Jodi Thomas (16 page)

“Where’s Tobin?” Anna smiled, knowing they both enjoyed the silence of his absence more than the noise of his presence.

Swinging around with a start, Chance relaxed as her nearness registered. “He rode ahead to scout. The people should have more to eat tonight. There was plenty of game.” He pulled clean shirts from his bag.

Anna clasped her hands behind her. “I washed your clothes and mended a few. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.” Chance looked at the worn shirt as though it were new. “No one’s ever done that for me.”

“But I’m your wife. I’m supposed to do things like that for you.”

Chance shook his head. “But you don’t have to. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”

“I know.” Anna felt her face turning red. Somehow, as Chance’s fingers brushed over the stitches she’d made in the shirt, he was touching her. “I just wanted to,” she whispered.

He laid the shirt carefully over one arm. “I’ll clean up and put it on.”

As he reached into the bag once more, a puzzled look crossed his face. He pulled a rich, brown, leather pouch from the saddlebag.

Nervousness tickled the hair at the back of Anna’s neck as she watched him turn the case over in his hand. “I thought you could use that.”

Chance opened the bag to find a fine, masculine dressing set, complete with a gold-handled shaver. He handed it back to her. “I can’t take this.”

“Of course you can.”

“Was it your husband’s?”

Anna nodded. To be honest, she’d never seen William shave. They’d lived quite separate lives in Germany, and on board ship she’d always avoided him as much as possible. She pushed the case back toward Chance. “You’re my husband now. Take it. I want you to have it.”

Chance held it carefully and headed down to the stream to clean up. He was halfway through shaving when he realized he hadn’t even said thank you. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched Anna coming toward him.

She walked to the water’s edge and filled a pan, then sat back to watch him shave.

“Much obliged.” Chance smiled down at her.

“Much obliged?” she repeated.

Chance laughed. He’d finally found a word she hadn’t been taught. “Thanks. I’ve never had anything so fine.”

Anna brushed off his gratitude and allowed her practical mind to take over. “It was of no use to me. The only sensible thing to do was give it to you.”

Desperately, Chance tried to think of something else to say—anything—just to keep her near. “I heard you laughing back there with Selma.”

Anna’s soft laughter filled the air once more. “She was telling me of her romance with Carl.”

As Chance shaved, Anna told him the story. He loved having her all to himself, and she loved watching him shirtless in the late sun. The shaver moved in his strong hand, and Anna couldn’t imagine William ever holding it with such grace.

As an easy silence fell between them, they watched a cloud of dust appear on the other side of the stream. Leaning down, Chance lifted his rifle and wiped the remaining soap from his face. Anna could hear the faraway thunder of hooves coming inexorably closer as though danger were traveling at double speed.

“What?” She couldn’t do anything but watch the dust cloud approach.

Chance stepped between her and the stream. “Get back with the others!”

“What is it?” She couldn’t make her feet move.

Listening, he whispered, “Riders, moving fast. Three, maybe four.” His words grew sharp. “Anna, go back to camp!”

Anna took a step backward, watching the dust cloud grow nearer. Her eyes focused on the front figure in buckskin. “Tobin!” she shouted. “It’s Tobin!”

Chance raised his gun and took aim. He waited, ready to fire, as the riders grew closer. The other riders materialized from the dust, their dark hair flowing behind their heads and their bare chests flashing reddish brown in the sun.

They were almost within range when Tobin raised his arm and yelled, “Don’t shoot, son!”

Lowering his gun an inch, Chance studied the Indians behind Tobin. “Comanche,” he whispered as Tobin splashed across the stream at a wide shallow point several yards upstream from where they stood. The Indians held back, vanishing into the tress in the time it took the water to settle in behind Tobin.

“Lower that rifle, son. You’re making me nervous.” Tobin swung from the saddle as the horse reached the bank.

“What are you doing riding into camp like the devil’s on your tail?” Chance lowered his rifle and picked up his shirt. “You just took a year off my life.”

Stooping, Tobin drank a handful of water, ignoring the fact that he’d muddied it considerably with his ride. “Well, son, I reckon you got enough years to spare a few.” He laughed and nodded at Anna. “I met up with them braves about a mile back. First I thought they aimed to have me for supper, but after a few minutes I knew all they wanted to do was play. They didn’t pull a bow, and I’ve seen a Comanche string his bow, thread an arrow, and let fly in the time it takes a white man to pull a trigger.”

Anna laughed and Chance swore under his breath as he carefully packed his shaving kit. To be honest, he enjoyed Tobin’s stories because they always made Anna laugh, and for that he’d even pay the price of being called son. “You’d better watch out, Tobin, or they’ll have what’s left of your hair.”

Tobin shrugged. “They was just boys tryin’ their legs. They didn’t mean nobody harm. I wish I’d had time to talk with them; maybe they’d solve our problem.”

“What problem?” Chance asked, looking from Tobin to Anna, silently warning the older man not to share anything that might frighten her.

Brushing Chance’s warning aside, Tobin continued rattling like a man running for office. “We’re about a half day’s walk from the Guadalupe River, son. New Braunfels is right across the river, but with all the rain, it’ll be days before the river is low enough to cross. These folks are goin’ to be real disappointed when we get to the river and can’t cross to the settlement.”

“Are you sure?” Anna moved between the two men.

Tobin took no offense at the question since it was asked by a woman. “Course I’m sure. I rode up and down the river for miles. There ain’t no way to cross that thing till some of the water goes down. That river would take half your people with it if you tried to cross now.”

Chance had to agree. He’d been thinking they might have this problem after all the rain they’d had lately. “You’d better go tell the reverend.”

Tobin nodded. “I did find an old fort nearby. Folks could camp there till the river goes down.”

Disappointment shadowed Anna’s face. “The people are sick in body and heart. Better to tell them now than to wait until they get to within sight of the settlement only to find they’re unable to cross.”

Pulling his horse along behind him, Tobin headed toward the others, mumbling, “Don’t see how a few days will make all that much difference anyway. When they get to their new settlement, they’ll be too busy fighting Comanches to plant any crops.”

Before Anna could follow Tobin back to camp, Chance grabbed her arm. He held her back until the old man was out of sight. Looking up, she was startled by the anger in his face. His dark blue eyes were stormy and his face was twisted in rage.

His words were as cold as the north wind. “The next time I tell you to go, you’d better move. Both our lives could depend on it.”

Anna twisted away. “The Indians were harmless.”

Chance’s angry stare didn’t soften. “Yes, this time, but what about next time? I told you to get back to camp. If you ever decide not to listen again, I swear there’ll be hell to pay.”

“I’m not some empty-headed girl to be protected from the truth. You don’t own me and I won’t be bossed around by you or anyone else.”

“You don’t know what the Indians might do if they captured you.” He spit the words at her as if she were a child. “I’ve seen what can happen to a woman.”

“I doubt they could do anything to me that is worse than what I’ve already suffered.” Anna lifted her chin. “You’re not my lord and master and I’ll not be threatened.”

“That’s right. I’m just your husband, bought and paid for. Nothing more. You’ve reminded me often enough.” His eyes were the moody blue of an evening sky just before a thunderstorm.

The blood was pounding in her head. “It could be to your advantage. If I die, you can keep the hundred dollars and be on your way.”

“Don’t tempt me, woman, or I might become a widower tonight.” A smile twisted the corner of his mouth.

“How dare you threaten me!”

“Threaten you! What do you think you’ve been doing to me since the night we married? You’ve threatened to kill me at least once a week since we’ve been together. I’m beginning to think living with you is far more dangerous than this country and every Indian within a thousand miles.”

Anna shoved him hard, catching Chance off balance. He plunged into the stream, grabbing her shoulder as he fell and pulling her down with him.

They hit the cold water with a splash and a scream. Anna twisted to hold onto him as the current pulled her along. “Help!” she screamed, as water filled her mouth and nose. Terror flooded her mind, circled around her, and pulled her under the muddy water.

Grabbing her shoulders, Chance yanked her up. “Stand up!” he shouted as he gained his own footing.

Anna’s feet touched rock. She stood, realizing the water didn’t even come to her shoulders. Suddenly, laughter caught her in a current swifter than the water. She’d shoved Chance into the stream and almost drowned herself in less than four feet of water.

He slung wet hair from his face and lifted her silently into his arms. As he carried her from the stream, he smiled. “Drowning me was not one of the ways you’ve said you might kill me.”

Anna smiled, her anger cooled by the water. “I have to use whatever weapon is at hand.” Then, in a more sober voice, she added, “It almost backfired. I can’t swim.”

Chance looked at her in disbelief. “Then I’ll have to teach you. Looks like we’ll have plenty of time and water while we wait for the river to go down. It could take weeks.”

He lowered her feet to the ground but their wet bodies still touched. “I guess this was your first lesson. Don’t go into water unless you know how deep it is.”

Pushing her wet hair from her face, Anna looked directly into his eyes. “Is that an order?”

“Never,” Chance answered. “Only a request—but I suggest you heed my requests in the future.”

“I always heed requests.” Pulling away, Anna gathered up her wet skirts and hurried toward their tent. “It’s orders I never follow.”

The evening breeze chilled Chance through his wet clothes, but he felt a warmth deep within him as he watched her go. “I’ll remember that,” he whispered to himself. The urge to hold her was an ever-growing need within him, a fire that might drive him mad before their year together was over.

T
he weary band of immigrants camped on the bank of the Guadalupe River for almost a month, waiting for the water to recede. Fish and meat were plentiful, but they hungered for fruits and vegetables. Several more of the troupe died of the fever, but most rested from the long walk and waited for the opportunity to claim their dream. Chance refused to sleep inside the old fort, for he feared the sickness more than Indians.

The days grew warmer and Anna found her waist thickening as spring approached. She spent her hours caring for those who were sick and helping out where she could. By the time the river was down enough to test the wagons, she’d made several friends among the people. Her gift for nursing surprised even her, for she’d spent most of her life alone and didn’t think of herself as skilled at comforting the ill. Although she hated watching those who were sick grow weaker, Anna felt good that her body ached with exhaustion at the end of each day. She prayed with family members when someone died and rejoiced when death’s hand slipped.

On warm evenings Chance dragged her down to the water and made her swim. The lessons were little more than play, but Anna began to relax around him. He’d strip down to his pants and she finally got over feeling exposed in her undergarments. The water soothed her exhausted body and Chance’s light banter made her forget her problems for a while. He showed more patience than she thought any man could. By the time the moon had completed a full cycle, she surprised herself and swam several feet.

Yet the day the water was low enough to cross, the muddy river still frightened her. She knew Chance was near, and all she had to do was keep a tight hold onto the wagon, but the water seemed to lick at the sides, trying to pull her to her death.

“Chance,” she whispered as the wagon almost rolled on its side.

He was beside her before his name was past her lips. “Hold on, Anna. You’ll be across in a few minutes.” His gloved hand reached and molded her fingers to the wagon. She could feel the warmth of his solid grip inside the wet leather. “Even if the wagon rolls, you can swim to shore.”

Looking into his undoubting eyes, she had to believe him. “Thanks,” she murmured. He tightened his hand over hers for a moment before pulling away from her side.

Long minutes later Anna’s wagon climbed the muddy north bank. She jumped into the mud and helped push the wagon. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Chance riding beside another wagon, steadying it against the current. Without asking, she knew he’d be in the water helping until the last wagon was across.

It took all day for the Germans to cross the river. They were welcomed on the other side with music, food, and prayers of thanksgiving. The settlers of New Braunfels were happy to see more of their countrymen. They all talked and hugged as though they were one family. The women cried and told of their losses while the men smoked pipes stuffed with weeds and predicted the future. There was an old-world atmosphere that welcomed the newcomers like an open door and lifted everyone’s spirits.