Orchids in Moonlight (21 page)

"Are you mad at me for holding us up?" she asked finally. "I've told you over and over I'm sorry, and you know I didn't do it on purpose."

"Nobody said you did."

"Well, you act as if it's all my fault."

"No, it's not your fault. It's mine, for bringing you along. If I'd taken you back to Salt Lake, you wouldn't have damn near got yourself raped, scalped, and killed, and you wouldn't have almost died from a snakebite.

"I'm the one to blame," he concluded flatly. "Not you."

Indignant, Jaime retorted, "Well, who's to say it wouldn't have happened anyway? Probably I would have got me a horse and set out on my own, because I don't think you realize even yet just how determined I am to get there."

He looked at her then, his face purposely void of emotion. "Well, the fact is, that's your business, and if I'd been smart, I'd have seen it stayed that way instead of letting you talk me into changing my mind."

"It hasn't been all bad," she reminded him tightly.

Cord held back a frustrated sigh. He did not want to hurt her, but his mind was made up to steer clear of intimate talk. "I guess we had our moments," he said, as though it didn't matter very much.

Jaime pressed on. "What would you have done if I had died?"

"Buried you and kept on going."

"Is that all?"

His eyes were dark and inscrutable. "What would you expect me to do?"

Attempting to lighten the mood, she said, "Oh, you could say a few prayers—"

"I'm not a praying man."

She stamped her uninjured foot and scolded lightly, "But you could do it for me, couldn't you? I mean, I am a little special, aren't I? And you
would
miss me."

She went on, seeing how he held back a smile. "After all, it's still a ways to California and all those women you've got waiting for you out there. Who's going to keep you warm at night?"

He saw how she pretended to frown, her finely drawn brows wrinkling over the bridge of her saucily tilted nose. They'd had their moments, all right, and not altogether in bed. They had laughed together, played together, and had some good times. She had made what would otherwise have been a lonely time an enjoyable experience. And now he found himself wishing he could join in her little game, grab her and wrestle her to the ground, tickle her into a fit of giggles till she screamed for mercy. Eventually, passion would ignite, as always, and they'd wind up naked in each other's arms.

He could not resist teasing. "Who says I need anybody? I could use your buffalo coat. You don't think I'd bury it with you, do you?"

"You're disgusting." She wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue.

Cord threw back his head and laughed, daring to hope the tension was over for the time being.

But he was prematurely optimistic, because Jaime suddenly asked, "What happens when we get to California?"

He hadn't expected such directness. "Well, I guess you go look for your father. That's why you're going there."

With a dogged shake of her head, Jaime pressed on. "That's not what I mean, and you know it. I want to know if we'll see each other there. I need your friendship. I need
you,"
she emphasized boldly.

How in hell, Cord fiercely asked himself, could he be honest and tell her it could never be? No matter how bad it hurt both of them, he knew he was doing her a kindness to return to his own kind of woman, who accepted him for what he was with no thought or dream of a forever kind of love.

He drew a ragged breath, hoping the words would come out right. "I can't make plans. I may have to head back east. Maybe go by boat instead of waiting till the spring thaw," he lied.

Jaime felt a sinking sensation. Had she only imagined he was starting to care for her, all those times they had clung together so tenderly? Had she actually meant nothing more than the heat of the moment?

She watched with heavy heart as he got up and walked away. She had been leading up to asking for his help and confiding everything but realized with a sickening lurch that maybe she had been thinking with her heart and not her head. He was still holding a part of himself back, and therefore so should she.

During the day, he stayed busy hunting and fishing. He dried venison and trout for jerky, which would be welcome in the coming weeks. Jaime moved about as much as her ankle would allow, trying to regain her strength.

"If you'd been bit in the spring, you probably wouldn't have made it," he terrified her by explaining. "That snake hadn't been hibernating long, so his venom wasn't quite as potent after using it to paralyze prey all summer. In the spring, they're always more potent."

He told her he had once been bitten in Texas and showed her the scar on the back of his calf. "I know what you went through. I was only fourteen or fifteen, but I remember feeling like my whole leg was on fire."

She shuddered to see the faint mark, identical to the one on her ankle, where a knife had cut him open for drawing out the poison. "Well, it doesn't show. But what happened here?" They were standing close together, and she gingerly touched the scar on his cheek.

Cord drew back as though she had slapped him, eyes clouded with painful memories. "Don't."

He turned away.

Jaime was right behind him to apologize. "Wait, I didn't mean to pry. I was just curious."

He kept on going.

She stared after him in frustration, once more thinking how many shadows there were in Cord Austin's yesterdays. Only when she knew what they were could she ever hope to understand him.

That night, she sought his passion but had to be satisfied with a good-night kiss as he said "You need your strength for traveling" and turned his back.

She called on her pride to keep from crying with disappointment. If he did not want her, damned if she would beg.

But Jaime did not know his own desire for her was nagging like a toothache.

* * *

They set out again, and one morning she awoke to hear his soft curses at the sight of snow glinting on the high Sierra peaks above them. "There's a down-slope a day ahead, where we've got to ford the river, and then we'll be heading to the highest and most difficult point, Truckee Pass. It's the last major barrier between us and the Sacramento Valley, and we have to cross it before snows make it impossible."

Determined to keep their good humor and their spirits high, Jaime asked, with a wicked gleam in her eyes, "If we do get snowbound and starve, are you going to turn into a cannibal like those people in the Donner party and eat me?"

He looked at her and laughed. "You're awful. And that's not funny. And besides"—he also yielded to irreverent humor—"you wouldn't be first. The horses and mules would come first. I'd save the best for last."

When he looked at her like that, with tenderness and affection, Jaime dared hope she would find a way to break through that wall he placed around his heart by the time they reached their destination, and he would not want to say good-bye.

* * *

It was late afternoon, with dusky shadows falling, when Cord said they would make camp a bit early. "Tomorrow we ford the river. We passed some saplings blown down a little way back that I need to gather to twine up a raft. It'll be easier to get our supplies across that way and not have to weigh down the animals. They'll have enough trouble getting across if the water is up."

After unloading the mules, he took them and backtracked to gather the trees, while Jaime tried to get a fire going but strong winds prevented it. When he returned, he told her he'd discovered a small cave nearby where they could seek shelter.

"I searched it out to make sure there weren't any grizzlies hibernating," he assured her good-naturedly. "After all, you've tangled with Indians and rattlesnakes, so it wouldn't surprise me to see you stir up a bear."

Jaime was struck by the thought that
he
was the only thing she wanted to stir up—but seemed unable to do so, of late. Every night, he turned his back after a perfunctory kiss, saying it was too soon; she was still weak. Painfully, she wondered if he was telling the truth, or if he was actually tired of her.

Darkness enshrouded them early within the shelter of the mountains and thick firs. They gave up trying to build a fire and made a supper of jerky and cold beans, then bedded down early for warmth.

Jaime lay still and quiet, mustering the courage to show him how much she wanted him.

Beside her, Cord was tense, struggling within himself to keep from taking her in his arms. If they could go the rest of the way without making love, he told himself, it would be best, but damn it, he wanted her fiercely.

Suddenly, resolve blown to the wind, they each yielded at the same instant and rolled to face each other.

With a groan, Cord reached out to tear away the nightshirt she was wearing. Roughly, he pulled her against him, her soft breasts squeezed against his chest as his hands dove to cup her buttocks and pull her tighter still.

Jaime could feel his hardness pressed between her thighs as she lifted her face eagerly for his kiss. His mouth on hers was warm, hungry, and fierce with desire. Possessively, his tongue touched hers before moving to devour her face, her neck, finally lowering to lick her heated, thrusting breasts.

Sweet delight washed over her from head to toe, as she closed her eyes and opened her thighs to receive him. "Take me," she whispered shamelessly as passion soared through her.

He did so.

And together they reached once more to the stars.

Finally, arms about each other, they fell into a deep, peaceful sleep, while the cold night winds howled beyond.

* * *

Inside the cave, daylight did not penetrate early. They were both exhausted. Cord was sleeping later and deeper than usual, and his ability to awaken at the slightest sound failed him.

He did not hear the men creeping into the campsite.

They had seen the mules and the horse tethered nearby and knew there had to be people about. Stealthily, they began to look around.

It was only when the four of them stepped to the entrance of the cave, their guns pointed, that Cord flashed awake.

"What the hell—" He reached for his revolver, always close by.

"Don't do it, mister."

He stared up at the gun pointed at his face.

"We don't aim to kill you, but we ain't aiming to let you kill us, neither."

Jaime awoke at the sound of the voices and screamed when she saw the faces staring down at her. Cord murmured to her to be calm, then demanded of the intruders, "What the hell is this all about? Who are you?"

The one standing closest had a rifle and stepped even closer to warn with a snarl, "Shut up, mister. We'll do the asking—"

That was all he had time to say before Cord moved with lightning speed to grab the gun barrel and yank it forward before jamming it painfully backward into the man's gut. Whipping the weapon around to point, he lunged to shield Jaime with his body before challenging all of them, "Which one of you wants to die first?"

White-faced, eyes widening, the men threw down their guns. The one who'd had the rifle stock jammed in his stomach had fallen to his knees and was clutching himself and moaning in pain.

Cord sprang to his feet. "Now somebody better start talking and tell me what the hell this is all about." He was furious but also disgusted with himself for allowing them to sneak up on him as they had. He was becoming more and more careless lately, and he knew it was because of Jaime and the weakness caused by his feelings for her.

"We're settlers," one of the men said, Adam's apple bobbing nervously. "Part of a wagon train that's stuck down around the bend at the crossing. My name's Lem Potter. This here's Tobias Dugan and Cuthbert Young, and that's Norman Bryson." He nodded to the one writhing on the ground.

Young spoke up, "We was out huntin' this morning and saw your animals and found your camp. Can't blame us for coming in with guns. How'd we know there weren't Injuns in here?"

Jaime was sitting up, clutching the buffalo robe to her chin. Still frightened, she met their curious, nervous stares with her own.

Cord decided they were on the level. He laid Bryson's gun aside to begin pulling on his clothes. "How long have you been there?"

"Near 'bout three weeks." Lem told him.

Dressed, Cord motioned them outside, giving Jaime her privacy.

Lem asked, "You gonna tell us who you are and what you and your missus are doin' out here by yourselves?"

Cord was not about to go into the details of his misadventures. "I was heading up a wagon train to California, but it disbanded at Salt Lake."

They were impressed, and Cuthbert Young marveled. "So you and your missus kept on going alone. That's real brave of you, mister. And you must know the trail good, too. Mind telling us your name?"

Cord sat down on a rock and bent to pull on his boots. He did not see the way they were exchanging glances, grinning with excitement. He introduced himself, then felt the need to make it clear, "Miss Chandler is not my wife. I'm helping her get to California, where she's meeting her father. She didn't want to stay back with the others. What has you stalled?" he went on to ask. "Why haven't you moved on by now?"