Bound For Eden (23 page)

‘I need Alex to help me butcher a cow.'

Victoria pulled a face and stepped away.

Luke snapped his fingers again.

‘And you can quit that,' Alex told him. ‘I'm not your horse either.'

‘Would you get up here, you ornery runt?'

Alex ignored him and set off on foot.

‘Alex doesn't like horses,' Victoria explained. ‘Her – I mean, his – father was killed when his horse took a fall.' She blushed, hoping Luke hadn't noticed her slip.

‘A man can't get far in this world if he's scared of horses,' Luke observed, urging Delilah after the runt.

Alex screamed as a strong arm seized her around the middle and hauled her into the saddle. ‘Let me go!'

Luke ignored her and kicked Delilah into a trot. Alex almost flopped off the saddle, until Luke pulled her upright. She squealed and clutched at the pommel. She hated the jarring gait; she felt like she would plummet to the ground at any minute – and the ground looked like an awfully long way down.

‘And you say you're sixteen?' Luke said dubiously.

‘Nearly seventeen,' she managed to gather her wits enough to remind him. It barely felt like a lie any more.

‘Bet you were in the church choir back home.'

She tilted her head to look up at him, but at that precise moment Delilah stepped up the pace and Alex felt a surge of panic; she had to return her full attention to maintaining her seat. ‘What do you mean by that?' she asked suspiciously when her heart had calmed again. She knew there had to be an insult there somewhere.

‘Don't choirs like boy sopranos?'

‘I'm a contralto,' Alex told him primly.

‘You'll be a tenor any day now, I'm sure.' She could hear the laughter in his voice.

‘I'm aiming for bass,' she snapped.

Luke looked down at the top of the battered brown hat. The runt sure was prickly. He was as bad as Luke's brother Matt.

And he sure as hell didn't know how to ride, Luke thought with disgust, watching the way the boy flapped bonelessly in the saddle, colliding with the horse at every step. He'd be black and blue by the time he dismounted. ‘Tomorrow I'll start teaching you how to sit a horse.'

‘No thanks,' Alex said swiftly.

‘What on earth were you going to do with that Arab, if you weren't going to ride him?'

Alex chose to ignore him. Which proved to be impossible.

When it came time to butcher the animal the wretched man started disrobing again. He was certainly proving to be an exhibitionist. Worse, he seemed to expect Alex to follow suit!

‘You'll get blood all over you,' Luke warned, as he hung his shirt on a fence post and lifted the skinning knife.

‘It'll wash out,' Alex said stubbornly.

They were working in a dusty paddock owned by the captain who'd sold them the cow. Alex observed the captain's two daughters taking a stroll along the riverbank, just in time to catch Luke's display. She tried to ignore them as she rolled up her sleeves and helped him with the business at hand. They lapsed into a companionable silence as they worked.

‘What happened to your pa?' Luke's question came out of the blue, and blindsided Alex. All the breath was gone from her lungs as the grief hit her again.

‘Which one?' she asked softly, feeling the sting of tears. She blinked them away and concentrated on her task. ‘My real pa, or my foster pa?'

‘Victoria said there was an accident with a horse?'

She tensed at the undercurrent of sympathy. ‘That was my real pa. I was just a kid. We'd come to Mississippi because he had a dream about working the land, but he was killed a couple of months after we arrived.'

‘I'm sorry.'

Alex tried to shrug it off. ‘He wasn't cut out for it. He was trying to pull up tree stumps when it happened. The horse shied, he fell. I was the one who found him. Ma had sent me out with his lunch pail.'

Luke paused, his gaze fixed on Alex. He could see the brittleness in the runt's expression. ‘And your ma?'

‘She was pregnant when he died. Had the baby four months later and got childbed fever. Adam's parents took us in, me and the baby, but the baby died before she was one. We woke up one morning and she was just gone. Lying there all still and peaceful; it was hard to believe she'd ever drawn breath.'

‘But now you have Adam and Victoria.'

Alex looked up, startled. Briefly she met his coal-black gaze. But then he was back at work, tactfully giving her a chance to collect herself. ‘Yes,' she agreed. ‘They're my family now. They're both orphans, like me.'

‘Victoria's not Adam's blood either?'

‘No. Ma and Pa Spar– um, Alexander, were given to taking in strays.' She took a deep breath, feeling it was time to broach an awkward subject, but not sure how to continue. ‘Luke?'

‘Yeah?' He stood and wiped the back of his arm across his brow, mopping away the perspiration. Over his shoulder Alex could see the captain's daughters giggling to one another.

‘About Victoria . . .'

‘What about her?'

‘Be careful of her feelings.' Alex looked down at her bloody hands. ‘I think . . . I think she thinks you're more serious than you are.'

‘Don't they all,' Luke sighed. Alex felt her stomach twist. ‘Don't worry, runt, I'll treat her like the lady she is. And you,' he gave Alex a wink, ‘you better treat that O'Brien girl like the lady she should be.'

Once the butchering was done and the mess cleared up, Alex and Luke headed for the water pump. ‘One of these days you're going to have to take a bath,' Luke observed, noticing that Alex was only scrubbing her hands and arms, ‘or you'll stink to the heavens.' He eyed her clothes too. The new blood splatters had merely added to the layers of filth. ‘I'd be giving your overalls a wash while you're at it.'

‘Oh, Mr Slater,' the captain's wife called, emerging from the house, ‘I thought these might come in handy.' She offered them a cake of soap and two clean towels. ‘And we'd be mighty glad if you'd join us for a pot of tea. It's the least we can do after you've so kindly given us dinner for the table tonight. I've made a chocolate cake, if you'd care for a piece.'

‘You're kind, but it's really not necessary. It was my pleasure, ma'am, after your husband sold us the cow at such a reasonable price.'

‘Of course it's not necessary,' the captain's wife fussed, and Alex could see her daughters peering through the window and giggling, ‘but we so rarely get visitors. You wouldn't disappoint us, would you?'

‘In that case, ma'am, we'd be honoured.'

‘Rarely get visitors,' Alex grumbled after the kitchen door had clicked closed behind the captain's wife. ‘They're on the trail, aren't they? I reckon they get a constant stream of visitors.'

Luke laughed.

‘We both know we're only getting chocolate cake so those girls can ogle you.'

‘Nothing wrong with that, runt,' Luke said cheerfully, tossing Alex a towel. ‘We can ogle them right back. They looked like mighty pretty girls from what I saw.'

‘You saw them watching us? You
are
an exhibitionist.'

‘And you, runt, are a regular thundercloud. Lighten up a little. The meaning of life can be found in a pretty girl's smile.'

Alex scowled at his back as she followed him into the kitchen. ‘What would your sweetheart think?'

‘What she don't know won't hurt her.'

Damn it. The runt wasn't just a thundercloud, he was a veritable downpour. Now he was thinking of Beatrice again. Which was ridiculous. Amelia was the woman he'd always planned to marry, and Amelia had never soured his enjoyment of a pretty woman. But now his head was full of Beatrice and the captain's daughters just didn't look so pretty any more. The younger one had a stingy mouth; it wasn't full and ripe like other mouths he'd known, and her lips were pale, not the rich red of summer strawberries. And the older one's eyes were a faded blue, without the slightest trace of stormy gray . . .

Hell. Luke tried his best to be charming, but his heart just wasn't in it. He was glad when they took their leave. He filled the saddlebags with their packages, and was surprised when he turned to find the runt just standing there.

‘I don't know how to get up,' Alex admitted, with no small measure of chagrin.

‘Lesson one,' Luke announced. ‘Put your foot in the stirrup and get on. Not that foot. You'll end up facing her rear end. That's the one.'

Alex gasped when she felt his hands against her buttocks, giving her a push up. She almost went sailing right over the horse. Glory, it was a long way down! She didn't like it up here by herself, not one bit. It was a great relief when Luke joined her. At least it was until she realised that this time she'd be riding behind him, and there was no pommel. The only thing to hold onto was him. Even worse, the snug saddle had her groin pressed hard against his buttocks, and her thighs hugging his.

She resigned herself to the inevitable and held on for dear life. And, despite herself, she found she began to enjoy the experience. She felt safer this time. It was something to do with the solid bulk of him – like holding onto a mountain – and the way she could feel his thighs guiding Delilah. After a while she relaxed against him, and let herself inhale his masculine scent. Oh, he was warm in her arms. Alex sighed. This trip to Oregon was going to be pure torture.

Alex didn't miss the jealousy in Victoria's eyes when they cantered into camp. She left her sister for Luke to handle and disappeared into the wagon to change out of her bloody clothes. She'd just have time to wash them in the river before dinner, she guessed.

She met Lucinda Crawford and Ilse Ulrich by the riverside. Both had their washboards out and their sleeves rolled up. ‘Oh, aren't you a good man helping Luke,' Lucinda clucked, her red hands beckoning Alex closer. ‘Here let me take those for you and wash the blood out.'

‘I can do them,' Alex protested, embarrassed. She was used to looking after herself. Even when Ma and Pa Sparrow were alive, she was the one who took care of things. Ma and Pa were both old, and no match for Alex's vigour. She couldn't help herself. Taking charge came naturally to her.

But Lucinda hushed her and snatched the filthy clothes away. ‘It's no trouble, I'm already doing some.'

Alex had to admit that it was lovely to simply sink down on the dry grass, while someone else took charge for a change. Above, the sky was turning on one of those spectacular prairie sunsets. She listened to the women chatter and the river swish by, to the sigh of the wind in the grasses, and the soft noises of the livestock enjoying the fresh feed, and let herself succumb to her weariness. Her shoulders throbbed from the afternoon's work and her buttocks ached from the short ride on Delilah.

She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew Lucinda's rough red hand, redolent with the scent of lye soap, was stroking her hair. ‘Up you get, boyo. Come and finish your nap by the fire while we cook those steaks.'

Her motherly voice filled Alex with a sense of peace. It brought back memories of better times. She struggled to her feet, her muscles protesting, and stretched. The sun was the merest sliver of molten gold on the horizon and the sky above was streaked lavender and pink. Alex yawned as she followed the women back into camp.

It was the nicest night they'd had on the trail so far. The steaks were fat and juicy, and there were potatoes roasted whole in their jackets in the coals, while the Watts brothers had picked up a jug of moonshine and were liberally sharing it around among the menfolk. The conversation flowed, and she got to know her travelling companions better. She didn't even mind waiting up to burn the bonds.

The only thing that gave her pause was the way Victoria clung to Luke. Why couldn't she see what kind of man Luke Slater was? Because no woman could when she was caught by his charm, Alex thought with a grimace, remembering the times she'd met him as Beatrice. She'd been like a fly caught in a spider's web. Helpless to struggle, even when she knew she'd be eaten alive.