Prince Charming (51 page)

Hunter caught up with them just as they were boarding the riverboat called the
Midnight Blue
. Taylor had chosen the larger more spacious riverboat because it carried both passengers and cargo. The cost for a cabin was an exorbitant one hundred and twenty-five dollars, which she was happy to inform Hunter when he tried to get her to turn back.

Lucas's friend had developed a rather severe twitch in his cheek by the time she finished explaining her plan to raise the children in Redemption. Then he tried to drag her, Victoria, and the three little ones back to the train station.

He didn't care how much money she'd spent. He suggested she throw all her money away. She wasn't going to need it once Lucas caught up with her. Dead women, he told her with a glare, didn't need cash.

Taylor wasn't impressed with his scare tactics. “You can either assist us or you can leave us,” she announced. “We would dearly love to have your company,” she graciously added. “Isn't that right, Victoria?”

Her friend snorted. Hunter's face started to turn red. Victoria marched up to him, folded her arms across her noticeably expanding middle, and said, “Either way, we're going to Redemption.”

Taylor was praying he would decide to stay. They could certainly use his help, his strength, and his protection. She nudged Victoria in her side to get her to quit glaring at Hunter.

Victoria wasn't going to back down. “Yes, we would appreciate your company,” she said. “But . . .”

“You're going either way, right?” Hunter snapped.

She nodded. He knew when he was beat. He threw up his hands in despair and then went to secure a cabin for himself.

Late that evening, after Taylor and the children had gone to sleep, Victoria went up on deck to get some fresh air. Hunter's room was directly across from hers. As soon as he heard her door open and close again, he followed the woman. He wanted to make certain she stayed out of trouble. She was a good-looking woman and would certainly attract attention. For the cost of just twenty-five dollars, anyone could secure passage on the riverboat, provided he was willing to sleep up on deck and bring his own supply of food. Men with unsavory backgrounds who traveled the river from town to town looking for easy money would find Victoria a sweet little morsel. She was too much of a lady to know how to ward off the drunken ones. She'd get into trouble all right. She was also Taylor's friend, which meant she didn't have a lick of sense either, and until Lucas caught up with them, Hunter felt it was his duty to look out for her.

Victoria was leaning against the railing looking up at the stars. There were two men sitting on the deck at the far end of the rail, smoking cigars and watching her. She didn't seem to notice her audience. One of the men started to stand. Hunter moved so that he stood between Victoria and her gawking admirers. The man sat back down again.

He couldn't blame them for looking. Victoria was a sight to behold tonight. She'd taken all those pins out of her hair and left the curls unbound. She looked beautiful. He had to remind himself he didn't like the woman. It didn't work. He still wanted to run his fingers through her thick, fiery curls.

“You shouldn't be up here alone, Victoria.” He deliberately made his voice mean so he'd scare some sense into her.

“Have you ever seen so many stars, Mr. Hunter?”

“Yes,” he answered. He stopped himself from smiling. “When did you decide not to be afraid of me?”

She didn't look at him when she gave him her answer. “When I realized you were a little afraid of me.”

He leaned against the rail and looked up at the heavens. “You've got it all wrong, lady. I've never been afraid of you.”

She wasn't going to argue with him. The night was too lovely to be marred by bickering. She propped her elbows on the edge and looked out into the night.

“Captain says we'll make a hundred miles a day.”

“We'll have to stop every morning to take on wood to use for fuel. Because of the size of the riverboat, I imagine we'll need around twenty-five to thirty cords a day.”

“Will we be able to get off the boat and stretch our legs while the wood's being collected?”

“Yes,” he answered. “When's your baby due?”

Her eyes widened over the question. Mr. Hunter had obviously noticed her thickening stomach. “September,” she answered.

Neither one said another word for a good five minutes. It wasn't an awkward silence. Hunter shifted his weight, his arm touching hers. She didn't move away.

“Did your husband know you were pregnant before he died?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any idea of the hardships ahead? Giving birth in the wilderness will be difficult, Victoria. There won't be any medical help if it's needed. You'll be on your own, and if there are complications, there won't be a damned thing anyone can do about it.”

“Are you deliberately trying to frighten me?” she asked.

“There's time to turn back,” he countered. “I'm trying to make you realize you'll be better off in the city.”

He sounded as though he really cared about her. Victoria started feeling guilty because she'd lied to him about having a husband. Hunter was a good, honest man. It wasn't right for her to deceive him. She'd seen the way he helped Mr. Ross search for the children.

She lied because she didn't want him to think ill of her. And that only made her guilt worse. Her own reaction to Hunter confused her. His opinion mattered more than she wanted to admit. She was drawn to him and thought perhaps it was because he was so strong. She always felt so unsure of herself. He was a commanding figure, intimidating really, with those dark eyes and that brooding look. His hair was long, almost shoulder length, and the color was as black as a panther's. He reminded her of the magnificent cat, for he moved with the same grace.

Victoria didn't realize she was staring at him until he pointed out her rudeness. She apologized. “Mr. Ross mentioned your grandmother was an Indian.”

“Yes.”

“I was wondering . . .”

“Yes?”

“Are all Indians as handsome as you are?”

She blushed as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She felt foolish and ignorant. She was an unmarried, pregnant woman. She should have known better than to act like a silly schoolgirl. “I shouldn't have said that to you. It was terribly forward of me. I meant no harm,” she added in a rush. “And you must surely be used to hearing women tell you . . .”

“Was your husband handsome?”

Hunter didn't know why he was so curious about the man she'd been married to, and he knew he shouldn't be asking her questions about him. She was still in mourning, for God's sake, and here he was prodding at her to dredge up painful memories.

“He wasn't handsome,” she answered. “But love is blind according to William.”

“He said that?” he asked, jumping to the conclusion William was her late husband. “I'm not so certain that's true.”

“Of course it's true. William wrote it down.”

He shrugged. She asked him a question then. “Do you care what other people think about you?”

“No.”

“I do,” she admitted. “Some of the time,” she hastily qualified. “And I only care what certain people think of me.”
And so I lie,
she thought to herself. She let out a sigh. She suddenly wished she hadn't told Hunter she was married.

“ ‘My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent,' ” she whispered, repeating one of her favorite quotes from Shakespeare.

“What did you say?”

She repeated the quotation, then added, “They're William's words, not mine.”

Hunter decided that the man she'd been married to must have been some sort of fancy high-brow scholar. She couldn't have lived with her husband very long. She wasn't old enough. But she'd certainly loved him. Why else would she have memorized everything he'd ever said to her. The longer he stood there staring at her, the more she quoted the Englishman.

“It won't matter that you're in mourning,” he warned her. “Men will come calling. They'll fight each other to win your hand.”

“I'm never getting married.”

“Don't you mean you're never getting married again?”

“Yes, of course,” she blurted out. “Again.”

She sounded vehement. He wanted to argue with her. Just because she had loved one man so passionately didn't mean she couldn't love again.

“Women are scarce where you're going,” he pointed out. “Hell, people are scarce. You're going to get lonely. I'd wager you'll be married in a year. Mark my words.”

She let out an inelegant snort. Then she turned the topic. “Are there many women in Redemption?”

“Not living in the town,” he answered. “But there are two a day's ride away.”

He didn't look like he was jesting with her. “Just two?” she asked.

“Ma Browley and her sister, Alice Browley. They're both pushing sixty.”

“What about homesteaders?”

“What about them?”

She let out a sigh. Mr. Hunter was starting to get edgy. She wondered what had caused the change in his mood. He'd been perfectly pleasant for several minutes. Now he was becoming surly again.

“You'll probably die out there.”

“Perhaps I will,” she agreed. “What does it matter to you?”

“It doesn't.”

She straightened away from the railing. “I'm a strong woman, Mr. Hunter. You might be disappointed.”

She left him leaning against the railing and went back to her cabin.

The days and nights followed a set pattern. Every morning, the
Midnight Blue
stopped to take on the day's wood supply. The captain was usually able to purchase the cords they would need from enterprising families who had already cut and stacked the wood. Other days, the male passengers were asked to help with the cutting and the carrying.

The children were allowed to leave the riverboat and play along the shoreline. Hunter put a stop to the activity a few days later. He gave Taylor a one-word explanation: snakes. She immediately took the little ones back on board.

Hunter had his hands full watching out for the two women. They were too damned pretty for their own good. They attracted attention the way dogs attracted fleas. Thankfully Taylor was usually worn out by suppertime. She went to bed when the children did. Victoria was the problem. She was restless at night and liked to go up on deck. Hunter always followed her, and they always ended up in an argument. Inevitably she went back to her cabin in a huff. And that was fine with him. He had had his fill of all the clever little sayings her William had said to her. The man sounded like a pompous ass to him. Hunter never much cared for flowery language. If you had something to say, then say it.

It was a sunny Monday afternoon when Hunter notified the captain they would be leaving the riverboat the next morning. Then he went to tell Taylor to have her bags packed and ready.

“But we aren't even close to Fort Benton yet,” she informed him.

It only took him a second or two to realize she wasn't jesting with him. Then he became furious with her. “You planned to go all the way to Fort Benton and then by wagon to Redemption?”

Taylor rushed over to her valise and pulled out her map. She waved the paper in front of Hunter's face. “According to my map, we must go to Fort Benton and then we backtrack.”

He snapped the map out of her hand and looked at it. Whoever had drawn the thing had to have been drunk. There were forts all along the Missouri, but only one had been named and marked.

“Did you want to backtrack over a hundred miles?”

“No, of course not, but without proper trails, I thought . . . Do you mean we could take a shortcut?”

Hunter turned around and started for the door. He knew if he stayed a minute longer, he'd start shouting at her. The woman didn't even know where she was going.

“Be ready,” he muttered on his way out the door.

The following morning, while Taylor kept watch over the children, the crew of the
Midnight Blue
unloaded their horses, wagon, trunks, crates, and valises. Hunter counted their supplies and decided they were going to need a second wagon. He found a suitable one in Jilly Junction. He separated the weight between the two wagons. He wasn't happy with Taylor's selection of horses, but after looking over the stock available for purchase in Jilly, he decided they would have to keep what they had. Oxen would have served them much better for the load they had to carry.

The wagon ride to Redemption took over a week. The landscape was magnificent. The colors of spring were everywhere. There were brilliant pink, red, purple, orange, and white flowers sprinkled all over the carpet of lush greenery. Taylor was overwhelmed by the beauty of the wilderness. Every afternoon she would collect a sampling of flowers she'd never seen before, and at dinner, Hunter would tell her what they were called. There were wood blossoms, Indian paintbrush, arnica, and white monkeyflowers and others he didn't know the names of and so he called them just plain wildflowers.

There wasn't anything plain about the area. It was a kaleidoscope of color. Taylor felt as though she had been dropped into God's paradise. With each turn in the trail, there was something new and wonderful to see and appreciate. Sometimes she would become so overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of it all, her eyes would become teary and she would speak in a whisper.

The children were in awe of the animals they spotted. They laughed when they saw a mule deer because of his funny, giant ears. Georgie chased a whitetail doe and Daniel boasted he'd gotten close enough to almost touch one of her fawns.