Cowboys 08 - Luke (15 page)

Something like one of your dresses."

"No, your highness." "Not even a day dress?"

"You gave those away after your uncle announced your engagement."

Her uncle had wanted her to look splendid at all times.

"How about one of your dresses? We're about the same size."

"Your uncle would be scandalized."

"My uncle won't know, and I'm tired of being so hot. Besides, if I wear all my best clothes in this dirt and heat, they'll be ruined before I reach the ranch." They agreed that for the rest of journey, they would share clothes. Valeria also reduced her petticoats by three. "I'm no longer in a palace. It's not necessary that I wear enough petticoats to fill a doorway."

She saved more time by adopting a simple hairstyle that required only brushing before pinning her hair on top of her head. "Anything to get it off my shoulders."

She left the tent in thirty minutes, half the time she'd taken the day before. She felt rushed and thrown together, uncertain whether her appearance would be acceptable or incite laughter. She had her reward in Luke's look of surprise.

"Did Elvira throw you out?" he asked.

The man had a peculiar sense of humor. Maids didn't throw princesses out of their own bedchambers. Even if that bedchamber was nothing but a tent.

"I don't want to be guilty of wasting your time," she said. "I intend to learn to dress as quickly as you."

"Then you'll have to sleep in your clothes."

Valeria didn't think she could do that, not even to earn a smile like the one he gave her now. Which was just as well considering how silly she was being. She started casting about in her mind for more ways to make him smile, ways to get dressed faster, eat less, anything to earn his approval.

She told herself not to be foolish, that a princess didn't seek the approval of ordinary people, but she didn't feel Luke was in the least ordinary. She felt he had been created on a grander scale than anyone she knew. She was the one who felt inferior, and that was an unfamiliar and unsettling sensation.

"Would you like to have breakfast with us?"

There was no sign of the table or of her breakfast.

"Your cook doesn't seem to be able to get himself organized as quickly as you."

Valeria hadn't thought of that. She was used to everything being ready when she was.

"Then I'll take a walk."

"Where?"

"Down to the river. Maybe over to one of those hills. I imagine the view from there is wonderful."

"You're welcome to walk to the river, but watch out for animals coming down for their morning drink. You can't walk to that hill. It's about eight miles away. Your clothes would be torn to ribbons, your shoes cut to pieces."

"Then I'll ride."

"I don't have time to take you, and I can't spare anyone."

"I can go by myself. I won't get lost. I can see the camp from there."

"When are you going to realize this is dangerous country? Mountain lions live in those hills. And if anyone is following us, that would be like handing you over to them."

"Do you mean I'm confined to that coach for the entire trip?"

"Until I feel sure we're not being followed and are reasonably safe from attack."

Her satisfaction in getting dressed in half the usual time faded. She still had no control over her life, and Luke thought she was an idiot. "No one's trying to kidnap me. I'm not of value to anyone."

The look he gave her-it lasted for only a fraction of a second-caused her to come vibrantly alert. It said she was of value.
To him!

It was gone quickly, but a princess learned to be expert at interpreting brief glances. His glance said he cared. Being of value to Luke would be different from being important to Rudolf or her uncle. For them, her value would be inextricably interwoven with her position as a princess, with her inheritance. If Luke valued her at all, it would be for herself.

As a woman.

"I have to assume you're in danger," Luke said. "If you want to be helpful, get Hans and Otto to dress as quickly as you."

He turned, started to move away, then turned back. "Thanks for getting ready so quickly. The boys and I appreciate it." He flashed a quick, almost impersonal smile, then was gone.

"That's the rudest man in the world," Elvira said. She'd come out of the tent in time to hear the last exchange.

"By our standards, he probably is," Valeria replied. "By his standards, I think he just apologized."

Luke settled the deer more securely over his saddle, smoked a cigarette, and let his anger simmer quietly. He'd never had a more frustrating four days. He'd barely made eight miles a day, and then only because he drove everybody to the brink of rebellion. Valeria's people declared they were doing everything as fast as possible, but it seemed they got slower each day. A rattlesnake bit one of the cook's assistants. He'd survived but was laid up in one of the wagons, his leg black and swollen with the poison. Another man had broken his arm foolishly trying to convince one of the mules it didn't want to sample Valeria's dinner.

Now Luke had had to go hunting for meat.

Otto and the others had continued to eat as though there was no end to their food, and as Luke predicted, they ran out of meat. He could have sent Zeke after a deer. He should have sent Hawk, but he had gone himself. Given his present mood, he figured he'd be better off away from everybody for a few hours.

He had no intention of handing the deer over to the cook. He'd probably cook all the best pieces tonight, serve what remained for breakfast tomorrow, and throw the rest away. There were twenty adults in this group. Luke, Hawk, Zeke, and seven drivers made up one half. Valeria, Hans, Otto, Elvira, the cook and five servants made up the other half. Valeria's half consumed threefourths of the food and did none of the work. They spent all their time setting up and taking down tents, cooking and cleaning up after sumptuous meals.

But he couldn't blame Valeria for his difficulties. She had started to wakeup before he called. She was dressed and outside her tent long before Otto or Hans appeared. She still refused to wear any of the clothes he'd bought her, but she no longer complained of the heat. She said she had stripped her table down to bare essentials, but she simply had no idea how bare essentials could be.

Despite their continuing disagreement, he had begun to think of her less as a beautiful remnant of a useless and outdated society and more as a woman struggling to adapt to a new and unfamiliar environment. Zeke treated her like an ex-slave owner. Hawk ignored her.

Luke wished he could do the same.

Instead, he kept finding excuses for her mistakes. He paid no attention to Zeke's absurd accusation that he was going soft on her. Having lived in Europe, he understood more of what she was going through. That made it easier to keep from losing his temper when she demanded that

extra water be heated so she could wash her hair. It enabled him to understand why she continued the ritual of sitting down to a table set with priceless china and crystal. She wasn't emphasizing the distinction between herself and those around her. She was holding on to a piece of the only life she understood.

Coming to America must have been as frightening for her as being put into an orphanage had been for him and Chet. If they hadn't stuck together, fighting to protect each other, they wouldn't have survived. They'd felt almost as fearful when Jake and Isabelle adopted them, treated them with fairness, showed them love. It was a foreign world, but Chet had finally understood and wanted it for himself.

Luke couldn't accept it. He'd stayed outside the circle. He ...

The sound of rifle shots brought Luke out of his abstraction. He immediately whipped his horse into a gallop toward the camp.

Wild thoughts chased each other through his head. Somebody was after the horses, the mules, the gold and silver, silks and velvets-Valeria. He raked his mount's flanks with his spurs, but the horse couldn't run any faster over the treacherous ground.

Before Luke came into rifle range, he saw Indians circling the wagons. Even as he raised his rifle to this shoulder, he realized the scene made no sense. All the Indians in the area had been moved to reservations.

He started firing even though only the greatest stroke of luck would enable him to hit anyone from this distance. His horse galloped over rocks, around a towering saguaro cactus, through a chest-high tangle of mesquite. Luke kept up a steady rat-a-tat-tat of rifle fire even when his shots were deflected by branches of paloverde, cottonwood, or willow. He'd be lucky if he didn't fall out

of the saddle, but the attackers would know someone was firing on them from behind. Maybe that would drive them off before they could hurt anyone.

It did.

By the time Luke threw himself from the saddle in front of Valeria's tent, the Indians had gone. He rushed forward, threw aside the flap, and looked inside. Valeria and Elvira sat huddled on the floor propped up against the bed. For a moment neither of them moved, and Luke had the horrible feeling he had arrived too late.

As he started forward, Valeria lifted her head, turned a face with fearful eyes toward him. The look of relief, thankfulness, welcome-so many emotions were packed into that one glance-was unlike any that had ever come his way before. No woman had ever looked at him like he was the answer to her prayers, a hero come to rescue her, her savior in denim and scuffed boots.

Chapter Ten

"Are you hurt?" Luke hurried forward, dropped to one knee.

"No, but I can't get Elvira to move."

Luke tore his gaze from Valeria and directed his attention to the white-faced maid. He put his hand next to the side of her throat. He felt a pulse, weak but steady. He saw no sign of blood. He lifted her up, checked her back and sides, ran his hand over her body with the thoroughness of a physician.

"She's not wounded," Luke said, a weight lifted from his shoulders. "She's just fainted again."

He heard the tent flap being thrown back and turned, expecting to see Hawk or Zeke. Instead Hans entered the tent, his nervous body clad only in a pair of trousers.

"Your highness," he whispered, his voice hoarse with fear, "are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Valeria said.

"Elvira ... is she. .."

"She fainted," Luke said. "Where are your smelling

salts?" he asked Valeria. She dug though one of the boxes in her trunk until she found an elegant, cut glass and silver-gilt bottle, which she held out to Luke.

"Take the top off and hand it to me while I hold her up," Luke said.

During this, Otto stumbled into the tent. He had managed to put on his shirt, but he didn't look nearly as upset as Hans. Luke suspected him of being far more loyal to his own safety than his employer's.

"Is she hurt?" he asked.

"She fainted," Hans explained. "Luke is going to revive her with smelling salts."

"I can see that," Otto snapped.

Luke waved the smelling salts beneath Elvira's nose. It took a moment before she revived with a violent jerk.

"Thank goodness," Valeria said.

"W-what happened?" Elvira asked.

"You fainted," Luke said.

"It's understandable," Hans said, shifting his weight from foot to foot, looking more nervous and upset than usual. "It's like the civil war all over again."

His words caused everyone to fall silent.

"It's your fault," Hans said, surprising Luke by his anger. "You weren't here when the princess needed you."

"He was hunting food for our table," Otto reminded him.

"He should have sent someone else," Hans said. "His job was to protect her highness."

"You're right," Luke said over Valeria's protest. "It was a stupid mistake, and I'm ashamed of it. I won't leave Valeria again. I'll sleep inside the tent tonight, right there." He pointed to a spot on the floor next to Valeria's bed.

"You'll do no such thing," Valeria said. "Elvira would

never get a moment's rest with you-a man-inside the tent."

Luke wasn't happy to know he'd tensed the moment he made the offer, that his body relaxed at Valeria's prompt refusal. He couldn't be sure it wasn't from disappointment rather than relief.

"Then I'll sleep outside the door. Isn't that what your guards did in Belgravia?" He hadn't meant to be snide, just to cover his reaction to his own feelings. He had to stop letting Valeria affect him like this. It might have been a long time since he'd had a woman, but he'd never been desperate before. Finding that Elvira could sit up on her own, Luke got to his feet. "I've got to see if anybody else is hurt. Stay here until I let you know it's safe to go outside."