Cora's Pride (Wilderness Brides Book 1) (4 page)

“Dammit, woman, there wasn’t time.” There was a definite note of anger in his tone. “Hell, we’re wasting time right now.”

Cora raised her chin. “You’re right. We’re wasting time. I’m warning you again. Don’t follow me.”

She yanked on the reins and kicked the mule up the embankment and back into the woods.

“Don’t be a fool, woman,” Nathaniel called after her. “You’ll never get through these mountains alive without help. You’re lost, and you have a broken wagon.”

Cora gritted her teeth and urged the mule forward. Gray trotted dutifully next to her. Slowly, she picked her way through the dense woods, heading back in the direction from which she’d come. Nathaniel Wilder’s words haunted her. What if he had been telling the truth? What if there were Indians in the area? Keeping up with the wagon train had been her main concern since leaving Fort Laramie, but they’d fallen further and further behind as the days passed. And dammit, that man was right. She and her family were lost. How could she have let this happen?

“We’re going to be all right, aren’t we, Gray?” she spoke out loud to soothe the unease that crept through her. Something rustled in the underbrush and Cora whipped her head around, glancing over her shoulder. She sucked in a deep breath. She was being silly. That backwoodsman had filled her head with doubt and had tried to scare her.

Cora guided the mule through the dense foliage. The forest undergrowth and the countless downed logs made travel slower than molasses. Everything seemed to close in all around her. It became impossible to ride with Gray walking along beside the mule.

Cora cursed under her breath when the trees and foliage became dense enough that the mule and Gray had difficulty getting through. The clearing couldn’t be far, but she had to get through the vegetation first. Somehow, she’d gotten turned around and lost the trail.

A slow trickle of unease spread from her insides outward. Her palms began to sweat and breathing became difficult all of a sudden. Cora swallowed.

“It’s gonna be all right,” she whispered. “You’ll find your way back to camp.”

She shifted in the saddle and glanced over her shoulder again, then untied Gray’s reins from the saddle. If she held the reins, it would give her more line and Gray could fall-in behind the mule.

No sooner had she nudged her mount forward, when Gray shied next to her. Before she had a chance to react, something - or rather, someone - slammed into her from behind, clamping a steely hand over her mouth. The unease she’d felt a moment ago erupted fully into fear. The mule sidestepped and brayed. She kicked at the animal’s sides, but before the stubborn beast could respond, she was pulled from the saddle and landed in the brush.

Cora struggled, swinging her elbows back and forth in an effort to connect with her attacker’s ribs. The hand clamped firmly over her mouth made it impossible to scream. Whoever had jumped behind her onto the mule’s back was too strong, and his tight hold forced all air from her lungs.

C
ora struggled
for air as a heavy body pinned her facedown in the dirt and foliage. The rich odor of moist earth and decaying vegetation filled her nose. A twig scraped her cheek. She kicked with her legs to try and push the weight off of her, but the more she fought, the heavier the man became. He’d suffocate her at any moment.

“Stop your fidgeting and don’t make a sound, Cora,” a familiar voice breathed in her ear.

She stiffened. A flood of relief replaced the panic that had engulfed her, thinking she’d get her throat slit by a wild Indian. She forced her head to the side, fighting the tight restraint of the steely arm wrapped around her from behind. The hand covering her mouth hadn’t eased up. Her eyes rolled as far to the side as possible to confirm the identity of her assailant.

Nathaniel Wilder. Her heart pounded with dread at what he planned to do to her, while a hefty dose of annoyance seeped through her limbs. That lowly snake and criminal had followed her. She should have put a bullet in him when she’d had a chance by the creek.

“Relax, Cora, and I’ll ease up,” he murmured, his breath warm against her cheek. “I can’t let go until you give me your word that you won’t fight back, and that you’ll be quiet.”

Her muscles tensed. His hand on her mouth tightened instantly, as if he’d known that she would bite into his palm, even before it had entered her mind.

“We’re both gonna be dead if you don’t let go of your damn foolish pride and do as I ask, woman,” he hissed in her ear. The weight of him on top of her crushed her further into the ground, making breathing impossible. If he suffocated her, he’d get his wish and she would stop fighting.

Cora forced her head to relax into the dirt, even as the twig continued to scrape at her cheek. She halted her struggle – she couldn’t move anyway with that lout on top of her – and Nathaniel’s body eased away from her.

Before she even realized it, he flipped her onto her back. His body still pinned her underneath him and his face was inches from hers. Cora glared up into deep brown eyes to conceal her fear, her chest heaving against his. Strands of his long hair tickled her cheek. If he planned to violate her, there was no one here to come to her aid. If she cooperated, he might let his guard down enough for her to fight back.

“Not a sound,” he whispered again. Cora nodded while mentally calling him every foul name she’d heard men use at Fort Laramie. She didn't even know the meaning of some of the words, but they seemed to suit this man just fine.

She sucked in a full breath when his hand eased away from her mouth, and his body lifted off of her. His other arm hadn’t released her, however. He still had a tight hold around her waist.

“Crow,” he mouthed. “Don’t move from this spot no matter what, until I make sure we’re safe, do you understand?”

Cora nodded again. He was talking about Indians, and not about taking advantage of her? Nathaniel studied her for a few seconds before he let go completely. He moved away from her and stood, but crouched low to the ground.

“Stay where you are.” He didn’t wait for a response and darted to where Gray and the mule stood several paces away. Nathaniel grabbed for their reins and pulled them behind several dense evergreens.

When he re-emerged, he carried Cora’s rifle. She scrambled to get to her feet. He was already beside her before she stood fully, and pushed her further into the thicket. Cora’s back connected with a tree trunk, a gnarly branch poking her in the back. She grimaced and raised her eyes to the woodsman. Her glare apparently didn’t have the desired effect. He stared right back at her.

“Don’t,” he warned when she opened her mouth to protest. He stepped closer until their bodies touched. “Don’t make me tie you up and stuff a gag in your mouth.” His voice was low enough to sound like a wolf growling.

“Give me back my rifle,” she hissed. He’d never comply with her request. He was in complete control, and he knew it.

Cora drew in a quick breath when he leaned more fully into her, pinning her up against the tree trunk. The heat from his body seeped through her clothes, making her pulse race.

“If you don’t lower your voice, Cora, I’m going to send you out there as bait for the war party of Crow you don’t seem to believe are there. Now, keep your mouth shut and stay where you are while I find out if I’ve covered your tracks enough.”

Cora forced her eyes to remain on his. She wasn’t about to cower from the warning glare that held her immobile against the tree. His intense stare kept her from escaping just as much as the weight of his body.

He looked serious enough. Would he go through such a charade if he was lying about the Indians? Her heart pounded more fiercely. What if she’d met up with them, or worse? What if they had found her camp? Her gaze dropped to the rifle in his hand. He could just as easily take her horse again and leave her without the weapon as well as without her horse this time, and leave her completely defenseless.

“I ain’t stealing your rifle.”

Cora’s eyes snapped up to his face. He’d read her mind again.

“Now do as you’re told and stay put.”

Before she could blink, Nathaniel stepped away and disappeared into the thicket. Cora expelled her breath through an open mouth. A fine mess she'd gotten herself into this time. Why hadn't she considered that he would follow her?

“The nerve of that detestable man,” she hissed under her breath and rubbed at the sore spot on her back where the tree branch had jabbed her.

She swept some loose hair out of her face with a trembling hand. She glanced at her palms. Her heart pounded against her ribs and her legs were about to give out on her. Was it fear, or anger with herself that Nathaniel Wilder could overtake her so easily that made her body react as if she would faint at any second?

She stepped away from the tree and slowly leaned forward, craning her neck in the direction Nathaniel had gone. He was nowhere to be seen and the forest seemed eerily quiet. Even Gray and the mule weren’t detectable behind the trees where they stood.

Minutes passed that seemed like hours. The forest remained silent, save for a few birds that refused to stop their chirping. A gentle breeze swished through the upper canopies of the trees as if trying to soothe her anxious nerves. What if there really were Indians nearby and they’d found her camp?

If Nathaniel had made off with her rifle, she had no way of defending herself and her sisters, or hunt for food. It had been her father’s rifle and Ted had wanted it for himself, but Cora had refused to even let him hold it.

She glanced toward the trees where her horse and the mule stood tethered. Why hadn’t he taken Gray? She took a step toward the animals, then halted in mid-stride. She could simply take her horse and mule, and ride away, but she still needed to get her rifle back. Nathaniel had been adamant that she remain quiet and not move from that spot.

Don’t trust anyone, especially a man who already stole your horse once.

Cora cursed silently. She was supposed to be the strong one, the one who protected her siblings. Right now, all the strength had left her, replaced by uncertainty. She was in an unfamiliar land with only her determination and pride to get her and her family to Oregon.

She sank to the ground, staring at the leaves and pine needles in the dirt, not really seeing anything. A fine mess she’d gotten herself into, but she’d get everyone safely to Fort Hall. If Nathaniel Wilder didn’t return within the next few minutes, she was going to go find him.

N
athaniel ran through the forest
, darting between trees and leaping over downed logs. Satisfied that he’d once again diverted the Crow away from his trail and, most importantly, off Cora’s trail, he rushed to get back to where he’d left that stubborn female. She may well have ridden off on her horse already.

The Crow were persistent, and he might have to confront them eventually to keep them away from Cora’s wagon, but with darkness coming soon and no trail to follow, the Indians would make camp. They were moving in the opposite direction from where the women were camped, which would buy him some time to get the wagon out of the area in the morning.

Why was he even entertaining the thought of helping Cora and her family? He cursed his dumb luck again for having lost his horse and supplies. He could have been halfway home to Harley’s Hole by now, and he never would have had the misfortune of meeting up with a stubborn female the likes of Cora Miller.

He could easily change course and get back to his own business – find his horses and head home. Some undefinable force kept him from doing exactly that. Those women needed all the help they could get. How they’d made it this far on their own was a mystery to him. Cora’s stubbornness and pride were most likely the only reasons they had gotten as far as they had before their wagon broke down.

If it hadn’t been for old Harley finding him and his brothers many years ago, there was no doubt that his entire family would have died. Folks helped each other out in the wilderness, even if it meant putting up with the likes of impossible women like Cora.

Nathaniel’s lips formed a smile. She certainly had shown her backbone earlier when she’d pointed that rifle at him by the creek. She couldn’t have found his tracks. He’d been careful to hide them. She’d simply gotten lucky when she caught up to him. He could have disarmed her easily and forced her to listen to him then about the danger of the nearby Indians.

Then why hadn’t he? Why had he let her believe she’d had the upper hand? Perhaps it was her spunk and the glow in her eyes that showed she was the sort of woman who would toe the line to no one. For all her stubbornness, there was something about her that intrigued him. Her pretty face had something to do with it, no doubt. What man alive wouldn’t find her nice to look at? But it was more than that. A woman like that - bold and unafraid - was rare and he’d found himself undeniably drawn to her.

He mentally shook his head. Not that he’d explore that attraction further. The quicker he could be rid of her and her sisters by pointing them in the right direction to Fort Hall, the better. Like his brothers, Nathaniel valued his freedom in the mountains and the valley they called home with Harley. The Wilder brothers answered to no one but each other, far away from the prying eyes of civilization; a life definitely not suited for most women.

Images of his mother and little sister crept into his mind. The muscles along his jaw and neck tensed, and he ran faster to rid himself of their memories. Why did thoughts of them have to surface now, when he had more important things to focus on? He could barely even remember their faces.

Satisfied that the Crow hadn’t come across Cora’s tracks and were still searching for him, Nathaniel slowed to a walk when he neared the place where he’d left her. The horse and mule still stood tethered to the tree. He grinned.

“I’ll be damned.” Perhaps she wasn’t as foolish as he first thought, and had listened to his instructions.

He circled around the tree, coming up behind the thick growth of brush where he’d left her. His eyes narrowed. She sat on the ground, staring at the leaves. At that moment, she looked small and vulnerable, nothing like the spitfire woman she tried to portray to the world.

His pulse increased. Thoughts of her soft body pinned beneath him a short while ago made the tips of his fingers tingle, itching to touch her. The fragrance of her hair and clothes, scents distinctly feminine, had mixed with the earthy smell of the dirt beneath her, making him react in ways from which he’d best stay clear. There was no place in his life for a female, and especially not one with a stubborn streak as long as the Missouri. Hell, she’d probably thought he was trying to have his way with her when he’d pulled her from the mule’s back.

Nathaniel remained hidden from view, studying her while she was unaware of his presence. He’d get an earful from her soon enough.

Much of her hair had come loose from its braid, and leaves were stuck in the golden strands. A thin streak of blood marred her cheek. Nathaniel’s jaw tightened. No doubt he was responsible for that, but there had been no other way to get her to listen to him other than to ambush her. She would have ridden directly into the Crow war party.

He’d planned to simply follow her back to her camp and make sure that the wagon was safe from discovery by the Indians. He’d had to act as soon as he realized she’d gotten herself lost and was heading in a direction that would have put her on a straight path toward the war party.

If she fell into their hands, he’d have to rescue her from them on top of finding his horses and supplies. It had been wiser to keep her from getting caught by them in the first place, even though he now had to make his intentions known. He was going to stick around and make sure she didn’t run into any more trouble. Cora and her sisters needed help, there was no question about it.

Taking in a deep breath, Nathaniel moved out from behind the foliage. He stepped down hard on the leaves and twigs on the ground, their splintering sounds making him cringe. He’d never deliberately made noise in the forest. All his years in the wilderness had taught him to tread light and quietly, but this time it was best to be heard.

Cora’s reaction was instant and exactly as he’d expected. She scrambled to her feet and faced him squarely. The vulnerability in her eyes and the softness in her features from a moment ago vanished as she cast a suspicious glare at him. Nathaniel plastered a smile on his face and moved toward her. She raised her chin, but didn’t back up.

“You came back,” she stammered. The surprise in her eyes was as unmistakable as in her words.

“You thought I’d simply leave you here? Take your rifle and not come back?” Nathaniel narrowed his eyes. Someone had betrayed her, no question. There was so much unspoken mistrust on her face. Anger welled up inside him. Who left a bunch of women to their own devices in the middle of nowhere?

“I’m no more a stealer of rifles than I am a horse thief, Cora.” Nathaniel stepped closer. He held out the rifle to her. It was time she put a little trust in him. She eyed him suspiciously, then reached for her weapon.