Early Dawn (23 page)

She was coming to suspect that Matthew Coulter was very much like that locket in many ways. Before any of the layers had been lifted away, he’d looked extremely unappealing, but he’d cleaned up nicely, and tonight he’d revealed yet another surprise: that his feelings ran deep, strong, and true. If fate allowed them the time, she suspected that he might become a loyal friend.

That was her last conscious thought as she surrendered to exhaustion.

The next morning, Eden was dismayed to discover that the clothing they’d hung by the fire was still quite damp, especially the blue jeans. When she mentioned it to Matthew, he glanced up from where he was hunkered over the frying pan and said, “That’s one reason I gave up on washing my clothes very often. When you pack them away wet, they can sour before nightfall if the day’s halfway warm, and then you have to wash them again. That’s a lot of work.”

Scrubbing clothes on a rock
was
a lot of work, and Eden didn’t want their efforts to be wasted. After considering the situation, she got an idea. “Is there any way we could drape the damp clothes over Herman’s packs? They’ll dry by evening that way, and we’ll have fresh things to wear.”

Matthew frowned thoughtfully. “How would we keep everything from falling off? Those packs rock back and forth when Herman’s walking. Nothing’s going to stay on them unless it’s anchored down.”

After breakfast, Matthew left the damp clothing on the drying rack while he got the animals ready for the trail. Once the gear was on Herman’s back, he stepped away to regard the wooden pack frames. “If I string a line between one packboard and another, do you think tucking the clothes partly under the rope would hold them fast?”

“It’s worth a try,” Eden replied. “I can keep an eye on them. If they start to work loose, we can stop and tuck them back under the line again.”

In minutes, Matthew had their wet clothes dangling from the packs. Eden couldn’t help but laugh. “Poor Herman. He’s become a walking clothesline.”

Matthew chuckled. “He doesn’t care how he looks, and I think it’s going to work.” He glanced at Eden with a smile. “Good idea.”

Before Eden knew it, she was back in the saddle and struggling to keep the grueling pace that Matthew had no choice but to set. They rode in another circle, but in an entirely different area today, with Matthew yet again taking to a stream and brushing away their tracks at other times. Ever concerned for the horses, he stopped for a breakfast break, again for lunch, and also in the midafternoon, always removing the gear from the animals’ backs to rub them down.

That evening, Eden was so spent that Matthew announced that he would do all the chores, which made her feel useless and more than a little guilty. It wasn’t in her nature to lounge around while others worked, but her ribs, though less uncomfortable with the binding, still hurt, and the relentless pain seemed to have sapped what little strength she had.

When she went to the creek to bathe, she was once again assailed with an urge to scour her skin. This time, she was prepared for the irrational feelings that swamped her and was able to overcome them. The taint was all in her imagination, she assured herself. And Matthew was right: She couldn’t wash away the memories. She simply had to deal with them.

After drying off, she was unable to rewrap her midriff tightly enough to do any good, so she stuffed the binding into a jacket pocket and washed her clothing without any rib support. Each time she rubbed the jeans over the rock, the pain in her side grew so intense that black spots danced before her eyes.

On the way back to camp, she wrestled with the knowledge that she would have to ask Matthew to wrap her ribs again, and this time she would have to endure the embarrassment without any whiskey to numb her sensibilities. That was not a pleasant thought, but she saw no way around it unless she wanted to ride all day tomorrow without the binding.

Matthew had soaked beans all day in a leather bladder of water suspended from his saddle horn, and after she’d draped her wet laundry over another makeshift drying rack, she saw that he already had the legumes cooking over a bed of red-hot embers. He’d tossed in pieces of jerky, chopped onion, and carrots to flavor the concoction, and when he gave it a stir, the aroma was divine. Eden winced as she lowered herself to the ground at the opposite side of the fire from him.

Matthew cocked a dark eyebrow at her, his amazing blue eyes locking on hers. “You need me to wrap your middle again?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” she replied. “I tried to do it myself, but I can’t get it tight enough.”

“Of course I don’t mind.” He searched her expression and smiled slightly. “Knot your shirttails.”

Eden’s hands trembled as she removed the jacket and tied the shirttails beneath her breasts. As Matthew approached her, she got up, fleetingly met his gaze, and then averted her face, unable to bear looking at him when she felt so exposed.

“Honey, there’s no reason to feel self-conscious. When it comes to partially unveiled ladies, I go blind in one eye and can’t see out of the other one. Where’s the binding?”

His use of an endearment startled Eden. “I, um, put it in my coat pocket.”

He bent down to search for it. When he straightened, he spent a moment untangling the cloth. She stared at his big hands, remembering the warmth that radiated from them at night, but still dreading their touch.

“Suck it up,” he said. “I promise to be quick about it. I’ve roped, thrown, and hog-tied a steer in less than a minute and a half during rodeo competition. I guess I can make fast work of this.”

If he could hog-tie a powerful steer that quickly, how long would it take him to overpower her?

“Eden, look at me.”

She hadn’t realized until then that she’d squeezed her eyes closed. She pried them open and stared at him through a blur of tears.

“You’re wearing the Colts,” he reminded her. “If I take liberties, you can shoot me.”

It was true. She was armed. The stiffness drained from her spine. “Don’t be silly, Matthew. I would never shoot you.”

“That’s good to know. I’ve never trifled with a lady who might put a bullet between my eyes.”

Eden couldn’t help but smile. He was trying to help her relax, and she appreciated that more than he could know. “How very wise of you.”

As Matthew circled her, pulling the cloth tight over her ribs, he whistled a familiar tune under his breath, but she was too rattled to remember its title. As promised, he finished binding her ribs quickly, and Eden could finally breathe again without feeling faint.

He stepped back and held up his hands as if she had a gun aimed at him. “Am I safe now?”

She knew he meant it as a joke, and she was supposed to laugh, but she was so touched by his kindness that she found herself staring at him through another rush of tears. His smile faded, and his eyes darkened with emotions she couldn’t name.

When he spoke, his voice had grown husky. “I think I’ll mosey down to the creek and grab a quick bath now. Can you keep an eye on the beans while I’m gone?”

“Sure.”

Loosening the knot beneath her breasts, she quickly covered herself, then gazed after him as he walked away.

 

Matthew muttered curses under his breath as he waded buck-naked into the water and began lathering his skin with soap.
Honey?
What the hell had he been thinking to call her that? It had alarmed her. He’d seen it in her eyes. What was the matter with him that he couldn’t control his own tongue? It was no excuse that he’d been raised by a father who used endearments with all females, young or old, whether they were members of the family or not. It had been a stupid and thoughtless slip of the tongue. No more endearments, period, and no more locking gazes with her, either. What was that all about, anyway?

Matthew was still upset with himself when he got dressed a few minutes later and crouched by the water to shave. With the first pass of the straight blade, he cut himself and let fly with another curse. As the word left his mouth and rang in the air around him, he resigned himself to the fact that he’d never be fit company for a lady again. He had a filthy mouth. He still wasn’t remembering to say
please
,
thank you
, or
excuse me
. He needed a
complete
overhaul—that was what he needed.

 

The beans still weren’t done when Matthew got back to camp. After hanging his wet clothes beside Eden’s on the rack, he went to search through his packs. When he found what he needed and returned to the fire, Eden’s gaze immediately caught on the silver instrument in his hand.

“A harmonica?”

Matthew nodded and crouched at the opposite side of the flames. The Sebastians were too far away for the sound of the instrument to carry to them, so he felt it was safe to provide her with some entertainment. “I’m a little rusty, but last night you said you enjoy music, so I thought I’d give it a whirl.”

He blotted his lips on the back of his wrist, cupped his hands around the harmonica, and began playing “Oh! Susanna
.
” Eden listened for a moment and then began singing along, her voice as light and sweet as a songbird’s.

“‘It rained all night the day I left, the weather it was dry, the sun so hot I froze to death, Susanna, don’t you cry!’” She beamed a glad smile at him. “‘Oh, Susanna, don’t you cry for me! I come from Alabama with my banjo on my knee!’”

Matthew broke off to catch his breath. Her smile was infectious, and he found himself grinning. He also caught himself gazing deeply into her lovely blue eyes again and immediately put the harmonica back to his lips, this time to play “Beautiful Dreamer.” Again, Eden knew the lyrics and trilled along with the music, the words immediately making him wish he’d chosen another melody.

“‘Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me, starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee. Sounds of the rude world, heard in the day, lulled by the moonlight have all passed away.’”

She truly
was
beautiful, Matthew thought, as he watched her over his cupped hands. And it had been much too long since he’d eased his physical needs with a sporting woman.

“‘Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song, list while I woo thee with soft melody.’”

Was that his plan, to woo her with music? The thought spurred Matthew into abruptly changing the tune to “Camptown Races.”

Eden grinned impishly, began tapping out the lively rhythm on her knee, and gaily sang, “‘Doo-da, doo-da! The Camptown racetrack’s five miles long, oh, de doo-da day!’”

Safer ground. Matthew played that tune in its entirety.

When the song ended, Eden smiled at him across the flames, her eyes shimmering. “Thank you, Matthew. That was
lovely.
”

He tucked the harmonica in his jacket pocket. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He checked the beans. “For now, though, supper’s done, and then it’ll be time for you to rest.”

Eden had always loved beans. When she’d been a girl, legumes had been one of the main staples of her family’s diet.

“You fix beans almost the same way Mama does. We ate them a lot when I was little, and she always added onion for flavoring, too. Meat as well, if we had any.” She took a big bite and dimpled her cheek at him. “These are delicious.”

He took a bite, too, and smiled. “Thank you.”

“One time, David got a huge ham bone from the butcher shop, and Mama cooked it in our beans. Those were the best
ever
. She made corn bread to go with them, and we had a veritable feast.”

As much as Eden was enjoying the meal, her appetite soon dimmed, and she had to set her plate aside half-finished.

“You didn’t eat much,” Matthew observed. “You’re not feeling sick, I hope.”

“No, just worn-out.”

He finished his meal, and then went to get the bedroll. After spreading the pallet and blankets on the ground near the fire, he said, “In you go.”

“But we haven’t done the dishes yet.”

“I’ll do them. You get a head start on a good night’s rest.”

Eden sighed and handed him her plate. “I hate being a burden. I should be doing my fair share.”

“Maybe tomorrow, but not tonight. You’re too tuckered out.”

As reluctant as Eden was to let him do all the work, she nearly groaned with relief when she lay down.
Tuckered
didn’t begin to describe how weary she was. She dozed while Matthew washed the dishes, but a bit later, when he joined her on the pallet, she came wide-awake.

As if he sensed her uneasiness, he lay on his back instead of turning to put an arm around her. Gaze fixed on the starlit sky, he said, “Those mountains never fail to awe me when I look at them. They’re so massive and intimidating, yet beautiful.”

“The sky is amazing, too. Just look at all those stars. There must be thousands of them.”

He joined her in admiring the sparkly patterns for a moment. “According to Shoshone legend, the Milky Way was created by a huge grizzly bear.”