A Texan's Promise (4 page)

Vanessa couldn't help but notice just how well Clayton rode. It was as if he and Lee were one. She knew there were many reasons for that. Clayton had served in the cavalry at the end of the war. Once she heard a couple of hands discussing how he'd lied about his age so he could both fight for the Confederacy and ride his palomino.

The rumors weren't surprising. After all, his natural leadership skills had earned him the position at the Circle Z. After four weeks, her father had appointed him foreman when Absalom Graves had decided to head down south and spend his last years with his only surviving son.

Though the appointment had bothered Miles mightily, Clayton had shouldered the responsibility with ease. If anything, it had seemed like he'd relished the position, obviously finding it easier to lead than to be led. In a remarkably short while, everyone started looking to him for directives, sometimes even her father.

Price's appearance had changed little. Even her stepfather knew he was no match for Clayton's abilities. So instead of working, he'd concentrated on spending the ranch's money as quickly as possible.

Now, as she left her family and placed every ounce of her trust in Clayton, Vanessa knew she'd follow him to the ends of the earth.

After all, she had nowhere else to go.

By sundown, Clayton estimated that they'd reached his goal of covering forty miles. He recalled the trail they were taking. More than once he'd followed Major Merritt along this way in last-ditch efforts to outwit the Yankees. Merritt's ingenuity had served Clayton well. Merritt was married to his sister, and he was still alive—far better off than the majority of the men who'd fought next to them.

Clayton breathed a blessed sigh of relief when they came to the ravine he'd recalled, this one with an abandoned cabin on its banks. Maybe they could finally stop for the day. He knew Vanessa desperately needed some rest. Though she hadn't said a word, he was sure the stress of the past twenty-four hours was taking its toll.

"Vanessa, hold up. I'm going to take a closer look."

Obediently, she reined in Coco and waited patiently, though she looked to be holding herself upright out of sheer willpower.

After dismounting, he pulled out his Colt and scanned the area, looking closely for any signs that it had been occupied recently. Nothing was evident.

The door, hanging precariously on its hinges, creaked an awkward greeting, but all that lay inside was a dirt floor littered with debris and the dank smell of mildew. Most likely the ravine had flooded recently.

As Lee nosed the ground for stubs of grass, Clayton eyed the tangle of woods surrounding them. All was still, only whippoorwill cried out in the distance.

Finally satisfied, he approached Vanessa. "This will serve for tonight." Curving his hands around her waist, he swung her out of the saddle, inhaling her scent against his will, as she leaned closer than usual, practically sliding herself against him until she reached the ground. He held her steady until she got her bearings. Worried she might collapse, he didn't release his grip. "Vanessa?"

She shook her head as if to clear it. "I'm sorry, Clay." With a faint blush, she said, "I think my backside must have fallen asleep. How may I help you?"

"Only one thing. Sit down before you fall down."

"I can't let you do everything. I'll help with the saddles."

He stilled her. "Darlin', don't take this the wrong way, but I can do this faster and easier without you. Once more, I'd feel better knowing you were resting."

"But—"

"Another time you can help me all you want. I promise."

Whether she was too tired to argue, or because she knew he was right, she sat. "Yes, Clayton."

They were close enough to other homesteads to make a fire without causing undue notice. By nightfall, the temperature would drop. The last thing Clayton wanted was for Vanessa to take a chill.

After settling the horses, he built a small fire a few feet from the abandoned cabin. The cabin would help shield them from the wind and help Vanessa warm up. Next he set to boiling coffee.

Against his advice, Vanessa pulled out two mugs from their saddlebags and placed the apples, cheese, and bread out on a clean bandanna. Clayton knew they both were too tired to cook beans or fish, even if he had been of the mind to catch something.

Finally, after washing up with some of the water he'd gotten from a creek they'd passed hours ago, Clayton murmured a brief prayer of thanksgiving and then they ate. As their stomachs filled, a strained silence rose between them. As well as he knew Vanessa, he'd never been alone with her for such a length of time.

His experience on the trail had been solely in the company of men, with himself in charge. He was used to giving orders, assigning watch. He had no supply of easy conversation or amusing stories suitable for feminine ears.

But as he saw her hugging her knees close, and a pained expression visiting her eyes, he knew something had to be said. As his reality sank in, Clayton found himself wondering just how to calm Vanessa, what to say.

Unfortunately, no sweet promises came to mind. Everything he used to tease her about—her vast number of pretty dresses, the curls of her hair, the endless boys who tried so hard to receive a smile from her—all that was gone now.

As if she, too, felt the tension, she unfolded her legs. "I think I'll go lie down, Clayton."

As he watched her stand up stiffly, he remembered the ointment he'd pulled from the barn just before they left. If her swollen cheek was any indication, her back was sure to be in a bad way. He stood up, too. "I better check on your back."

Vanessa swallowed hard. "There's no need."

Clayton felt her same discomfort. Now that blinding anger no longer guided his thoughts, he was far more conscious of their isolation—and of the uncomfortable new awareness he felt in her presence.

During their ride, he'd taken notice of all the things he usually tried so hard to ignore. Her purely feminine form, the smooth line of her jaw. As the hours passed, he'd found himself thinking about the calluses that were sure to be forming on her soft palms. Had they blistered? "I'm afraid there is every need.The cuts on your back need to be cleaned," he explained. "I have balm that will help with the scarring, too."

"Oh. I . . . I hadn't thought about that."

Mentally, Clayton chastised himself. He should have known better than to give her something else to worry about.He motioned to the large rock in front of the fire. "Sit down, now. This won't take long."

He stood behind her, giving her at least the illusion of privacy.Once she'd finished unbuttoning his shirt, he carefully knelt down behind her, his knees creaking with the motion.Lord, he felt old.

Luckily, the wounds hadn't festered too terribly and he was able to slip the shirt off her shoulders without causing her discomfort.But still, her back looked no better in the waning daylight. Bruised and swollen, the skin puckered around the sores, cracking as scabs attempted to form.

She held herself motionless as he washed off the day's sweat and grime, knowing the fresh air would do her injuries good.

Until that minute, he'd never wanted to be anything other than the man he was. However, as he eyed the glob of salve on his hands, he wished he had softer fingers, skin that wasn't quite so rough.

Vanessa turned her head, her eyes widening as she witnessed him eyeing her back, his right hand raised in uncertainty."It'll be okay, Clay," she whispered. "They really don't hurt too bad."

Too bad?
Slowly, he dabbed the salve along her cuts, taking care to reach each part but not hurt her in the process.Inadvertently, he rubbed the smooth silkiness of her back as well.

Vanessa had the type of skin that only years of coddled living could give a woman. Pale, creamy-soft. Covering the gentle mix of muscles and bones that made men go into battle.

Even hurt and cut, Vanessa was beautiful. And he wasn't unaware that he was the first man to spy her bare back, to caress her at all.

His hand jerked at the direction of his thoughts. Was he no better than Price?

Vanessa exhaled roughly, bringing him back to the present."All done?"

After one more pass, he dropped his hand. "All done."

She moved to pull his shirt back up, but he stilled her. "I think it'd be best to try and sleep in just your camisole, if you can. The cuts might heal better in the air."

She winced at his tone. Once again, his efforts to remain detached had made his voice rougher than usual.

Curving her arms over her chest, she looked like she was a lost soul. "Where . . . where will we sleep? In there?" She motioned to the abandoned cabin.

"No." He rolled out two bedrolls, pulled out the blanket she'd packed as well. "We'll sleep here, by the fire. Come lie down, Vanessa."

She unlaced her boots, then stretched out on her side.Gently, he covered her, like he would a child.

Except she was far from that. Her bare shoulders glowed in the moonlight, reminding Clayton that Vanessa had become a beautiful woman before his eyes. He needed to be man enough to acknowledge the fact as well as the fact that she was offlimits to him. He'd promised her father to watch over her, not dream of things that could never be possible.

As the fire crackled, illuminating their area and casting a warm glow over their sorry circumstances, Clayton stretched out his legs and sipped his coffee. He'd sleep in a little while.For now, all he wanted was a few minutes' silence.

But Vanessa had other ideas.

"Clay?"

"Hmm?"

"Remember when I went to that barn dance two years ago?"

"I do." Vanessa had worn a mossy-colored satin that had brought out the green in her eyes.

"Remember how I'd had such a crush on Teddy?"

The question elicited a chuckle. "No one could forget your crush, sweetheart." Teddy West had worked for Circle Z for one interminable season. Clayton had breathed a sigh of relief when they'd made it through those five months without having to dismiss the randy cowboy, he'd flirted so outrageously with Vanessa.

"I never told you this, but Teddy kissed me that night."

Maybe he should have done some damage. "I never knew that."

"I'd been so excited. We danced, and then Teddy suggested we go out where it was cooler. It was warm in that barn.Remember?"

She was far too trusting. "Vanessa, honey, it wasn't all that warm. It was March."

"Don't fuss. This was years ago. Anyway, there we were, dancing and twirling, when all of the sudden, he dipped me, then held me close."

Clayton gritted his teeth. "And then?"

"He kissed me." Vanessa said it dreamily.

She was waiting for a response. He couldn't think of one that wouldn't betray his feelings.

"I thought that night was just about the most exciting moment of my life, Clayton. A dance, a kiss . . . "

He couldn't help but interrupt. "It was only one kiss?"

"Oh my goodness, yes." She turned her head to face him."What did you think I did?"

"I didn't think anything." Suddenly, he was extremely glad for the darkness surrounding them. He was afraid he was blushing.

"Well, after that first one, we danced some more, and then Teddy wanted another kiss."

He really should have sent that boy out on his ear like he'd wanted to. "You should have called for me. I would have made sure he didn't try for more." Ever.

"Oh, Clayton. I couldn't do that. You were dancing with Charlotte Fleet—and she'd been dying to dance with you forever."Propping herself on her elbows, she stared at him, eyes all sparkling and full of mirth. "Did you kiss her?"

"I did not. Not that it's any of your business. So . . . what did you do to Teddy, since you foolishly decided that you didn't need me?"

"I gave him a good hard push and told him no, thank you, then hightailed it back inside."

No, thank you?
She should have kneed him hard enough to making walking difficult. For a month. "I'm glad he listened."

"Clayton? Right this minute I feel the same way."

Only Vanessa could say so much and still not make a lick of sense. "How so?"