Jodi Thomas (4 page)

“The trip could kill more.”

Anna’s angry reply surprised him. “We will start today.” She was as stubborn as she was beautiful.

Turning toward her, he tried to think of a way to talk an ounce of sense into her.

The sight before him in the early gray light made Chance forget his words. She was sitting on top of her blankets. Her white nightgown was buttoned to her throat with lace and ribbons crossing back and forth in a latticework pattern. She’d pulled her hair over one shoulder and was combing out the night’s tangles with her fingers.

“I . . .” The vision before him was interfering with his brain. He’d lived his whole life without ever seeing a woman dressed like this. His parents had been poor farmers, and what little lace his mother made was saved for Sunday clothes. Anna’s gown had lace all the way down to the swell of her breasts. He tried to make his eyes move away, but they were caught in the lace along her bustline as surely as if they’d been tangled in wire. “I . . .” Chance couldn’t remember what he’d been talking about. He knew he’d been angry, but his anger was replaced now with a wave of another emotion.

Anna pulled the blanket around her. “Would you mind going outside while I dress?” Her voice was sharp and a hint of hatred colored her words. It was as though she’d looked at him and seen something evil, something poisonous.

Fire as hot as the Galveston sun in July inched up Chance’s neck. He couldn’t have met her eyes if his life had depended on his returning her stare. Grabbing his gun, he hurried out of the tent, trying to pull his boots on as he went.

Once outside, he wondered how to get through the day without making a bigger fool of himself. Around men he could hold his own, but he felt like a greenhorn around Anna. They might be almost the same age, but she’d been a married woman. Married folks knew about those quiet times between a man and a woman. To her, married five years and pregnant, he must have looked like the village idiot staring into a schoolhouse window. Hell, there was no telling what she’d think of him if she knew he’d never been with a woman. Yet, there he stood, acting like a kid and knowing that wrestling a longhorn was easier than talking with her, even if she was going to be his wife for a year.

Chance jerked the reins of his horse, Cyoty, and led the huge bay down to the creek. The half-wild animal was frisky and ready as always to prance, but Chance held tight. He’d named the horse after the Indian word meaning wild and alone. Sometimes he felt a kinship with Cyoty that was closer than he’d ever felt with a human. But this morning a herd of buffalo could have trampled him and he wouldn’t have noticed, for he was lost in his own stampede of unfamiliar emotions. As he brushed the bay’s shaggy mane, Chance fought the urge to confide in the horse as he had when he was younger. There was no question he understood horses a lot better than he understood women.

By the time Cyoty had taken his fill of water, Chance had made two decisions. First, he was going to treat Anna like she was his sister when he was around her. And second, he was going to stay around her as little as possible. He hobbled Cyoty so the horse could graze along the creek’s grassy bank, then Chance walked back to the camp still deep in thought.

As he neared the tent, he saw Anna standing facing the morning sun with her eyes closed, her auburn hair tied in a neat bun, and every emotion carefully hidden from view. She waited until he was standing beside her before speaking. “There is coffee in the main tent.”

The anger that had dripped from her words as thick as cold grease only minutes before was gone. Her voice was soft and kind and sounded as though she’d had a great deal of experience hiding her feelings. She took his arm and they walked to the main tent where people seemed drunk on the contagious excitement that sparked the air. Some folks were ill and many looked weak, but this morning everyone managed a smile. For today they would begin the last part of their journey to paradise.

Anna stood close beside him, introducing him to the few people she knew and translating when needed. Some of the older folks were determined to bring their native language with them, but many of the younger ones had decided to speak only English in this new land. Chance found their broken English almost as impossible to understand as their German.

“Good morn’,” said a tiny young woman, smiling at Anna and Chance.

The sight of such a slight woman on the arm of her huge husband made Chance smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morn—
ing,
” she repeated, practicing her English.

“These are my friends.” Anna leaned close to Chance as she introduced Carl Jordan and his wife, Selma. “They are from my village, but I didn’t know them until the journey.”

“They speak English?” Chance winked at Anna as Selma assured him that she did in words he barely understood.

The smile that touched Anna’s green eyes made his heart miss a beat. “Carl is very quiet. I’m not sure he speaks at all.” The laughter in her eyes and Selma’s long-winded denial left Chance with the feeling that Carl’s silence was probably more from lack of opportunity than from shyness.

“My husband,” Selma rattled in broken English, “is a carpenter and so he was allowed to bring two trunks.” She touched his arm with pride. “He can lift our trunk alone, but the one with his tools is very heavy.”

“I’d be glad to lend him a hand.” Chance nodded toward Carl and the huge round-shouldered man smiled.

As they heaved the trunk filled with tools onto a wagon, Chance decided he liked this strong, silent man and his wife, who was like a noisy bundle of cheer. He was glad Anna had chosen them for friends.

That was more than Chance could say for Walter Schmitz. The fat, middle-aged man had been watching them all morning out of the corner of his eye. Finally, he meandered forward.

“Morning.” Walter didn’t smile as he greeted them.

Chance nodded once, but he noticed Anna didn’t answer.

Walter moved closer. “How are the newly married this day?”

As he waited a moment for Anna to answer, Chance felt her hand tighten along his arm. He said simply, “Fine.” He didn’t like the way the older man looked down his nose at them as if he were lowering himself even to be seen talking with them.

Walter looked directly at Anna. “It is a sad day when the memory of an honorable man like my friend William Meyer is tarnished by his wife’s marrying beneath her within days after his death.”

Anna held her head high, and her fingers dug into Chance’s arm as he took a step forward. Walter quickly moved away into the crowd, a touch of fear in his eyes when he glanced back at Chance.

“Anna . . . ?” Chance said uncertainly.

“Forget his words,” Anna snapped, making Chance wonder how anyone could be so cold and so beautiful at the same time. Being around her was confusing him more every minute.

Within an hour Chance was given the solution to his problem. The Reverend Mr. Muller asked him to ride a few days ahead of the wagons as a scout. There were three other scouts, but a party of this size could use another man who knew the country and had a horse, and Chance knew the hills better than he’d ever known people. He welcomed the opportunity to be alone and agreed to leave as soon as all the carts were loaded.

As he talked among the others Anna never left his side, her anger now completely vanished. Now that he had been given a role, he found the people friendly and accepting. They were hungry for any news of Texas, and having a Texan among them made their dream seem more real. However, Anna’s nearness and the light pressure of her fingers on his arm consumed his thoughts even as he talked about Texas. Once, as he drew a map in the dirt showing several men where they were headed, he was rewarded with a brief smile. For a moment, Chance was so lost watching the gentle curve of her mouth, he couldn’t have answered to his own name. Another time, with several people watching, she brushed the suede of his vest with her fingers. Chance thought he might explode with the sudden pleasure her small gesture had given him.

By the time the last trunks were loaded onto the wagons, the sun was high, marking the hour of noon. Chance touched her fingers resting on his arm. “I need to saddle up and leave.”

He wished she’d look up at him, but her eyes were shaded from his view as she spoke. “I will walk with you to your horse.”

Chance glanced over to the trees where he’d hobbled Cyoty. There was no one by the creek and he knew they would be alone for a few moments before he left. His stomach was in a knot so tight the oxen hitched to the wagons couldn’t have pulled it apart. He wanted to be alone with her, but a part of him was screaming to run away before he tumbled into the bottomless depths of her green eyes.

As they made their way toward the horse, A nna asked, “Do you have enough food, coffee?”

Brushing the branches of a live oak to one side, Chance waited for her to pass. “I’ll be fine. How about you?”

They were in the shadow of the trees now, where light shone in thin sheets between the barren branches. “I can take care of myself.” Her voice blended with the sounds of the stream, shallow now in winter, and the faraway cry of a bird.

“Take care then.” He wanted to hold her close, to let her know that he cared about her safety, but when his arm encircled her shoulder he felt her stiffen. He pulled her closer, longing to hold her in his arms, but gone was the warmth she’d shown earlier; she jerked her shoulder backward as suddenly as though his touch bore the kick of a shotgun.

Her green eyes flashed angrily. “No!” Her hand shook as she pressed his chest, shoving him away.

“What?” Chance watched her in utter confusion. “What’s the matter?” Could she be that afraid of him? “I wasn’t planning on hurting you, Anna.”

Wrapping her arms around her waist, Anna backed away. “I thought you understood. There will be no touching between us.” Her voice was shaking as though he’d tried to molest her right there, not thirty feet from the others. “If you touch me again,” she whispered, “I swear I’ll kill you.” She hugged herself tightly.

Chance was more confused than he’d ever been in his life. “But all morning you’ve been touching me, standing next to me.”

“That was for the others’ benefit. We are alone now.” Her eyes were emeralds of fury, her knuckles white with fear. She studied him for a moment and seemed to relax slightly. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but there is never to be anything between us other than our original agreement.”

Chance slapped his hat against his leg and swore under his breath. “So that’s the way it’s going to be. We’re a couple when others are around, but when we’re alone I’m not even supposed to look at you.” He felt his face redden at the memory of the way he’d stared at her in the tent.

“That’s the way it’s going to be.” She held her head high in challenge.

Dear God, why did she have to seem more beautiful every time he looked at her?
The angrier he got, the more he wanted to touch her and the more she seemed to hate him.

Chance fought between the urge to grab her and kiss her, and the desire to turn around and leave her forever. Her softness had been so real earlier, and now her rage was just as genuine. He swung the saddle across Cyoty’s back. “I’ll be back in a few days,” he said without looking back.

He didn’t see the tear that stood in the corner of Anna’s eye as she watched him ride away. He was her only hope for the future, her only road to independence. Yet how could Anna tell him of her fears, not just of him, but of all men?

The two days of scouting turned into a week as Chance crisscrossed the land searching for the best trails. Although he slept in his saddle, ever alert to the possibility of danger, ever vigilant, deep in the corners of his mind throughout all his waking and sleeping hours was the thought of Anna.

Why had the way she’d held her chin so high at the wranglers’ camp made him willing to forfeit a year of his life to protect her? Especially when he should be looking for the renegades who’d killed his family eight years ago. He needed to think of his little sister, Maggie, and most of all, he needed to have nothing binding in his life.