Jodi Thomas (6 page)

As he held her against him, he hissed into her hair, “Don’t ever point a gun at a man again unless you’re planning to shoot him.”

Anna felt the hot tears welling in her eyes. “I’ll kill you for what you’ve done to me.”

His hands gripped her shoulders with bruising force, and he pushed her away from him and against the cave wall, preventing any attack she might plan. “I’ve done nothing to you. Nothing!” Anger twisted his features and his eyes turned the blue of an icy ocean bottom. “And if I ever do, it will not be when you’re ill, but when you’re out of your head with a fever I’ve stoked.”

Twisting violently, Anna felt his body press harder against her, flattening her breasts against a wall of muscle. The pounding of his heart raged against her own chest. With a sudden jolt she realized it was the same pounding warmth she remembered clinging to when she was so cold.

His warm breath came in gasps against her cheek. “If I ever touch you, it will be because you’ve come willingly to me.”

“Never!” Anna turned her head away. Never would she go willingly to a man. She closed her eyes, fighting back the memory of that night on the ship when William had come to her bed. He’d whispered how sorry he was to have to rape her a second time, then he’d stuffed a handkerchief in her mouth to muffle her cries. The first time he’d been drunk, but on board the ship he’d known what he was doing and he hadn’t cared that he was breaking an oath he’d made to her. The first time, Anna hadn’t wanted to believe any man could be so truly evil, but the second time William had taken her, she’d let shatter any such childish thoughts. Never would a man touch her like that again.

Chance ran his fingers through her hair and pulled her face within an inch of his own. “Never is a long time. Almost as long as a year.”

Her emerald green eyes met his smoky gaze. “If you live that long.”

Chance’s sudden laughter startled her. He eased his body away. “Tell me, did you make death threats to your first husband, or did you just shoot him outright?”

Watching him turn away, Anna debated attacking him, but decided against it; she’d felt his strength when he’d held her pressed against the wall. She forced her breathing to slow and made her fists relax against her sides. “I do not wish to discuss William with you or with anyone else.”

Anna didn’t move as Chance holstered the gun and left it lying between them on the rock. Despite his accusation, he did not seem threatened by her. He moved with ease about the campfire. Slowly, he lifted the blanket she’d been sleeping under and held it out for her.

Anna hesitated, then turned her back. She felt the warm wool surround her from head to toe. Chance’s arms were around her only long enough to secure the blanket in front.

“I’m sorry,” he said from behind her, his words shocking her more than his light touch. “I shouldn’t have said anything about your husband.”

The blanket warmed her flesh, but his words touched her heart. She wanted to scream that she had hated William and that she’d thought of killing him many times, but all she could whisper was, “I don’t want to talk about him.”

Near the fire a cup of water boiled over, drawing Chance’s attention. “Sit down and have some tea while I tell you what’s been happening.” He didn’t look at her as he slipped a knife from a sheath inside his boot and began shaving parts of a twig into the hot water. “When I got back to the wagons, you were running a high fever. Everyone else in the camp had someone to take care of them, but you were just left out in the rain like some orphaned doggie. I don’t think anyone noticed how sick you were, and I’d be willing to bet you didn’t tell anyone.”

Snuggled inside the warm blanket, her knees drawn up to her chest, Anna savored the hot, spicy aroma of the tea.

“I knew you’d be dead within a day or two at the most if I didn’t get you dry, so I found this place, built a fire, and left my blankets to dry while I went back for you. Once I got you here, I started giving you as much of this tea as you’d take. Folks back East call this bush a spicebush, but the Indians call it feverbush and use the bark for tea. It’s not half bad but getting you to drink it sure wasn’t easy, especially that first night. You’re about the stubbornest human I’ve ever met.”

Anna looked up. “How long have we been here?”

“Three days. The wagons moved on yesterday, but they won’t get far ahead of us in this rain. When you seemed to be resting easy, I rounded up as much of this bark as I could find and took it to the others. I don’t know how much good it does, but the Indians swear it gets rid of the demons that cause the blood to heat.”

The water in the cup boiled a second time and Chance shoved it from the fire. “I cooked a rabbit this morning. Do you feel like eating?”

Anna accepted the cup and nodded. “We’ve been alone here for three days?”

Chance looked up and smiled. “Yeah.” A dimple, slightly hidden from view by his whiskers, creased his left cheek. “Don’t look so frightened. I told you that you didn’t have to be afraid of me.”

All he’d told her slowly sank into her still groggy mind. He’d taken care of her for three days. He’d been alone with her in a cave and he hadn’t had his way with her. Pieces of her fever-inspired dream blended with reality. Chance had quite possibly saved her life by carrying her to this warm place. To think that only moments before she had considered shooting him!

“Thank you,” Anna whispered over her cup. It had been so long since anyone had been kind to her that she didn’t know what else to say.

“Wait’ll you taste it,” Chance answered.

“No.” Anna lowered her cup to her lap. “Thank you for helping me. I don’t know of anyone else who would have done what you did for me.”

“Anyone would have helped if they’d seen you in that shape. Did you tell Carl and Selma you were sick?”

Anna shook her head. “They were far back in the group. I hadn’t seen them for days. Most people of our society are kind, but there are those who hate me.” She bit her full bottom lip in an effort to control its quiver. “I should tell you . . .”

“You don’t have to.”

Anna chewed the corner of her lip. “No. I want to. My first husband was twenty years older than me and the wealthiest man in our village. Everyone thought I married him for his money.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him the real reason she’d married William.

She sipped the steaming, bitter liquid without flinching. “When he died, some blamed me for that as well.” A tear ran down her face.

Leaning forward, Chance stopped its progress with the side of his finger. “You must have loved him deeply,” he whispered, more to himself than to her.

Anna’s head shot up, shocked by the amount of caring in Chance’s deep voice. She wanted to shout that she had hated William and that if wishing him dead could have killed him, she would have done so without regret. But Chance was a stranger, someone who’d married her for a hundred dollars and would leave her in a year without a word of farewell. He was not someone with whom she should share her past. Nor was he someone she should grow to depend on. Anna looked away. “I’d like something to eat.”

A few minutes later Chance pulled freshly cooked rabbit meat from the embers. Anna watched him moving about the fire, his lean, hard muscles giving him the grace of an animal of prey. She must be careful or she would reveal too much of herself to this man whose way of life told her he would never put down roots.

They ate in silence, then Chance cleaned the tin plates and mugs by holding them out in a stream of rainwater pouring off the cliff above them. He leaned against the opening and watched the rain for so long that Anna thought he’d forgotten her presence. Certain that he wasn’t paying attention, she pulled her comb from her bag and set to work on her mass of tangles.

Moments later his voice startled her. “Your hair picks up the colors in the fire.”

No answer came to her mind, for his words were more of a statement than a compliment.

After a long silence he tore his gaze from her and stared again at the opening. “It’s hard to tell what time of day it is with this rain.” He pulled a small gold watch without a chain from his pocket. “It’ll be dark in an hour or so.”

He walked back and sat on a log beside her. “Anna, I’ve been thinking. We’re going to be together for a year, so maybe we ought to get a few things out in the open between us.”

Drawing the comb through her hair, Anna looked at him, waiting.

“When I woke up, I didn’t much like having a gun pointed at my gut.”

A smile touched Anna’s lips. “I’m glad I didn’t shoot you.”

“Thanks.”

“It might have brought this cave down on me.” Anna couldn’t suppress a smile. The strange tea made her feel light-headed.

One dark eyebrow rose and Chance looked unsure for a moment, then realized she was joking. His laughter was rich and low, reminding her of the way her father had laughed when she was a child.

“I’ve told you not to be afraid of me, but I guess that trust will have to come in time. Until then we’ve got to live together and try not to scare each other to death.”

Anna laid her comb aside and began twisting her hair into one long braid as he continued.

“My mother died eight years ago and since then I haven’t lived around many women. I meant you no disrespect when I looked at you the other morning in the tent. It will just take some getting used to, seeing a woman in all those things you wear.”

She didn’t know whether to believe him or not, but the thought of the way he’d looked at her that first morning sent fire to her cheeks.

“Maybe if I could start treating you like a sister, you could stop looking at me like I was fixing to murder you in your sleep every time I get within ten feet.”

The depth in his honest eyes made Anna want to trust him, and she liked his laughter and the way he moved with such self-assurance. “Some men say one thing and do another.” Her words sounded bitter even to her.

For several breaths neither spoke. Finally, Chance snapped a stick he’d been using to poke at the fire. The twigs flashed as he tossed them into the flames, making the cave brighter for a moment as Anna watched him turn to face her. Without taking his eyes from her face, he knelt beside her and touched her shoulders gently. “I give you my word. In this country all you really have to count on is a man’s word.”

“Brother and sister?”

Along sigh escaped his lips. The feel of his warm breath against her cheek frightened and excited her, and she fought the urge to pull away. This cave had been their home for three days and he hadn’t tried anything. Perhaps he was worth trusting?

“I’ll try,” she whispered, and was relieved when he patted her shoulder and backed away.

“I’ll get some more wood before dark. The rain looks like it’s slacking up.” As he pulled on his coat, he seemed in a hurry to be out of the little space.

The night swallowed him as though the blue-gray rain was a curtain across the front of the cave. Curling deeper into the blankets, she watched the fire dance along the walls. An hour, maybe more, passed. When Chance returned, his arms were full of wood. After he spread the twigs and branches over the rocks to dry, he banked the fire for the night. He fed Cyoty a handful of grass, and Anna thought she could hear him softly talking to the animal.

Closing her eyes as he neared, Anna listened as he pulled off his coat and boots, hearing the jingle of his spurs as he set them aside. One eye crept open just wide enough to watch him pull off his vest and damp shirt. His back was ribboned with smooth muscles that glistened in the firelight, and his wide shoulders tapered to a slim waist. A deep four-inch scar between his shoulder blades marred the perfection of his body, and Anna felt a strange anger at whatever had caused such an ugly brand on his back. As he turned toward her, she quickly closed her eyes again. A moment later, he lay down behind her, not touching her, but she could hear his breathing only inches away and feel the warmth of him so near.

As his breathing slowed he twisted and pulled the blanket over her shoulder, then brushed her hair lightly with his cheek. “Good night, Anna,” he whispered, then relaxed beside her when she didn’t answer.

The tight muscles along Anna’s spine slowly relaxed. He’d held to his word and she felt safe for the time being, but she’d seen a promise in his indigo eyes when they’d fought over the gun. It was a promise that he might not always keep his distance—a promise that frightened her and warned her she must never let down her guard. But for now this Texan was the only person she’d been able to count on in this strange land. Perhaps he would prove to be the one man she could trust.

Long after Anna’s breathing grew regular, Chance lay wide awake beside her. When he was certain she was asleep, he turned and gently pulled her against him. He loved holding her in his arms. He liked the way her body molded so perfectly to his. He loved the smell of her hair and the silky way it brushed his cheek.