guess you’re right, son.” His breathing was labored. “I wouldn’t want to get the little lady wet.”

Anna smiled at his lie. “I need to change that bandage on your foot whether we ride or not.”

For once there was no argument from Tobin as he looked from Anna to Chance. “I’ve never been much for sayin’ thanks, but I reckon you saved my life.”

“Forget it,” Chance answered. “You’d have done the same.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Tobin leaned his head back. “But I’ll find a way to pay you back someday. Might start by stayin’ around till you get that wife of yours a proper cabin built.”

The memory of Anna’s promise to wear her hair down when they had a cabin flashed in Chance’s mind and he said, “I might just hold you to that offer.”

Tobin lay back on his blankets. “For quite a spell now, I’ve been feelin’ like there’s not much makes life worth livin’, but after walkin’ so near the edge of the world, I realized how much I’d like to stay around.” He fell asleep still mumbling about climbing over a few more mountains.

Anna chuckled at the old man as she helped Chance change the bandage.

Chance looked up at her, but she looked away the moment their eyes met. Lord, how he wished he could say he was sorry for kissing her, but the truth was he wanted to do it again—probably would long to every day for the rest of their year together. But she’d said his touch was wrong and bad. Chance threw a log on the fire and wished he could believe it was because her first husband had just died and not because she found him so repulsive.

Grabbing his saddlebag, he headed off toward the water. “I’m going to clean up,” he mumbled. She wouldn’t have to tell him again to take a bath or shave. He might not be some fine gentleman like she’d probably had court her when she finished boarding school, but he wasn’t the savage she thought he was either.

Almost a week passed before the threesome caught up with the wagons. The afternoon sun was hot and the earth steamed with spring heat as they cleared a ridge and saw the German caravans. Anna was shocked at the sight before her as they neared the band of immigrants. Her people looked like bony shadows following mud-covered coffins. Their clothes were as dirty and ragged as their faces. Chance picked his way between the wagons until he found Carl and Selma Jordan. Anna hardly recognized her only friends among the settlers.

Carl looked up as they neared, his face sunburned and vacant; then, after a long moment, he slowly raised his hand in greeting. “Welcome.” His weak smile barely lifted the corners of his chapped lips.

Sliding from the saddle, Anna hugged Selma. Tears streamed from her eyes as she felt how thin the woman had become in only a few weeks.

With heartfelt tears of gladness, Selma greeted Anna, then Chance. “We thought you were dead. Many died the first few weeks when the rains were so bad.” She couldn’t seem to stop patting Anna’s arm. “But my Carl, he kept telling them you’d be back. He wouldn’t let them throw your chest out of the wagon.”

“Thank you.” Anna closed her eyes as she tried to imagine what she would’ve done if she’d lost her trunk with all she owned inside.

Chance shook Carl’s hand, forming a bond of friendship between the two men that would not easily be broken. “We are in your debt.”

Nodding as if he understood, Carl, as always, said nothing.

Selma had none of her husband’s shyness. She continued mixing German words with English. “Almost all those from our village are gone. Walter Schmitz’s wife died and all the Muller children, except the oldest.” Her eyes were tearless as she spoke, as if no more tears could fall. “So many others. I can’t think of them all.”

Carl lifted his head as if about to dive into deep water. His words were slow and thick with accent. “Some died, some got tired, and stopped along the road. Reverend Muller says we’ll be lucky if a third of those who sailed make New Braunfels.” He placed his arm around his tiny wife. “But we are going to make it to our new home.”

Selma’s voice was weary from hoping. “Yes, but it’s been a hard trip, plus I’m worried about Walter. Since his wife died, he’s been acting like a man possessed. He even traded her clothes for some homemade liquor a few days back when we passed a settlement.”

Carl looked at Chance, and his words were heavy with emotion. “Every man’s got to deal with his grief in his own way. I don’t know what I’d do without my Selma.”

Chance was saved from having to answer by a cry from the front for the wagons to halt. Carl Jordan gave a heavy sigh and squeezed his wife, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. “One day closer to our home.”

She smiled and looked at Anna. “We have sweet potatoes. You’re welcome to share.”

Anna knew from their hollow faces that they must have very few, and she wanted to hug them all over again for being so generous. She raised her eyes to Chance and he read her thoughts with a wink.

“That sounds mighty fine.” Chance pulled Anna’s bag and their bedrolls off his saddle. “But you have to allow us to share also. I saw some deer tracks back a ways and was hoping we’d have someone to share with.”

The smile on Carl’s face was genuine. “That sounds grand. The ammunition has been so low we haven’t had venison for days. And to be honest, I never handled a gun. A hammer fits my grip much better.”

Limping out from behind the horses, Tobin nodded at Carl and tipped his hat to Selma. “Reckon I should go with you, son. Ain’t never took me more than one shot to down a deer.” He bit into the last of his tobacco. “While we’re huntin’ I’ll tell you about the time I downed two bucks with one shot.”

Anna laughed and introduced the strange man to Carl and Selma. With each day of Tobin’s recovery, he’d grown stronger and more outlandish with his stories. She knew he persisted because the tales made her laugh and Chance swear in disbelief. Tobin reminded her of a stray dog that touches your heart with his need—you accept him, fleas and all.

“We’ll set up camp while you’re gone,” Anna said, touching Chance’s arm.

His dark, stormy blue eyes turned toward her. They’d spent the week trying not to touch one another or look in one another’s eyes. The strain was tearing at both of them, and now Anna wanted to start fresh. They were back among her people. The music of the German tongue in the air made her feel as if she’d come home. Surely he would act civilized among the others.

Chance swung atop Cyoty and tipped his hat. With the energy of a morning ride, he and Cyoty vanished into the trees.

Anna knew he’d bring back enough meat to share, and she felt a sudden pride in this wild Texan she’d married. He might be half savage, like the Indians around them, but she always felt somehow protected and provided for when he was near. His silence toward her over the past week had left her nerves on edge. He’d been polite, but never close. They’d ridden double only a few times. His strong arm had been like a brace, nothing more. At night he slept a few feet away, no longer touching her. Anna missed his comforting warmth beside her, but her pride wouldn’t allow her to cross the ground that seemed like a wall between them each night.

Darkness fell across the campsite. Family fires dotted the land around the wagons. Anna and the Jordans chose a spot near the stream, several yards away from the others. With relief, Anna found her trunk and pulled out a fresh dress. She scrubbed her traveling clothes and hung them to dry. Pulling Chance’s extra clothes from his bag, she washed them also, mending them with skill and hoping her small task might prove to be a peace offering. She searched through William’s clothes in the trunk, but all of them were far too small to be altered for Chance. Night was upon them when Anna finally set up her tiny tent beside the Jordans’. She enjoyed the night sky, but it would be pure luxury to change into her nightgown and not have to sleep in her clothes. The privacy of her tent outweighed having the stars for a roof tonight.

Just after dark Chance returned with a deer. Tobin swiftly cleaned it and hung the carcass between two nearby trees, while Chance roasted two small pheasants they’d killed for dinner. They built small fires around the venison to slowly cook the tough meat.

Huddled beside the fire, Anna ate in silence while Tobin spread a horsehair rope around their campsite. Since he’d been bitten, he’d become obsessed with snakes. He’d told Anna that a snake wouldn’t cross a rope, so they’d sleep safely at night inside the circle.

Everyone slowly found their places around the campfires. Anna could see Chance through the trees, brushing Cyoty down. His low voice drifted to her, but she could not make out his words. He talked to the horse as though there were no human company. Exhausted, Anna reluctantly crawled into the tent and slipped on her nightgown. It felt so wonderful to have the fresh cotton against her skin. Her skirt waistband was getting tight and she knew within a few weeks she’d have to let it out. The thought of a baby growing inside her made her smile. Someday she and her child would stand against the world. She’d have someone to love and who’d love her in return. She’d have land of her own and a child. What more could she ask of life?