Teton Splendor (14 page)

She stepped away from the fire. “I’ll cook them once you’re done with the skinning,” she offered. She wasn’t going to sit idly by again like she had done before they reached St. Louis.

“No, you won’t.” Joseph’s words startled her. Her eyes widened, and she glared at him.

“I’m perfectly capable of cooking meat over a campfire, Joseph Walker. I’ve done it quite a few times in the last month or so, but I suppose you’ve been too busy to notice. If you think I’m just going to sit by and not do my share of the work, you’re sorely mistaken.” Her hands shot to her hips, and her anger grew with each word.

A wide grin spread across Joseph’s face, irking her even more. He strode up to her and reached for her hand, prying it away from her hip. Sophia stiffened, even as the touch sent a current of heat through her.

“I want you to come with me. There’s something I want to show you,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on hers.

Sophia’s eyes darted nervously from his stare to Caleb sitting on the ground near their fire. The boy’s attention volleyed between her and Joseph, his mouth open. This was the first time she’d lost her temper on this journey, and embarrassment flooded her that it had occurred right in front of the child.

“All right,” she said, lowering her voice. 

“Keep the fire going, Caleb. Any sign of trouble, shoot the rifle in the air like I showed you. We won’t be far.” Joseph held tight to her hand and started to lead her away from camp. Sophia’s pulse quickened. She couldn’t imagine where he might take her or what he wanted her to see.

“But, Joseph.” Caleb’s anxious words behind them stopped Joseph in his tracks. The boy ran up to them. “You told me I was Miss Sophie’s chaperone, and to never let her out of my sight. I done that, even with everyone else around. Shouldn’t I be even more watchful now that it’s just us again?” The serious, concerned look on his face touched Sophia’s heart.

Joseph laughed. “You’ve been doing a great job, Caleb. Just this one time, I’m relieving you of your duties. I’ll make sure nothing happens to her, I promise.” His gaze shifted to her, and the warm smile on his face melted her from the inside out. Sophia scarcely dared to breathe. Where had the complete change in him come from all of a sudden? He almost acted as if . . .

“Are you all right with being without your chaperone for a few minutes?” His sultry voice drew her to him like bees to a flower and her legs felt as if they wouldn’t hold her up.

“I think I’ll be in good hands, Caleb,” she assured the boy, hoping her voice didn’t betray her nervousness. She hadn’t had a moment alone with Joseph since the day he pulled her from the river. Heat crept up her neck at the memory of what happened then. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again and act like a wanton.

Seemingly satisfied, Caleb ambled back to the fire, and plopped onto the ground. When he resumed his task of skinning one of the rabbits, Joseph pulled her along the banks of the wide creek. Sophia trotted next to him, her mind filled with curiosity. She dared not ask where he was leading her. Besides, she enjoyed the feel of his warm hand enveloping hers, and simply savored the moment.

The forest seemed to close in around them as the creek narrowed and gurgled through the trees. The grasses in some spots along the banks grew to almost the height of her hips. A short distance from their camp, Joseph veered slightly away from the creek. The dense pine trees parted the way to a small, secluded pool of water. Steam rose from the surface as it met the cool air of the late afternoon.

Tall reeds grew in and around the far edge of the pool. The water appeared crystal clear, even if the bottom looked brown. A peculiar smell that she couldn’t identify carried on the breeze.

Joseph stopped in the marshy grass, and faced her. His fingers tightened around her hand, his thumb stroking lightly across her palm. A shiver of anticipation raced up Sophia’s spine.

“I have something for you,” he said quietly. His eyes roamed her face. Sophia gazed up at him, scarcely believing what was written in his dark stare. She hardly noticed when he held a small parcel up to her, until the scent of lavender drifted to her nose.

“What’s this?” she asked in surprise, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Something I picked up in St. Louis,” he answered. His eyes hadn’t left hers. “I think you deserve a little luxury. The water here is warm. I thought you might enjoy a bath.” His lips curved in a slight smile.

Sophia blinked, unsure she had understood correctly.

“Joseph, I . . . don’t know what to say,” she stammered. She accepted the cake of soap wrapped in brown paper, holding it up to her nose and inhaling the strong scent of her favorite fragrance. For weeks, she’d washed with only water or sometimes the soaproot that Summer Rain had given her. A full bath, even warm water, had become a thing of the past.

“You’ve been amazing on this journey,” Joseph said in a low tone, a serious, honest look in his eyes. “I’ll admit I’ve had my doubts that you could hold up.”

A flash of defiance passed through her at his words, and she glared at him. “Well I hope I’ve shown that I’m not as fragile as you seem to think.” She tried to pull her hand from his grip, but he refused to relinquish his hold.

“You’ve proven me wrong at every turn,” he said. The smile reappeared on his face, and Sophia’s anger dissolved instantly. “You’re a remarkable woman, Sophie.” He stepped closer, the heat from his body sending ripples of desire through her. He stood so near, his masculine scent overtook the fragrance of the soap.

Joseph’s free hand reached up slowly. Starting at her jawline, his calloused palm slid up her cheek, and his thumb stroked along her skin like a soft feather. Sophia held her breath, her wide eyes fixed on his. She’d been hoping, aching for this moment. Her heart galloped in her chest like a horse racing out of control.  He stepped closer, the front of his thighs brushing against hers.

“Sophie, I want to kiss you,” he rasped. He released her hand, and cupped her other cheek. He tilted her head to meet his gaze, and paused.  “I’ve wanted to kiss you for weeks. I haven’t thought about anything else since we’ve left St. Louis.”

The raw longing in his eyes and his unexpected confession took her breath away. She swallowed repeatedly to ease the lump in her throat. The loud sounds of crickets and evening bugs ceased around her, and she became aware of only him.

Unable to produce a word, her arms snaked around his middle, and she leaned into him. He lowered his head to her face.  He’d clearly understood her message of consent. His lips brushed hers gently. He drew back slightly, and she gripped at his back, unwilling to end at such a chaste kiss.

Joseph groaned, and his mouth closed over hers. She leaned into his kiss, her fingers tightening around his shoulders. Sensations such as she’d never felt flooded her mind, body, and soul. His fingers entwined in her hair, and his other arm snaked around her waist, drawing her even closer up against him. If he hadn’t been holding her up, Sophia was sure she’d melt into the grass. Her legs no longer supported her weight.

Sophia’s lips parted slightly in response to his mouth sliding across hers. His actions were unhurried, undemanding, just as she remembered from his first kiss. And just like the first time, her response was the same. She never wanted it to end. Much too soon, Joseph pulled his head back. Her lips tingled, and she drew in several ragged breaths. A slow smile spread across his face, and his thumb slid along her cheek.

“Sophie, I –”

The sound of a gunshot reverberated through the trees. Sophia swore the bullet had just missed her as it whirred past. She screamed. Joseph reacted instantly. He threw her to the ground, dropped down next to her, and covered her with his own body. He muttered a string of curses, and raised his head.

“Dammit, I left my rifle at camp with Caleb,” he growled, pulling his hunting knife from his belt. “Are you hit?” His hands gripped her arms.

“I don’t think so,” she whispered, sucking in a breath of air. Her heart raced with fear.

“Stay down, and don’t move.” Joseph lifted himself into a crouch.

“Sonofabitch,” a loud voice yelled from a stand of trees behind them, followed by more curse words the likes of which Sophia had never heard.

“What the hell,” Joseph mumbled, and raised his head in the direction of the voice.

Chapter Fourteen

Joseph dared a quick glance to where a man shouted obscenities near the treeline to his left. The shot had been fired from the opposite direction.

 “Get the hell out of the line of fire, Joseph. I’ll cover you,” the man yelled, his voice strained.

Joseph wasted no time. “Come on,” he urged. He grabbed Sophie by the arm and hauled her to her feet. A shot fired from the direction where their rescuer lay in hiding, followed quickly by several more.

“Stay low and run toward the trees.” Joseph pushed her forward, staying just behind her to shield her in case their would-be killer meant to finish what he started. There was no other choice but to make a run for cover. They were completely out in the open, sitting ducks to the bastard who fired off that first shot.

Sophie stumbled forward. The wide-eyed look of fear in her eyes pierced straight through his heart. With his hand on her lower back, he pushed her toward the safety of the trees. Multiple shots fired to their left, but none came from behind them.

Joseph broke through the densely nettled branches of some young lodgepoles and shoved Sophie to the ground behind the safety of a tree trunk. He rushed up behind her, catching his breath.

“Stay here,” he whispered. “Don’t move, and don’t make a sound.” He couldn’t afford to lose any time if he wanted to catch the man who had shot at them. Sophie grabbed his arm before he had a chance to move away.

“Where are you going?” Her eyes widened in renewed fear.

“After the bastard who tried to kill us.” Joseph tried to lift her hand from his arm. Her grip only intensified.

“Don’t leave me here,” she begged, her voice frantic. “That shooter could be anywhere.” Her body trembled, and she threw herself at him. Her arms snaked around his neck, and she clung to him like a scared child.

Joseph sucked in a deep breath, and held her close. Every muscle in her body shivered with fear. She’d been so strong all these weeks, it had been easy to forget that she’d never had to face the dangers of the wilderness before. He’d been shot at plenty of times, even taken a bullet or an arrow once or twice, but she wasn’t used to the harsh realities of his life. No one would have ever taken a shot at her in Boston.  

“Sophie, you’ll be safe here. I have to find him,” he whispered against her hair, stroking the back of her head.

“What about that other man?” she sobbed.

“You have nothing to worry about from him. You can trust him. Wait right here and he’ll find you. I’ll be back, Sophie. I promise.”

Joseph pried her arms from around his neck.

“You’re a strong and brave woman. I need you to be strong right now.”   He wished he could remain here and just hold her, comfort her, and take away her fear, but with every second that passed, the shooter would be further from his reach.

Joseph sprang to his feet. He couldn’t give her another second to change his mind about leaving her behind. He had to find whoever shot at them. He gave her an encouraging smile, and she nodded, her brown eyes glistening with tears she obviously fought to hold back.

He steeled his heart and ran into the forest. Darting around limbs and leaping over deadfall, using every tree and shrub for cover, he backtracked around the small clearing. He gripped his knife in one hand, and his ax in the other. When he neared the area where he thought the shot might have come from, he slowed his pace. He stopped to listen. A slight evening breeze rushed through the canopies of the tallest trees, their trunks groaning as they swayed. Birds resumed their chirping, as did the frogs and crickets.

Joseph’s mind raced. Who the hell would be shooting at them? Hostile Indians wouldn’t have stopped at one bullet. Besides, warriors didn’t shoot like cowards from behind trees. A sinking feeling gnawed at his gut. The man on the dun horse  came to mind. He hadn’t thought about him in weeks. For the first few days after leaving St. Louis, he had kept a watchful eye out for anything suspicious. After a week, he shrugged off his earlier thoughts that the man had followed them from the Ohio. There had been no signs of anyone tailing them, but right now, he was the only person he could think of. Why the hell had he been so careless and let his guard down? Traveling with Chase Russell and Sam Osborne had given him a false sense of security. He cursed at his own stupidity. His lack of judgment almost cost Sophie and him their lives.

Carefully, Joseph searched the ground. The dirt behind a large downed tree appeared disturbed, and he knelt beside it, his ears honed to any unusual sounds. The shooter had definitely been here. The soft damp earth was trampled with the impressions of a man’s boots. It confirmed that this hadn’t been an Indian.

Joseph followed the tracks deeper into the forest until they met with hoofprints. He scanned the surrounding area. The shooter had mounted his horse, and had obviously been in quite a hurry to leave, judging by the way the horse’s hooves had churned up the earth. Joseph followed the prints for a while, which led directly to the creek, and back toward his camp. 

“Goddammit.”

Joseph clenched his jaw and ran along the bank toward where he left Caleb, his eyes scanning both sides of the creek to see if the horse had left the water at any point. His heart pounded fiercely, afraid of what he might find when he reached their small meadow. Would the bastard shoot an innocent child? So far, no other shots had been fired. 

“Joseph,” a frantic voice called from around the bend in the creek. Tall trees obstructed his view, and Joseph redoubled his efforts. By the time the small meadow came into view, Caleb was running toward him.

“Are you all right?” Joseph called, his eyes scanning for a rider. Moments later, Caleb flung his body at him. Joseph pulled the boy into a tight embrace, lifting him off the ground. Caleb clung to him, his legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

“Are you hurt?” Joseph asked, waiting for the boy to control his sobs.

“N . . . no,” he stuttered. Tears ran freely down the boy’s face. “But I heard all those gunshots, and I thought you and Miss Sophie were . . .”

“Miss Sophie’s fine, Caleb,” Joseph reassured him in a soothing voice. “I know she must be worried about you, too.” He hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Did you see anyone come past our camp?”

“Yessir.” Caleb hiccupped. “A man rode right past me like the devil was after him.”

“A white man? What kind of horse was he riding?” Joseph pried the boy’s arms from around his neck. “Can you remember?”

“He was a white man on a tan horse. I think I seen him before, right after the boat sank.”

Joseph cursed silently. Who the hell was that bastard, and more importantly, why was he following them? Why had he waited until now to make his move?

You should have confronted him back in St. Louis. Dammit.

Joseph glared into the distance. The man could be anywhere at this point. Hell, he could be hiding behind any number of trees, watching and waiting to make his next move.

“Let’s go get Miss Sophie,” Joseph said. As much as every cell in his body urged him to go after the shooter, he had to stay with Caleb and Sophie. Besides, it was getting dark very quickly. There was still enough time to move their camp to a more secure location if they hurried. He wasn’t going to let his guard down again.

Joseph set Caleb on his feet. He retrieved his rifle that the boy had tossed in the grass, and together they hurried back to where he left Sophie. She had to be scared out of her mind. Especially since he’d left her with . . . Joseph snatched Caleb into his arms and broke into a run. When the clearing with the hot water pool came in view, he stopped in his tracks. Walking toward him was Sophie, leading a horse with a man leaning heavily over the saddle. Anger quickly replaced his concern. That damn fool. He should know better than leave the cover of the trees and come out in the open.

“Miss Sophie, Miss Sophie,” Caleb called and squirmed his way out of Joseph’s arms and dashed past him. Sophie stopped and knelt in the grass, her arms wide open and a smile on her face that brought a groan from Joseph’s throat. The boy fell into her embrace, and she hugged him tight.

“I told you to stay where I left you,” Joseph said gruffly when he caught up with the boy. Sophie raised her head to look up at him. The relieved smile on her face dissolved quickly, and she hastily wiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks. She released her hold on Caleb, and stood. Joseph cursed. The hurt and fearful look in her eyes made him wish he could take back his harsh words. No doubt it wasn’t she who had decided to leave the shelter of the trees.

Joseph rushed to her, and pulled her into his embrace. Her body sank against his, and she sobbed into his shirt.

“It’s all right,” he whispered. “Everything’s going to be all right.” He stroked his hand down her head and back, and held her until her trembling eased. Someone loudly cleared their throat, and Joseph pulled away from the soft woman in his arms, cursing silently.

 He glanced up at the man sitting stooped over on his horse, clutching at his shoulder. His face was drenched in sweat, and his eyes glazed over in pain. He sat straighter in the saddle and met his stare, forcing a grin.

“Hello, brother,” he rasped between clenched teeth.

****

Joseph pulled his knife from the hot flames of the fire. The blade glowed a deep orange before fading quickly to black. The last rays of the sun were fast disappearing behind the tall canopies of the lodgepole pines that surrounded them. After watching Lucas sway on the back of his horse, there had been no time to move their camp as he had intended. A bullet was lodged deep in his brother’s shoulder. A few inches lower, and it would have been a fatal shot. He held the knife in front of his face, then shifted his gaze to Lucas, who sat inches from him.

“Ready?” Joseph asked. His eyes darted beyond the light of the fire. Sophie rummaged through one of their packs, searching for her leftover bandages that she had used to bind his wound all those weeks ago. They would come in handy now. Caleb sat quietly on the other side of the fire. Joseph had instructed him to keep his back turned, telling him to keep a lookout for suspicious movement beyond the creek. Truthfully, he didn’t want the boy to witness the gruesome sight of what he had to do.

Lucas swallowed several times. His face and bare chest glistened with sweat, even in the cool evening air. He met Joseph’s gaze, then nodded with a determined set to his jaw.

“You’ve had worse than this,” Joseph commented dryly, recalling the arrow he had to pull from his brother’s back a few years ago. Lucas had taunted a group of Blackfoot warriors, leading them on a chase through the mountains for nearly two days. He’d barely escaped with his life that time. Even that hadn’t taught him a lesson to curb his impulsive behavior.

Quickly, Joseph inserted the tip of the blade into the fleshy hole in his brother’s skin, and widened the opening. Hot blood trickled from the wound, first slowly, and then in greater spurts. Lucas flinched, and his pulse throbbed in his throat. He gritted his teeth, a low moan rumbling in his chest. Joseph reached his fingers into the wide hole, and dug out the bullet. He reached for a second knife in the fire. He hesitated for a second, his eyes meeting his brother’s. Cauterizing the wound was the only way to stop the flow of blood. Lucas nodded.

Joseph held the hot steel to the wound. The stench of burning flesh mingled with the smoke from the campfire. Lucas gasped for air. Joseph sensed he was on the verge of crying out in pain, but he knew his brother well enough to predict that his stubborn pride would never allow him to show weakness in front of a woman.

“Why were you hiding out in the bushes, Lucas?” Joseph pulled the blade away from the wound. The flesh was seared black, and the bleeding had slowed once again to a slow trickle. No doubt Lucas would count the resulting scar as another proud notch in his reckless lifestyle.

A painful grin spread across Lucas’ face, and he continued to breathe in rapid spurts. He glanced toward Sophie, who was heading their way.

“You looked a mite busy at the time, Joseph. I wasn’t gonna spoil the moment for you. Too bad someone else had to.”