White Nights (3 page)

And when his ma had invited him to also feel, he’d done so, not expecting anything. But the bumps and movement of his baby sister had given him that first rush of wonder that came with the discovery of life. He’d never forgotten it, and had looked forward to the day when he could have his own family, feel his own babes’ movements before holding them.

Eirica shifted her position. James felt his heart thud against his rib cage. His blood raced anew as their gazes met across the short span separating them. Conscious of her wariness, he stopped a respectable distance from her, content with the sheer pleasure of gazing into eyes as blue as bittersweet nightshade. Tendrils of golden-red hair framed her small oval face and he fought the urge to reach out and sweep the silky strands away from her face.

“Afternoon, ma’am.” He jerked the felt-brimmed hat that had seen better days off his head and clutched it tightly between his fingers.

“Mr. Jones.” She dipped her head then hesitated, as if about to say something more. But she remained silent, staring down at her son, her front teeth nervously pulling at her lower lip.

James allowed his eyes to dip to her moist mouth. Full and soft, her lips drove him crazy with desire. A man could spend a lifetime tasting her lips, discovering the hidden charms of her inner mouth, and never learn all her secrets. One part of him strummed with life, causing him to shift uncomfortably.

He swallowed a sigh of intense desire and reminded himself to go slow, have patience. More than anything, he longed to see love and trust replace the wounded and wary look in her eyes—and after nine years of raising his sister, he figured he had the patience of a saint.

Alison tugged at his hand. “Mama, we’re back!”

Eirica smiled gently at her elder daughter. “So I see. Did you have a good time?”

The little girl let go of James and jumped up and down between the adults. “Oh yes, Mama. We climbed that big rock and everything looked so very tiny. I tried to see you but I couldn’t. And guess what, Mama? James cut my name into the rock. Right on the very top for everyone to see!”

Eirica’s head jerked up and around to face him. She pinned James with wide eyes gone smoky-gray. “You took Alison to the top of that rock?” A frown tilted the corners of her vulnerable lips downward.

James fiddled with his hat and tried to smile reassuringly. “Yes, ma’am, but don’t fret none. Jess and I kept Alison close. She was never in any danger.”

“We had fun, Mama.” Alison pouted, glancing from one adult to the other. “James and Jessie made me hold their hands.” She folded her arms across her narrow chest. “But I could’ve done it all by myself. I’m a big girl now!”

Eirica shifted Ian in her arms and visibly relaxed. She drew a deep breath. “Yes, sweetheart. You are a big girl. Your ma is just fussy as a hen with one chick.”

Alison giggled. Eirica shifted Ian in her arms and smiled down at her daughter. “I think Lara missed you. Why don’t you go tell her about your adventure.”

“Yes, Mama.” Alison skipped over to her sister and chattered nonstop.

James stared at Eirica, noting her pale, pinched features. He gentled his voice, spoke slowly and carefully as one might to a frightened doe. “I’d never let anything happen to her, Eirica.”

Eirica shifted Ian in her arms again, her gaze skittering away from his. “I know. I’m sorry, Mr. Jones, I truly trust you and Jessie. It’s just that I worry so. She’s so young and I feel so guilty for what happened to her.”

James frowned. “Why should you feel guilty for something you had no control over?”

Eirica lifted tear-filled eyes to his. “If I had gone with Alison and Jessie to Fort Laramie, or not allowed Alison to go with your sister, that horrible woman and her brother might not have kidnapped them. Without my little girl as bait, Jessie might have been able to get away from them.” She broke off and closed her eyes.

“If I’d lost Ali—”

“But you didn’t,” James interrupted, moving closer, drawn by the pain and guilt in her eyes. “Jessie and Alison weren’t hurt. Everything turned out all right.”

He glanced over at Alison, who was telling her sister about her climb up the rock. Though he sought to reassure Eirica, the memory of her daughter and his sister in the hands of the vengeful criminals still haunted his own nights.

Eirica glanced up at him, opening her mouth as if to protest. James stopped her by placing one finger gently over her lips. “Don’t torture yourself, Eirica. What’s done is done. Leave it where it belongs—in the past.” He removed his touch, grateful she hadn’t flinched from him. His heart lightened. She
was
coming to trust him.

“You can’t convince me you don’t still think about what happened,” Eirica whispered.

James replaced his hat and pushed the brim up. “Yeah, I do. I go through hell just thinking about the what-ifs, but none of us knows the future, and we can’t wrap those we love in cotton wool.”

He grinned ruefully. “Though Lord knows, I tried with Jess when she was younger. I guarded her fiercer than a she-bear her cubs, so scared she’d hurt herself and them town folk would come take her away. But most of the time, my good intentions to protect her weren’t appreciated.”

A genuine and amused smile curved Eirica’s lips. “I imagine Jessie was a handful.”

James snorted. “Hah, Jess is willful, stubborn, rash—”

Eirica interrupted with a soft chuckle. “And you wouldn’t have her any other way.”

He grinned back, loving the sound of her laughter, grateful the sad, melancholy mood that normally shrouded her had lifted. “True enough. Your Alison reminds me of Jessie. Always out for an adventure.”

James rocked back on his heels. Now that Alison was no longer under her father’s oppressive thumb, she’d blossomed. Her confidence grew daily and she showed every sign of becoming as adventurous as Jessie. But the kidnapping had been too much for a young child. Worry for her sobered him. “Have her nightmares stopped?”

Eirica nodded. “I think so. She hasn’t had one in more than a week now.” A companionable silence fell between them. Finally, Eirica glanced at the fire. “I’d best see to supper.”

The aroma of fresh bread set his stomach to growling. He longed to wrangle an invitation to stay and eat with her and her children, but he didn’t want to rush her. Noting her tent hadn’t yet been erected, he nodded. “I’ll see to your tent before I go.”

Eirica glanced up and shook her head. “No need, Mr. Jones. You’re a busy man. I’ll see to it after supper.” She carried Ian to a blanket spread out on the ground. Before she bent to lay the sleeping toddler down, James, who’d followed her, reached out.

“Here, let me.” He took the boy in gentle arms and lowered him to a pile of quilts. The day was warm so he didn’t bother to cover him. Standing, he turned, not realizing Eirica stood so close to him. His arm brushed against her swollen belly.

Startled by the suddenness and the unexpectedness of his touch, she jumped back and lost her balance. James reached out to steady her. He released her arm when he saw the flash of fear in her eyes. He flinched against the stabbing pain in his gut. Damn, her instinctive reaction to his touch stung, and though he knew she couldn’t help it, her reaction felt like someone had slammed a fist into him, knocking the air from his lungs. Not all men were mean drunks like her first husband.

But knowing she’d married young, and therefore had no other experience with men, gave him hope that one day she’d realize that all he wanted to do was love and cherish her. He took a deep, steadying breath, and left his hands hanging loosely at his sides where she could see them. “Eirica, you have nothing to fear from me. I’d never hurt you.” He kept his voice low and soft, his body still.

Color crept up her neck and stained her cheeks. She lifted miserable teary eyes to him. “I—I’m sorry, Mr. Jones. Sometimes I just react.”

James tried a smile to lighten the tension between them. “I know.” Again, the silence stretched between them, this time fraught with tension. He rubbed the back of his neck then adjusted his hat, trying to work up his courage. “I thought we’d agreed to drop the formality between us. I’d be honored if you’d just call me James. Please?”

Eirica twined her fingers together, her gaze locked with his. “All right—James.” She picked at the fraying edges of her apron, but she didn’t move away from him.

A wave of happiness stole through him. He held out his hand. “Friends?”

Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his. “Friends.”

Quelling the urge to draw her close, James relished the feel of her small hand in his big callused one. It thrilled him that she’d taken this step. He released her immediately, though he could have stood there all night holding her hand and gazing into the blue of her eyes. Her gaze was so full of emotion, he felt her thoughts, her pain and her uncertainty.

“Thank you, Eirica.” Going to the back of her wagon, he reached in and grabbed the rolled-up canvas, brushing aside her second protest that she could see to her own tent. Time would heal her wounds. For now, he’d take it nice and slow and show her he could be trusted, that he would take care of her and cherish her. One way he could prove his good intentions was to ease her hardship on the trail. Whistling, he pushed up his shirt sleeves and unrolled the canvas tent.

Eirica glared at James, who went about setting up her tent with a tuneless whistle. His cheerfulness made her long to march over and demand he stop, but she swallowed her pride. What else could she do? Aside from truly being tired from the long day, she’d learned during the past month it did little good to argue or protest when James decided on a course of action.

James Jones was too used to taking charge. She just wished he’d listen to her, consider her wishes, but like most males, he didn’t think her serious, thought he knew best. And maybe he was right, but it hurt that he ignored her.

Turning away from him, she removed the Dutch oven from the fire and checked the bread. It was done, so she pulled it from the pan and set it out to cool. Then she put a pot of water over the hot coals for some tea. Minutes later, she sat on the wagon tongue, stretching her swollen feet out before her and cradling a tin cup of sweetened tea in her hands. Though she had a few precious minutes to sit and enjoy the peace, her growing debt to the Jones family, in particular to James, left her too edgy and restless to relax. Being a burden to others weighed heavily on her conscience.

Eirica understood the hardships of the trail, had witnessed the fate of women forced to continue alone after the loss of their fathers, husbands or children. So many women struggled with no help from their wagon train. If they fell behind, they were left to fend for themselves.

Eirica knew she could so easily have been in the same position if not for the generosity of James and his willingness to share his wagon and supplies. He’d made it possible for her to leave her husband and strike out on her own. Birk had made it very clear during their marriage that everything they owned belonged to him, that if she ever left him, it’d be with the clothes on her back and nothing more. Of course, he’d never thought she’d actually leave. Her lips thinned. She’d proved him wrong.

At least she had her wagon and supplies back, though Birk had nearly lost them when he’d tried crossing the river alone. Unwilling to think about him or what he’d put her through, Eirica gnawed on a hard-as-rock biscuit while slanting James a look from the corner of her eye.

She had to admit it felt heavenly knowing someone cared enough to step in and do what needed to be done—but that was the problem. Her growing dependence on James and the others scared her. Once they reached Oregon, they’d all go their separate ways and she’d be left to survive as best she could.

For her own peace of mind, she had to know she could be self-sufficient, physically and emotionally. It was time to stand up for herself, and stop relying on others, including James. But how to tell him without offending him or hurting his feelings? How could she make him understand how important her independence was to her?

Alison and Lara ran past, begging James to let them help. Watching him with her girls, she admired his patience at the small hands that hindered more than helped. The sight of the genuine affection between him and her daughters tugged her heartstrings, forcing Eirica to fight harder her growing attraction to him—another source of worry plaguing her mind and heart. His kindness and gentleness touched her, tempted her to reach out and take what he offered.

How could any woman not be drawn to this fine man? She shifted so she could watch him without craning her neck. He’d stopped working to roll up his sleeves, revealing tanned arms dusted with thick, dark, curly hair. Her gaze continued downward to skim long legs encased in faded and worn denim pants that fit snugly over narrow hips. Noting the holes in the knees, she made a mental note to mend them on the next wash day as a way to repay her debt.

Her attention slid back up his long, lean frame to his hair, black and silky-looking, falling in soft waves past his collar. The breeze ruffled the gently curling ends like a woman’s fingers. When he reached up to steady a pole, his flannel shirt pulled taut. Muscles rippled from one side of his back to the other. A tiny quiver of appreciation darted through her. James was a man in his prime. He wasn’t pretty-boy handsome like Coralie’s brother Elliot but more rugged, earthy.

Staring at him, it was apparent he’d spent his days outdoors in the sun, wind and rain, even before heading west. A fine form such as his didn’t happen overnight.

James chose that moment to glance over his shoulder. He caught her staring at him and had the audacity to grin, revealing strong white teeth in stark contrast to his darkly tanned face. The lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled with hidden amusement and the two grooves etched on either side of his mouth deepened. Her breath quickened. Unlike most other men on the trail, he kept his face shaved, revealing a square jaw that warned of a stubborn nature.

But oh Lord, that face of his. How had she managed so far not to be affected by the sheer beauty of it? He held her gaze with his own. Heat seared her cheeks. Flushed, Eirica glanced away, her breathing quickening. He could have any woman he wanted. So why her? She wasn’t worthy of someone like James. She was too damaged, too worn in mind and body. But how to convince him that she wasn’t interested? How to convince
herself
she wasn’t interested!

Part of her rebelled, hating the thought of him with someone else, but knew it was best for him to turn his attentions elsewhere; Eirica could not allow herself to ever fall in love again. Though he was gentle and patient, he, too, would eventually consider only his own needs. The fact that he refused to listen to her sat like a lead ball in her stomach. He was just a man—a man like all others—and men weren’t to be trusted, not even nice, handsome ones like James.

Though James wasn’t mean like Birk, he would expect to dominate his wife and children. He was too used to being in charge, and she could never put herself under the dominance of another mate, especially one with the same tendency to override her wishes, as he was doing now with the tent. It didn’t matter that he believed he was doing her a favor.

In fact, that made him even more dangerous in her eyes, for Birk had been just as sweet and kind when they were courting. He’d won her over with fistfuls of wildflowers, store-bought gifts, sweet words and sweeter compliments followed by declarations of undying love. Eirica had believed she’d found her knight in shining armor, her hero, someone who’d love and cherish her forever.

How wrong and so very, very foolish she’d been. Heroes didn’t exist outside the pages of some stupid books. As soon as Birk had what he’d wanted from her—someone to cook, clean and take care of all his needs—he’d revealed his true nature, one he’d carefully hidden from her during their courtship. It had only taken that first night alone with him to have her dreams of love, romance and happily-ever-after crushed.

Hunching over as if in pain, Eirica’s eyes burned with remembered humiliation and terror of those first weeks of marriage. But she was wiser now. She knew better than to believe a man’s promises of love and devotion. She’d learned her lesson, but the suppressed need to be swept off her feet lingered, reminding her of the innocent and naive girl she’d once been. Troubled, her fingers smoothed the material of her bodice over the worst of her scars.

Taking deep, slow breaths, Eirica calmed herself, forced her hands back into her lap. She wouldn’t think about the past. With effort, she shoved the painful memories back into the dark recesses of her mind. Needing activity to keep the haunting nightmares at bay, she struggled to her feet and walked slowly to the back of her wagon, rubbing the tightening skin of her abdomen. She couldn’t help stealing one last look at James.

How she longed to be proven wrong, longed to find true love, but the stakes were just too high. It was time to face reality. She was a widowed woman with three children, and soon she’d give birth to number four. With so much to be done to prepare for an infant, she didn’t have the energy or time to waste on wishing for what could not be.

She peered inside the wagon, found the small, beat-up trunk that contained baby clothes and quilts. But it rested against the side, just out of reach, with heavy sacks of flour and rice piled around it. She frowned. Now what? She couldn’t climb into the wagon anymore. With a sigh, she glanced over her shoulder and saw that James was finished setting up her tent. He was deep in conversation with his brother Jordan. She hesitated to interrupt, hating to ask anything else of him, yet she had no choice.

But before she could go to him, the two men walked away with Jordan leading his horse.

Eirica planted her hands on her hips. “Bother!”

“What’s up, Eirica?”

Shifting her stance to face the woman who’d come up behind her, Eirica smiled. “Hi, Coralie,” she greeted the pretty blonde girl, then motioned in the direction of the two men. “Your husband just left with James.”

“Yeah, he has first watch tonight, which means I’m stuck helping Jessie and Rook cook.”

Jordan and Coralie had married days before setting out for Oregon. Eirica remembered Coralie’s first few weeks on the trail. The newest Jones family member hadn’t been at all enamored of outdoor life and hadn’t hesitated to let everyone know. She’d been spoiled, petulant and nearly impossible to be around. But slowly she’d changed, matured into a caring woman.

Eirica shaded her eyes and glanced around. “Is Jessie already helping Rook?”

Coralie grimaced. “Probably. As I should be. Do you need her?”

“No,” she sighed. “It can wait. I planned to go through the baby clothes I brought with me tonight. Figured they might need airing and some mending, but I can’t climb into the wagon to get them.” She patted her belly.

Scoffing, her friend stuck her nose in the air. “You don’t need Jessie for that. I can get them just as well. Where are they?” She clambered into the back of the wagon after adjusting the skirts of her beige wash-day-length calico dress.

Eirica hid her smile at Coralie’s obvious need to compete with Jessie. She pointed out the small trunk. Sisters by marriage, Jessie and Coralie were as different as night and day. Jessie was a tomboy skilled in the outdoors and Coralie a city-bred lady spoiled by her father. The two had started the trip as mutual nemeses, but their longstanding feud had finally come to an end, leaving Eirica free to enjoy both her new friends, their easy banter and now-friendly rivalry.

“Here we go. See?” Coralie gave one final pull and fell back on her bottom, puffing and panting. “We don’t need Jessica for this.” Wearing a pleased grin, she hopped down from the back of the wagon, then swayed.

“Coralie!” Concerned, Eirica reached out and grabbed the girl’s arm. “Are you all right?”

Coralie leaned against the wagon and closed her eyes briefly while fanning her cheeks with her hands. “I’m fine. Just a bit dizzy.”

“Dizzy?” Eirica frowned, then did some fast calculations. “Have you been dizzy before, I mean, recently?”

Coralie lowered her voice to a mere whisper. “I haven’t said anything to Jordie because I don’t want him to worry, but I’ve been feeling sick and am so tired. I’m so afraid I’m going to take ill and die.” She closed her eyes. Tiny tears clung to her lashes.

Her own problems forgotten, Eirica put her arm around the younger woman’s narrow shoulders. “Coralie, when was your last flow?”

Coralie’s gaze flew open, clouded with confusion. “My last—” Understanding dawned in her baby-blue eyes. Her gaze went wide first with shock, followed by disbelief, then absolute joy.

“I haven’t paid it much attention out here, traveling each day. It’s been a couple of months, I think.” She paused, grabbing Eirica’s fingers tightly. “Oh, Eirica,” she breathed, “you don’t suppose—could I be with child?” Her hushed voice tingled with suppressed excitement.

Laughing, Eirica hugged her. “Don’t think there’s any supposing about it. Looks like you’re going to be a mama.”

As sudden as it had come, Coralie’s joy fled and a look of horror washed over her features. “I can’t be with child. I don’t know how to be a mother. I’ve never even tended a baby. How will I know what to do? I can’t do this.” Her voice rose and ended in a panicked squeak.

Eirica rolled her eyes. This was the Coralie Eirica knew well. Overemotional and melodramatic. “Calm down, Coralie. You’ll do just fine.”

Seeing that her words didn’t reassure her, Eirica put her hand on the other woman’s shoulders. “Look, my baby is due in a month. You’ll have plenty of time to learn how to diaper, bathe, hold and care for an infant. I’ll show you everything and you can help me and practice.” She lifted the lid of the trunk. “By the time yours is born, you’ll be a pro, and I even have lots of baby clothes for you to use—”

Eirica’s voice trailed off abruptly. An odor of rot filled the air and made her gag. “Oh no,” she moaned, staring at the mildew-covered baby things in disbelief. She lifted out what had once been a tiny white gown. It was now black with a hole through it where the material had rotted.

“The dampness from all those storms got into the trunk.” Eirica pulled out layer after layer of moldering cotton. “They’re all ruined.” Even the tiny blankets and quilts on the bottom were covered with holes and black dots of mold.

Coralie covered her mouth, obviously fighting the urge to gag. She moved away. “Oh, Eirica, how terrible. What are you going to do? Will you have time to sew more before the baby comes?”

Feeling the weight of responsibility return to sag on her shoulders, Eirica blinked back tears of helplessness. “I don’t have any material. Birk wouldn’t let me buy any to bring. I was counting on these lasting until I reached Oregon.” She bit her lip and just stared at the ruined layette.

Coralie patted Eirica on the arm. “We’ll figure out something. I have some material from Pa’s store that he insisted I bring, even though he knows I can’t sew. We can see if there’s anything there you can use.”

Hearing a shout across the way, Coralie glanced over her shoulder and grimaced when Jessie motioned her over. “Guess it’s time to start cooking. Those hired hands of Wolf’s are worse than a swarm of locusts. I swear, they’d eat their tin plates if they could.”

Standing, she awkwardly patted Eirica on the shoulder then hurried over to where Jessie and Rook were busy preparing supper.