Protected by the HERO (51 page)

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Authors: Kelly Cusson

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Short Stories & Anthologies, #Short Stories, #Romance, #Military, #Multicultural, #New Adult & College, #Single Authors, #Multicultural & Interracial

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“Emma, are you awake?”

The sound of Noah's voice coming through the arched opening of the wagon was one of the most beautiful things she had ever heard. Those simple words, as uncomfortably as they were spoken, meant that her rescue had not been a dream. Caleb really was gone and she would never have to face him again. Finally braving to open her eyes, Emma saw the silhouette of Noah's body against the canvas cover and slid a little closer to it.

“Good morning, Noah. I'm awake.”

“Good morning,” he returned gruffly, “We are near a river. I thought you might want to clean up a bit before breakfast.”

Emma looked down at herself and for the first time noticed the tears in her dress and the streaks of blood across her skirt from where she had knelt down beside Caleb. Ashes, dust, and dried blood coated her hands and she could feel tendrils of her hair clinging to her face and neck where they had fallen from the knot secured to the back of her head. She suddenly felt embarrassed that Noah had seen her looking like that. He had swept in and rescued her from what felt like the grip of death, but now that the danger was behind her, she didn't want this beautiful man to see her at her worst any longer.

Gathering a few items from the wagon, Emma climbed out and scurried toward the river. She found a place hidden from the wagon by a knot of trees and carefully undressed. The torn bodice of her dress stuck to the shallow cuts in her back where the shards of the table had bitten into her skin. Painfully, she pulled it away. Finally she released her hair and let it tumble around her shoulders before stepping into the water.

The river was cold as it swirled over her skin, soothing her wounds and filling her with a refreshed sense of life and energy. She unwrapped a cake of soap and stroked it across her skin and through her hair, luxuriating in the feeling of it cleansing her and taking away the final physical reminders of Caleb. When she finally felt clean, she stepped carefully out of the water, dried herself, and dressed in a fresh dress.

She returned to the wagon and saw Noah setting up a fire for breakfast. She removed the handkerchief and Caleb’s ring from her old dress, then placed that in a bag in the wagon so she could tear it up for rags later. Then she joined Noah by the fire.

“Let me do this,” she told him, taking a paper-wrapped package of bacon from his hand, “I left soap by the river. Go freshen up. You are covered in…”

She trailed off as her eyes traveled along the blood on Noah's shirt and the flecks on his neck. Her gaze lifted to his face and he stared back at her. Without another word, he nodded, grabbed his satchel from the side of his horse, and headed toward the river.

Emma moved quickly around the fire, finding solace in the familiar task of preparing hot cakes and frying bacon. When she was finished, she transferred the food onto a serving plate. She noticed that Noah had still not returned from the river. Feeling a moment of nervousness, she walked toward the bank. She was opening her mouth to call his name when Emma caught sight of him still standing in the water. The water rushed at across his hipbones, allowing her eyes to travel across his rippling stomach and smooth, chiseled chest. One hand rubbed the soap along his skin and she saw him tilt his head back, eyes closed as if enjoying the feeling.

Her gaze fell on a jagged scar trailing from his neck, down his shoulder, and over his collarbone. The beauty of his body was so different than Caleb, whose pale flabbiness made her shudder. As he moved, his muscles tensed and shifted beneath his lightly golden skin, bringing to life feelings she had not experienced in years.

***

Before Noah could notice that she was watching, Emma took a final admiring look at him and rushed back to the fire. Within a few moments she heard Noah's footsteps approaching and glanced up to see him dressed in a fresh shirt and carrying the damp towels and his dirty shirt. He dropped them to the dirt beside the wagon, then glanced back at Emma apologetically.

“I'll wash those before we head out,” he said.

Emma held a plate of food out to him.

“That's alright,” she said, “I can wash them.”

“I can do it.”

“I really don't mind, Noah.”

He took a few bites of the breakfast she’d made and nodded his appreciation. She felt a flush come to her cheeks and fought a smile curving her lips. They ate in silence for a few moments before Noah lifted his eyes to hers.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Emma was taken aback by the question. She couldn’t remember a single time in her marriage that Caleb had asked how she felt or showed any concern for her wellbeing.

“Better,” she answered honestly, “I feel like I got more sleep last night than I have in as long as I can remember.”

“Good,” he said.

Their eyes caught and held for a few seconds. Emma's heart trembled and she scrambled to her feet, taking the few steps to the pile of dirty clothes by the wagon. She scooped them into her arms and started toward the river without looking at him again.

“I'm going to go wash these,” she said.

Kneeling on a rock by the side of the river, Emma carefully washed the towels and Noah's shirt. She scrubbed the soap into the fabric to work out the dirt and the remnants of blood. When they were as clean as she could get them, she wrung them out and carried them back to their camp. Noah was no longer sitting beside the fire and his empty plate was on the ground.

“Noah?” she said, glancing around.

Emma walked around the wagon and out of the corner of her eye she saw a form inside. Climbing onto the platform she looked into the wagon and saw Noah stretched across the floor, his head rested on the same quilts she had slept on the night before. His chest rose and fell evenly as he slept, the relaxation making his face look serene and without the tension he always seemed to carry. She reached carefully into the wagon and withdrew the laundry basket she had used during her trip from the East. The basket also contained an old clothesline and pins. It had seemed silly to her when Caleb insisted she buy a new clothesline and pins when they settled, but now she was thankful for the supplies that remained in the wagon.

Emma climbed off of the wagon and went to work quietly hanging the clean laundry so it could dry in the sun, and then carried the dishes down to the river so that she could wash them. Noah was still sleeping when she returned. She loaded the dishes into the wagon as carefully as she could so that she wouldn’t disturb him.

The afternoon sun was overhead, and  Emma knew that when Noah woke up he would be hungry, so she walked into the tall grass beside the camp searching for edible plants. When she gathered enough that she thought she could make a pot of stew with some of the preserved meat in the wagon, she started back toward camp. Every movement she made, from stepping through the grass to brushing her hair back away from her face, felt like freedom. She paused to feel the sun on her face and let out a long exhalation.

“It's a beautiful day.”

Noah's voice made her jump slightly and she turned to see him coming toward her from the river.

“Yes, it is.”

“I looked for you by the river.”

“You were sleeping and I didn’t want to disturb you, so I went looking for some plants to cook for supper.”

“I'm sorry I fell asleep. I drove through most of the night and then sat up until sunrise.”

“It's alright. I can imagine you were tired.”

Their exchange was casual, but it felt like both were trying to control their words. Neither felt entirely comfortable with the other yet, but both seemed to realize they were in this together, at least for the time being.

They walked quietly back to camp and then Noah turned to her.

“We should be in the next town by tomorrow afternoon. Have you thought any about what you want to do from there?”

Emma felt a tightness in her chest. She had tried hard not to think about anything beyond the next moment. It was far too frightening to imagine what life held for her now.

“I suppose I should go back East to my family. I can live with my parents and find work as a seamstress. I'll just go from there.”

Noah nodded and glanced down at the ground like he was thinking about how to say something that was on his mind.

“I have been thinking about this all morning. I know there are wagon trains that could bring you back, but they do not allow single women, even widows. Even if they did, we will be traveling quite a ways together before we get to a starting point and at this time of year we may not be able to get you a place until spring.”

“I hadn't thought about that,” Emma said, the worry building even stronger inside her now. “What am I going to do?”

“Marry me.”

***

Emma was so startled by the response she could do nothing but stare at him, her mouth opening and closing a few times, but no sound coming out. She had dropped the edges of her skirt, which she had been holding up to cradle the plants she picked. The skirt fell, letting the plants roll to the ground.

“Oh,” she said and crouched down to start gathering the plants again, looking up at him as she did, “Marry you?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, leaning down to help her pick up the herbs and small vegetables she had found.

“Noah,” she started, but he cut her off.

“I am not expecting a real marriage,” he said hurriedly, “It would be an arrangement in name and law only. That way we can travel together, and should we not be able to get you on a wagon train heading back East before the spring, we would be able to find a place to settle.”

“And when I
do
go back?” she asked, standing again.

“I suppose we’ll divorce, and go our separate ways.”

She’d only just become a widow, been proposed to, and now was already discussing divorce. It was too much, and it made her head swirl. But she wondered about Noah.

“Were you ever married before?” she asked cautiously.

Noah looked at her with darkness in his beautiful eyes that told her he didn't want to talk about his past with her.

“No.”

There was a still quiet between them for several seconds before Emma spoke again.

“If you want to rest more, I can make supper.”

“There is plenty of sunlight left, and I would rather try to get a few more miles under us today. There are a few leftover hot cakes from breakfast and I saw some jerky in the wagon. Would you mind eating while we ride?”

Emma found it challenging and slightly sickening trying to eat while sitting on the bench at the front of the wagon, and was relieved when Noah finally relented to the setting sun and let them stop for the night. They took turns changing into nightclothes in the wagon and before she was even fully dressed, Emma heard Noah call to her from outside.

“You sleep in the wagon. I'll be fine out here by the fire.”

Emma finished tying the ribbon at the front of her nightgown and looked out at him.

“Do you have something to sleep on?”

“I have my bedroll.”

She ducked back into the wagon and emerged with two of the thick quilts from the stack inside.

“Take these. The ground is too hard, otherwise.”

Noah hesitated for a moment, then reached forward and took the blankets from her.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

Emma smiled at him and watched as he turned away and walked to a spot a few feet away from the fire. He lay his bedroll on the ground and then layered the two quilts on top of it. She liked how he looked resting on the quilt that she had once so carefully stitched together, and she carried that image with her as she pulled the canvas flap closed over the entrance to the wagon, and settled in for the night.

Just as Noah had predicted, they made it to the nearby town early the next afternoon. Everything looked worn and weathered, as if it had been there for a long time already, but Emma was happy to see stores where they could get more supplies, and a restaurant where they could eat a meal that consisted of more than what she could throw together on the trail.

“I suppose we should go ahead and do this now,” Noah said, glancing at the small town hall building. “Better give me your ring.”

Emma was confused for a moment, then understood. She took a long breath, nodded, took it off her finger, and gave it to him. Noah climbed down from the wagon and came around to help her down, resting his hand on her elbow to lead her into the building. She was wearing a dress and bonnet which concealed the injuries she had received from Caleb.

The ceremony seemed like a blur. She could hear the words being spoken, but they came at her like they were coming through water. Suddenly Noah was taking her hand and slipping the wedding band onto her finger. It was the same ring she had worn for years, yet it felt different now against her skin. The officiant looked at her expectantly, and she realized that she didn't have a ring for Noah. She dipped her hand into her pocket and withdrew Caleb's ring. Taking Noah's hand in hers, she carefully placed the thick band on his finger, letting her touch linger for a moment against his palm.

Their eyes met briefly and she could see the torment gazing back at her. Part of her hated herself for putting him in this situation and forcing him into an arrangement he so obviously didn't want, but if she wanted to get back home and reclaim her life, Noah was her only chance.

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