Brides of the West (13 page)

He lifted her and carried her to the bed.

Evangeline closed her eyes as his mouth
sought out her breasts. Her breath caught as his hand eased between
her thighs to caress her through the fabric. Her fingers threaded
into his hair and she arched against his palm, signaling her
need.

But it was over before it began.

With a groan, Wolf reeled away. She touched
her fingertips to her lips, bereft of his touch. A fine sheen of
sweat glossed his face and body. His eyes flashed as his chest rose
and fell with every heavy breath he took. Why had he stopped?

“What happened here,” he paused to catch his
breath, “cannot happen again Evangeline. Not until you are
absolutely certain you’re ready to be my wife in every sense of the
word. You are free to get an annulment if that is what you wish,
but I’ll not rush your decision.” He snatched up his shirt and
whisked it on. “I’ll also not touch you until I am convinced of
your sincerity.”

Tears stung her eyes. She opened her mouth to
speak, to tell him she
did
want to remain with him as his
wife—she truly did—but he was headed toward the door.

“Change into your traveling clothes.” He set
his hat on his head. “We leave Luling this afternoon.”

***

A storm rolled in before dusk and Wolf was
barely able to make camp before it hit full force. He hobbled the
mules under the thick cover of live oak so they wouldn’t become
spooked and run, then took cover in the cramped wagon with
Evangeline and Mac as the lightning and thunder raged. They shared
a jar of spiced peaches for supper, along with fresh venison jerky
and a few
gorditas
—thick corn tortillas he’d purchased from
the street vendor in Luling. Afterward, Mac read a few verses from
the Bible while Evangeline crocheted.

Later that night, as he lay in his bedroll
beneath the wagon, a canvas tarp to protect him from the continuing
drizzle, he cursed his decision to leave and set out for Gonzales.
If they had stayed in the hotel, he might have been warm and dry
tonight. Instead, his new bride and their child lay sleeping in the
wagon above while he wallowed miserably in the mud below like a
hog.

He rolled onto his side and drew the woolen
blanket up to ward off the damp chill. If the rain eased up in the
night and the road was passable by morning, they might be able to
make decent time. If not…no, he would not think of the
alternative—being forced to remain in camp a day or two. Instead,
he turned his thoughts to his last moments with Evangeline in the
hotel room and drifted off to sleep.

***

“Hey, mister. You awake?”

Wolf opened one bleary eye and peered at Mac
who was crouched at a wagon wheel, staring. The youngster was
backlit by a halo of brilliant pink light. It was morning already?
Wolf jerked upright and banged the top of his head on the wagon,
then cursed three shades of scarlet as he collapsed onto his
rain-soaked bed roll.
Smart move, MacKinnon
.

“Bet that must’ve hurt,” Mac said.

Wolf shot him a look. “If you want breakfast,
son, I’d suggest you poke about for some dry wood.” The boy took
off toward the woods.

Momentarily he saw Evangeline taking careful
steps toward the wagon, her blue skirts lifted high enough o reveal
the white lace hem of her pink drawers, a wisp of petticoat and an
enticing glimpse of creamy bare ankle above brown kidskin boots. He
swallowed hard. It was going to be hell trying to get through
another day without touching her.

She bent to look at him, her long blonde hair
free of its usual tightly coiled bun. A few buttons were undone on
the front of her dress, revealing a deep crease of cleavage.

“The canvas sprung a leak last night during
the storm and half the flour is ruined. I think the sugar is
salvageable.”

Wolf rubbed the knot forming on his head as
he tried to quell the lump simultaneously rising in his britches.
He tried not to stare at her ankles, at the delicate lace trimming
of her undergarments, but failed miserably.

“Since the sun is shining this morning, do
you think we might get a late start today? I’d like to hang our
bedding out to dry.”

Wolf rolled out from beneath the wagon and
got to his feet. “Sounds like a reasonable request.” Besides, he
was hungry and chilled from a night of exposure and his head
pounded like he’d been in a saloon brawl. Fresh buttered biscuits
with a slice of fried salt pork and strong hot coffee were in
order. “Hang this to dry while you’re at it,” he said, stripping
off his shirt. He tugged off one boot, then the other.

Her gaze slid over his chest, the
unmistakable look of desire in her eyes as he unbuttoned his pants.
At least he thought it was desire. Was she remembering their last
moments in the hotel?

“I need dry clothing. Mine is in the black
trunk in the back of the wagon. Think you can fetch it?”

She averted her gaze when he dropped his
pants. He didn’t wear drawers—never had—and he didn’t intend to
start now simply because he was married. He kicked out of his
britches and handed them to her. No, it wasn’t wishful thinking.
The sultry look in her eyes told him she wanted him.

Her eyes darted to the woods, then back to
him. “I would appreciate your exercising some measure of propriety
around Mac, Wolf. He’s not accustomed to nudity.” Her lips thinned
into a pout as she whisked off her shawl and tied it around his
hips.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“You will cover yourself until I return with
your clothes.”

Wolf looked down at himself—at the ridiculous
green and red paisley shawl wrapped around him. “Evangeline, I’d be
more concerned if Mac saw his father traipsing through the woods
wearing his mother’s shawl than if he saw me naked.”

“He doesn’t know you’re his father.”

His gaze held hers. “A matter I intend to
remedy today.”

Alarm spread across her face. “You
wouldn’t.”

“The boy must know the truth.”

“But he just met you two days ago! At least
give him time to settle into his new home and become accustomed to
you before springing such a surprise on him. This isn’t a good
time.”

“If we wait, there will never be a good time.
Nine years have already been lost.”

Tears shone in her eyes. “Then you will make
me a liar in my son’s eyes.”

For a fleeting moment he felt sorry for her.
Then he reminded himself she’d helped herself into this situation
and it was the consequence of her actions. She’d had plenty of time
in the past twenty-four hours to prepare the boy for the news. Mac
needed to know the truth and the sooner the better.

She followed him to the chuck box at the back
of the wagon and laid a delicate palm on his arm.

“Wolf, I’ll tell him when the time is
right.”

He looked at her hand, so pale against his
dark skin. There had always been differences between them, but he’d
never realized how much so before now. They had both come from
different worlds. That hadn’t changed. Even now they couldn’t agree
on the proper course to take with their child. “I will tell the boy
after breakfast,” he said.

She sighed. “Do you hate me so much that you
would jeopardize my relationship with my son?”

He didn’t hate her, but too much time had
been wasted on lies. Mac deserved to know the truth. He adjusted
the damned ridiculous shawl that kept slipping from his hips.
Impatient, he yanked it off and tossed it aside.

Evangeline picked it up and shook it out,
then attempted to tie it on again.

“Stop.” He danced out of her reach. “I’m not
wearing your shawl!”

She made a face. “Mac is a child. Please put
it on. He should not see you in such a state.”

Gritting his teeth, he allowed her to tie the
shawl around him again. “You’d better get used to nudity,
Evangeline. The Guadalupe river runs near my property and if I know
Mac, he’ll be joining me for a skinny dip from time to time.” He
wiggled a brow at her. “So will you once I’ve rid you of the
inhibitions you apparently acquired in Savannah. I don’t recall you
ever being this stiff and straight-laced.”

Her blue eyes flashed. “Mac will wear proper
bathing attire. So will I should I choose to swim.”

Wolf snorted. “If I leave any more of his
raising up to you, woman, you’ll turn him into a lily boy. Now go
and fetch my clothes.”

At that she stormed back to the wagon.

Wolf opened the chuck box and gathered a
coffee tin and the pot. On the way, he lifted the shovel from the
hook on the side of the wagon, then dug a shallow firepit in the
mud a few yards away.

Mac returned with an armload of wood.

“Hey, that’s my mama’s shawl.” Mac grinned
and dropped the wood. “Why are you wearing my mama’s clothes,
mister?”

Wolf grimaced. “My clothes were soaked from
last night’s rain. Now stop looking at me like I’m a freak in a
traveling carnival and arrange those logs in the pit.” He turned
and whistled toward the wagon, but Evangeline didn’t answer. What
was taking so long?

The boy stared at the shallow dug out. “I
don’t know how to start a fire. Can you can show me how,
mister?”

“Only if you’ll stop calling me mister.”

Wolf blew out an exasperated breath. Garrick
Payne had neglected his fatherly duties. A boy Mac’s age should
know how to build a fire. At nine he should be able to clean a gun,
swing an axe, and hunt and skin game. He doubted Mac knew how to do
any of those things. Apparently Evangeline’s first husband never
taught the boy anything except how to be a clingy mama’s boy.

Wolf arranged a few logs in the pit and added
strips of kindling beneath.

“There’s a box of matches in the chuck box.”
He rose to his feet. “Use them sparingly. Light the kindling first.
Once the fire catches, shield the flame from the wind.
Understand?”

“I think so.”

“Good.” He patted the boy on the back. “You
can do it. Stay with it now, and don’t set the woods on fire.”

Mac smiled at him. “I won’t. I promise.”

Although it was time Mac learned to do things
on his own, Wolf still had much to teach the child. Once they were
home, he’d be expected to pull his weight at the ranch. Evangeline
as well. She’d grown up privileged with servants to tend her every
need. He supposed her life with the Reverend Payne in Savannah
hadn’t been much different. The only assistance Wolf had at the
ranch was his best friend, John Patterson.

He headed to the wagon. Where was the
confounded woman? Sidetracked with her nose in one of those ladies
magazines?

“Hey mister . . .”

Wolf wheeled around.

“Sorry, I forgot not to call you that. Where
are you goin’?”

“To get my clothes, son.”

***

“You’d better have a darn good excuse for
taking so long, woman,” Wolf growled as he climbed up and threw
back the canvas flap on the wagon. Evangeline sat stone still next
to his black trunk, her back turned to him. “What’s going on?”

She turned and her tear-filled eyes lifted to
his. “Here are your clothes.” She set a folded stack before
him.

“What’s wrong, Evangeline?”

She dabbed at the corner of her eye with a
handkerchief. “What must I do to convey how sorry I am for
everything that happened?”

He wasn’t sure if there was anything she
could do. His bitterness over the lost years with his son ran deep.
Hatred for her dead father also remained fresh. Perhaps in time he
might forgive her where his son was concerned, but today was too
soon.

“Do you want my forgiveness? Do you want me
to forget you left Texas without so much as a word to me knowing my
child was in your belly? Do you expect me to forget what your
father did to me?”

“No. I do not expect you to forget, but I had
hoped we might begin anew.”

He swallowed hard as he studied her shadowed
face. What was she talking about? “Anew?”

“I fear you don’t believe the things I’ve
told you.”

Oh, he believed her. Elijah Braddock was a
hard man and Wolf had no doubt he’d threatened both his and Mac’s
life. Still, the truth did nothing to quell the hurt.

Her eyes lifted and she met his gaze. “Papa
forced me to go to the girl’s home in Georgia. He eventually paid
Garrick Payne to marry me.”

Wolf blew out a breath, not wanting to hear
any more. “Hand me my clothes.”

She complied. “It’s the truth, Wolf. He swore
he’d kill you if I ever returned, if I ever contacted you again.
The girl’s home was Mac’s and my only hope of survival.”

He shook the wrinkles from his shirt, then
flung it aside, anger spewing forth again. “I would have taken you
and our child far away where no one could harm us. I would have
married you, would have cared for you and Mac!”

“Things were different ten years ago. There
was nowhere for us to go. After what happened in Palo Duro canyon
the year before with the Comanche, no town would have accepted our
union, considering you’re half Indian and I’m white. No minister
would have married us.”

“Enough of this talk.”

She implored him with her eyes. “You know
what I say is true, Wolf. You were forced to change your name to
acquire land. Have you forgotten that fact?”

No, he hadn’t forgotten the bigotry he’d
encountered all his life.

She drew closer to him on her knees. “Please,
Wolf, I can’t bear to see hatred in your eyes. I would rather you
not look at me at all, than have you look at me with such
contempt.”

His heart softened. He almost reached out and
touched her beautiful face, but refrained. “I do not look at you
with contempt, Evangeline.”

“But you do! How long before our son realizes
you despise me?”

He blew out a breath of disgust. “For God’s
sake, I don’t despise you.”

She sniffled. “Yes, you do. You wish I’d go
away.”