Cora's Pride (Wilderness Brides Book 1) (7 page)

Cora snatched her rifle from his hand. “I don’t know what you are, but I have to be careful and look out for my family.”

Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed. Who had put so much mistrust and hurt in her? If she continued to be this stubborn, she wasn’t going to live long.

“I’m trying to help you, Cora,” he tried again.

“I don’t see why you’d want to do that, Mr. Wilder. I’ve brought my family this far, I will get them to Fort Hall, too.”

“And then what?” He threw his hand in the air. His voice rose to match his growing frustration. “Then what are you going to do? The last wagon train passed through a couple of weeks ago. There won’t be many more this year. It’s getting late enough in the season that you’re going to run into snow further west in the mountains. You won’t stand a chance on your own.”

Cora glared at him, determination and desperation in her eyes. She reined her horse away from him.

“Let’s get moving, Anna,” she called.

“Is Mr. Wilder joining us?”

“No, he’s not.”

Nathaniel shook his head and cursed silently. He clenched his jaw to keep from shouting out to her what a stubborn and foolhardy woman she was. The look in her eyes before she turned away was puzzling. She’d looked scared, confused, and vulnerable, but it hadn’t been because of his warning about snow or that she couldn’t go on alone without help. She was scared of him.

N
athaniel added
a few more pieces of wood to his small campfire. He pulled the sage grouse he’d snared earlier off the spit, then sank to his haunches and leaned against a tree trunk. In the distance, the faint, high-pitched sound of a woman laughing came from one direction, which was quickly answered by the yapping of several coyotes in the nearby hills.

His body tensed as irritation surged through him. He tore a leg from the roasted bird with more force than necessary, and bit into the meat. If he strained his eyes, the glow of the women’s campfire became visible through the trees. Pulling his blanket over his shoulders, he stared into the low-burning flames before him.

“I hope that fool woman figures out to keep that fire low,” he grumbled under his breath. “They’re already making too much noise.” One of his horses snorted somewhere behind him, as if in agreement.

Two days had passed since the incident with the Shoshone. While he still kept a watchful eye and ear out for Crow, he was reasonably sure that Proud Elk and his warriors had chased their enemies back to their tipis, doing him a favor in the process.

Nathaniel had stayed back when Cora had told him not to follow her and her wagon again. He’d scoffed at her request . . . once her back was to him and she was riding away. He had his horses and supplies again. There was nothing stopping him from heading home. He chewed his meat more vigorously. He couldn’t head home. Not until he saw the women safely to Fort Hall, no matter how much Cora resisted his help.

Then what?

No wagon master in his right mind would allow a wagon full of women and children to tag along. How Cora had managed to get this far was remarkable. She might be stubborn, but so was he. She might be able to keep him out of her camp, but she sure as hell couldn’t stop him from tailing her all the way to Fort Hall and beyond, if he had to. Someone had to look out for them.

That’s exactly what Harley had done after the old trapper took Nathaniel and his brothers away from their burning wagon to live with him. Trying to teach four farm boys how to survive in the wilderness, Harley had left them in the middle of nowhere, and told them to find their way back to his cabin. Not until years later had their mentor admitted to them that he’d been following them the entire week while they were lost.

“Made men outta ya, didn’t it?” he’d said with a laugh. “Would have wounded yore pride if ya had knowed I was there, watchin’ ya the entire time. Taught ya some valuable lessons, too, bein’ on yore own.”

Nathaniel’s mind was made up. Without wounding Cora’s pride, he’d look out for her and she didn’t need to know about it. He shifted on his haunches. Although he’d had his blankets for warmth, he’d spent another sleepless night under the stars last night. Thoughts and images of Cora Miller wouldn’t leave him be.

If only she wasn’t so damn mule-headed and would at least talk to him without getting her back up. The apprehension he’d read in her eyes just before she rode off bothered him more than he cared to admit. Why the fear and mistrust in her eyes when she looked at him? Everything he’d done so far was to protect that woman, and she’d acted as if he were the enemy intent to do her harm.

Someone laughed again. Nathaniel sprang to his feet, tossing the bones of his supper into the fire. He kicked dirt over the flames, grabbed his rifle, and marched in the direction of the noise. He was a good half-mile away from where the women were camped, but if he could hear them from that far away, then so could anyone else in the area. They’d kept a quiet camp the previous night, but apparently saw no need for it tonight. Time to put a stop to their foolish and careless behavior.

Nathaniel kept to the trees this time rather than approach Cora’s camp in plain sight. It was a dark, moonless night, and she or anyone else would only see him if he stepped within the reach of the light from their fire. Best to assess the camp first before he made his presence known, if at all. He wouldn’t put it past Cora to shoot first and ask questions later if she noticed someone hovering nearby.

“Get ready for bed, Patrick,” Cora called from where she sat on a tree stump by the campfire. The boy stood in the shadows with the horse, holding something to the animal’s mouth.

“I ain’t tired,” Patrick shot back.

“You will be in the morning, when I wake you before dawn.”

Nathaniel smiled. She sounded a lot like his mother when he’d refused to listen at that age. He leaned against a tree and closed his eyes. Now was not a good time to think about his childhood. He forced his attention to the sounds coming from the camp. Cora’s two younger sisters mumbled in hushed tones.

“Good night. I’m turning in,” one of them said. By the creaking sounds of the wagon, someone had climbed into the bed.

“Aren’t you going to bed, Josie?” Cora’s voice was soft and filled with love and tenderness.

An inexplicable rush of warmth flowed through Nathaniel’s veins at the sound of her voice. Every other time he’d heard her speak, she'd had her dander up and had sounded gruff or angry. He strained his ears and stepped slightly around the tree, consumed with need to hear her speak again.

He’d already found out that she was soft and feminine when he’d pulled her from the mule the other day. The softness in her voice as she spoke to her sister, a tone she apparently concealed from anyone other than her family, matched his memories of her body as she had lain pinned beneath him. If she knew he was there, her walls would go up again. Nathaniel smiled. No doubt her hackles would be raised, too, and she’d chase him from camp with her rifle.

“When will you teach me to shoot?”

Nathaniel’s eyes widened at the question coming from the younger girl.

“I told you, once we get to Fort Hall. I promise I’ll teach you to defend yourself, Josie.”

The boy laughed. “Cora can’t even hit a deer from twenty paces. That’s why we had to eat beans and salt pork again tonight. I’m tired of eating the same old thing every day.”

“Patrick Hudson,” Cora scolded. Even so, her voice maintained its softness. “Be grateful that you have food to fill your belly. And for your information, I didn’t even take a shot at the deer you’re referring to. It darted away before I had the chance.”

“Well, you didn’t hit Mr. Wilder either, and you did shoot at him.”

“Would you have wanted me to shoot a person?” Her voice lowered.

Nathaniel’s forehead scrunched. She’d called her brother by a different last name than Miller. Only two reasons came to mind. The boy wasn’t her full brother, or Cora was married. Something didn’t sit well in his gut with the second thought. If she’d been married, what had happened to her husband?

“Go, get ready for bed,” Cora urged. Her sister headed for the wagon, while the boy disappeared from sight behind some bushes beyond the light from the fire.

Nathaniel peered around the tree. He should make his presence known, despite his earlier thoughts of observing and protecting from a distance. What held him back? He grinned. With all their talk of shooting guns, someone was liable to hit him. The truth was, listening to Cora’s sweet voice kept him rooted to the spot.

Cora sat next to Anna in front of the fire, staring into the flames. She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. There was a definite chill in the air. Maybe that’s why they had such a large fire going.

Minutes passed as the two women sat in silence. The chorus of crickets grew loud around camp, while the fire crackled and popped.

Cora spoke first, her voice hushed. “Patrick is getting to be at that age where he needs a man to teach him things.” She laughed quietly. “He’s right. I’m a terrible shot, but at least I can teach him to stand up for himself. I hope Josie and Caroline learn that, too.”

“You’ve done well with raising him so far,” Anna encouraged. “I do agree that there are things he needs to learn that a man would be more suited to teach him. Shooting a gun is probably one of them.”

Cora stared from the fire to her friend. Even from Nathaniel’s vantage point by the tree, it was obvious that she glared at Anna.

“The only two men in his life left, remember?” Cora spat. There was no softness to her words this time. “What lessons has he learned from them?” Her voice cracked slightly. She leaned forward on the stump where she sat, and lowered her head. She cradled her face between her hands while her shoulders slumped forward.

A quiet sob reached Nathaniel’s ears. Cora? Crying? The thought seemed ridiculous. This was not the woman he’d encountered a few days ago. He slid his hand along the tree trunk and took a step forward. Something stirred in his gut. The last woman he recalled crying was his mother, after his father had been shot. Nathaniel clenched his jaw.

Anger and self-loathing rushed through him every time the images of his parents’ final moments invaded his thoughts. He mentally shook his head to get rid of the memories and focused on the women by the fire. Once again, he was hiding like a coward. He’d make his presence known . . . in a minute.

Anna placed a hand on Cora’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Cora. You’ve taken on such a heavy burden. It’s all right to ask for help.”

Slowly, Cora’s head lifted. She sniffled, then laughed scornfully. “Need I remind you that I’ve tried that? I can’t afford to make the same mistake I made back in Independence.”

Anna sat up straighter. “You can’t afford to be mistrustful of everyone, either, especially someone who’s clearly willing to help us.”

Cora’s body visibly tensed. “If you’re referring to that backwoodsman, you can forget it.”

Nathaniel’s ears pricked. At least she hadn’t completely dismissed him.

Anna smiled. “I’ve never seen you get so riled at a man before. Not even Ted.”

Cora scoffed. “Nathaniel Wilder is no better than any other man.”

Nathaniel gripped his rifle tighter. What reason did she have to compare him to other men she’d met? She didn’t know the first thing about him. His hunch had been correct. She’d been hurt, and hurt bad. His back and shoulder muscles tensed. The need to help her and prove that she was wrong about him increased.

Anna reached for Cora’s hand. She leaned forward and looked her friend more squarely in the eye. “Why, Cora? He seemed nice enough to me. He’s come to our aid several times already.”

Nathaniel nodded at Anna’s words. At least there was one sensible female among the bunch.

“You didn’t have to send him away the other day. He said he’d take us to Fort Hall.” She inhaled a deep breath before adding, “Sometimes, people might do nice things simply because it’s the right thing to do, not because they want something in return, or have underhanded reasons.”

Cora’s scornful laughter went straight to his heart, as if he’d been stabbed with a knife.

“Really? I haven’t met a man yet who doesn’t want something in return. We’ll get where we need to be without his help.”

“What ulterior motive do you think he might have for helping us?” Anna pressed. Nathaniel curled his toes inside his moccasins. He should march into that camp and defend himself, not let Anna Porter do it for him, but if he did, Cora’s hackles would be raised worse than they already were.

Leaving his camp to come here had been a big mistake, even if he needed to warn the women to keep their fire burning low and their voices down. He shouldn’t be privy to this conversation, but he couldn’t walk away from it, either. He was no better than a peeping tom. Learning more about Cora kept him from doing the honorable thing - walking away.

“I don’t know,” Cora stammered.

Nathaniel smirked. She didn’t have a good reason, because she was wrong about him.

“He already stole Gray once,” she said quickly. “He sees us as an easy target – four women alone in the wilderness. Just like Ted took advantage of me in Independence.”

Ted

Nathaniel’s fingers curled tighter around his rifle. He didn’t even know the man, but an intense dislike grew in him to where the muscles along his back hurt.

By the fire, Anna giggled. “If I didn’t know any better, Cora, I’d say that Mr. Wilder has gotten to you, and that you’re –”

“I’m going to bed now.” Patrick skipped into view, stopping just short of the fire. Cora raised her head to her brother, then back to her friend. The two women looked at each other in silence before Cora stood.

“I need to check on something,” she muttered, and followed the boy to the wagon.

Anna held her hands to the fire. She sat quietly for a minute, then raised her head and peered into the darkness. Nathaniel took a hasty step backwards, pressing up against the tree. Anna stood and headed directly for him. Damn.

She came to a stop a few paces away from him, out of the light of the campfire. She turned in his direction, hugging her shawl tightly to her.

“Mr. Wilder, I hope you’re hiding behind this tree for a very good reason,” she whispered. “Please don’t let me be wrong about you. I hope you have honorable intentions.”

“How did you know I was here?” he asked.

“Don’t you know it’s not polite to sneak up on people? You were so busy eavesdropping that you forgot to remain hidden.” There was a smile in her words.

“You’re a lot more trusting than Cora. Don’t tell her I’m here,” he grumbled. He’d successfully snuck up on hostile Indians more times in his life than he could count. He’d never live it down with his brothers that he couldn’t sneak up on a bunch of women without being found out.

“I consider myself a fairly good judge of character. You could have left with Cora’s rifle the other day when those Indians surrounded us. Whatever you said to them made them leave.” She paused, as if searching for the right words. “Cora has her pride, Mr. Wilder. I won’t tell her that you’re following us,” Anna reassured him. “Although I’m sure she suspects it. The truth is, I’m glad that you are here. It eases my mind to know that you’re nearby, and I thank you for it.”

Nathaniel chuckled. “Just want to make sure you women get to Fort Hall in one piece.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, silently cursing himself for having been so careless to be seen, and now he looked like a fool.