Tender Touch (16 page)

“You can ask anything you like.”

“I asked Lucy Decker how to make her soda bread, but she wrote it down instead of telling me.” Dulcie blushed. “I can’t read, you see.”

“And you didn’t want Lucy to know.”

Dulcie made a face. “That Lucy, she’s such a know-it- all. You should hear the way she talks about your brother.”

Brianna frowned. “Yes, he has a wonderfully masculine walk, right?”

“Huh! If only that were all. She’s determined to get him to marry her. You should warn Columbus. Lucy told me the reason her folks decided to go to Oregon was because She’d caused a scandal back home. She had an affair with a married man and when he refused to leave his wife for her, she raised a real stink, even went to see his wife and asked her to give him up. Lucy bragged how she got that man to bed her. I don’t think she’d hesitate to use the same tactics on your brother.”

“Thank you for telling me. I promise, Lucy Decker won’t get her hands on my . . . brother, if I can help it.” Brianna smiled. “Now, Dulcie, I’ve decided I won’t read your recipe to you.”

The light left the girl’s eyes. “You won’t?”

“No. I’m going to teac
h you how to read it yourself.”

Dulcie’s eyes widened. “You mean…you’ll teach me how to read? To read anything I want?”

“That’s exactly what I mean. Lilith has some primers she brought along for her boys. I’m sure she’ll let us use them if I offer to help Francois and Jean Louis with their lessons. Maybe some of the other children would like to come too.”

“Oh, I’m sure they would, and the mothers would be thrilled.”

“Fine.” Brianna gave a brisk nod of her head. “It’s settled then. Come to my wagon whenever you have time.”

Clutching Brianna’s hands, Dulcie fairly bounced with excitement. “I can’t wait. Oh, Brianna, you’ve no idea what this means to me.”

With that, the girl raced off. Smiling, Brianna turned and headed for camp. She’d gone only a few feet before she rounded a clump of bushes and walked straight into Edward Magrudge.

His arms closed around her before she could back away. His dark ferret eyes glittered like black ice.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise. Real pleasant.” He pulled her tight against his thin body. The top of his head only came to her eyebrows, but that didn’t bother him any.

“Excuse me, Mr. Magrudge. I didn’t mean to run you over.” Her arms were trapped against his chest. She tried to push him away but he was like a boulder.

“You can run me over anytime.” Edward Magrudge licked his lips, his gaze on her mouth. She felt so good. This was what he’d wanted since the first time he’d seen her. The only way it could get better is to get the clothes out from between them so he could feel her bare breasts against his chest. Even if she weren’t Columbus Nigh’s sister, he’d still want her.

“Why don’t I just show you there are no hard feelings between us.” As his mouth moved closer to hers, he slid one hand down to her buttocks and ground his hips against hers so she could feel his hardness.

Brianna turned her face so his kiss landed on her ear. He laughed, but there was something ominous in the sound. Letting go of her buttocks he held her head still with his hand and put his mouth on hers. It was wet and tasted of tobacco spit. She held herself still, letting him think he’d won. When she felt him relax and give himself over to his passion, she brought her knee up between his legs.

“Damn . . . you,” he gasped as he clutched at himself, moaning with pain.

“Something wrong, Magrudge?”

Brianna whirled at the sound of Marc’s voice, coming from behind her.

Magrudge tried to stand upright. His face was the color of bread dough, his voice hoarse with pain. “Just teasing Missus Villard. Reckon she got the wrong idea.”

“You all right?” Marc asked her after the wagon master hobbled away.

“Yes, I’m fine. How
long were you standing there?”

“Long enough to see you give him what he deserved.” He chuckled. “I knew your brother didn’t like the man. Now I know why.”

“Don’t say anything to Col, please, Marc. It was a very . . . unpleasant experience. I’d like to simply forget about it.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” At the look on her face he shrugged. “All right, if it’s what you want. Come on, I’ll walk you back to camp. Col’s awake and seems to feel better.
I believe he wants to see you.”

Brianna dragged her feet as she followed Marc to the wagon. Being kissed by Edward Magrudge was as pleasant as jumping into a cactus patch, but facing Col wasn’t going to be easy either, not after what had happened between them last night. All the same, she longed to see him. The mere thought had her heart pounding. Was there no way to control her feelings for this man, a man she could never have? More spines, she thought. Nothing but spines.

Chapter Sixteen

The following day Nigh insisted on getting up. He was weak, but the headache and congestion had nearly gone. Determined to regain his strength, he rode the dappled gray the better part of the morning. While he rode, he admired Brianna’s proficiency with the whip as she walked beside the rumbling wagon and directed the oxen.

He had been asleep when she finally came to see him the night before, and when he awoke this morning, she was already up and out helping Lilith. All day long Brianna had kept the woman at her side. Like a damned chastity belt, he thought, cursing.

About mid-morning he gave up and climbed into the wagon to rest. When the train halted for the noon meal and Brianna climbed inside to fetch the food, she found him asleep, lying on his back, his head pillowed on one arm, the other curled around Shakespeare’s small body. The cat lifted his head, gave her a sleepy glance, then nestled down again and closed his eyes. She reached down to pet Shakespeare’s head, and found her slender hand clamped inside Col’s big callused one.

“Did you come to surrender?” His mouth quirked up on one side.

“Surrender what?”

“You. To me.”

Frowning, she tried to free her hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?”

The harder she tugged, the harder he pulled, until she found herself kneeling beside the bed. Finally she ceased struggling and looked him in the eye. He was grinning.

“I was just laying here thinking that you and me are a lot like the sun and the moon.”

Her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of that. His grin faded and his expression became solemn, his voice soft and deep and so sensuous she felt it vibrate deep inside her own body. With his free hand, he loosened the knot of her shawl over her breasts and slowly drew it off of her, letting it fall where it may.

“One guards the day, the other guards the night, and without both of them, the world would shrivel up and die,” he whispered, drawing her closer. “The sun and the moon belong to each other. The way you and me belong together.”

Her eyes widened. Her mouth opened, then closed, and she gave her head an almost imperceptible shake. “You’re insane.”

“Yeah?” He grinned. “Best humor me then. Never know what a crazy man might do.”

He looked so handsome smiling at her like that, all clean and freshly shaved. His gaze was so intense she felt the heat of it penetrate her skin. It flowed like lava through her veins, and into her soul. Breathless with anticipation, she said, “Humor you? How?”

He untied her bonnet and tossed it aside. “Kiss me.” It was absurd, she thought. She was a married woman. What if Lilith were to come to check on her and see Brianna’s brother kissing her the way no brother kisses a sister? The image of Lilith’s shocked face made her laugh.

“Think it’s funny, do you?” Putting a hand under each armpit he dragged her onto the bed, nearly squashing Shakespeare. With an indignant howl, the cat flew off the bed. Brianna laughed harder.

“I said humor me, not laugh at me.” He feathered his lips across hers, brushed his thumbs against the sides of her breasts. Her flesh ignited and her laughter ebbed away. “Time I taught you respect, woman.”

The world outside the wagon ceased to exist as his mouth claimed hers, taking, inciting, absorbing. Together they soared into the sky, the sun and the moon melded one to the other by a fire greater than either could resist. Col’s mouth worked magic on hers, teasing and tantalizing. Nibbling, until they parted for him. He delved inside with his tongue, savoring her flavor. His kisses went from feather soft to hard and demanding, then back to satiny soft.

Snared in a web of sensation, she could do nothing but respond as her body demanded.

“You taste like the moon,” he murmured against her lips while his fingers tangled in her hair.

Her laugh was brief and throaty. “How does the moon taste?”

“Soft, mysterious, elusive.” His tongue traced the outline of her ear. Then he grazed her lobe with his teeth, smiling when she shivered.

“And you are hot, burning, consuming. Like the sun.”

“You’re learning, woman. Hang with me while the sun takes you a little higher.”

His mouth blazed a trail along the sensitive skin under her jaw, then down the slender column of her neck where he dipped his tongue into the fragrant hollow at the base of her throat. She’d had no idea her skin could be so sensitive, or that lips could create such havoc. Then she became aware of his hand on her breast.

She froze, waiting for the cruel gripping pressure, for the pain.

“The sun has more than one way to give pleasure,” Col whispered against her lips, sensing her fear. “And he never gives pain. Not to the moon. His own sweet moon.” All she felt was the gentleness of his fingers as they moved lightly over her breast, circling, caressing, arousing. And the pleasure.

She moaned and he took the sound into his mouth, the way he longed to take her breast and suckle it. Ignoring the aching need of his own body, he strove to gentle her. To teach her to trust. To give. To love.

“Brianna?” Lilith called.

Brianna gasped and leaped to her feet. She stood in the middle of the wagon, her breasts rising and falling rapidly as she struggled for control.

“Can’t you find the food, Brianna? Is Col all right? He is in there with you, isn’t he?”

Brianna gulped and took a deep breath. “Yes, we were just . . . talking. I’ll be right out.”

Col swung his feet off the bed and sat up. His own breathing was still ragged. She snatched up the carefully wrapped food, cooked that morning, and started past him.

“Whoa.” He caught her arm, drew her face down to his and kissed her. Her lips were moist and puffy and incredibly sweet. “You’re the moon, remember that. You’ve nothing to be ashamed of and no one to answer to.”

“Not even the sun?”

“Not even the sun.”

He released her then. She stared at him for one long moment, her hair loosened by his hands, her face flushed and so alive with passion it was all he could do not to strip off her clothes and take her. Then she hastened outside. Several minutes passed before he was able to follow and join the others. Brianna avoided his gaze, busying herself dishing up cold beans and cornbread while Lilith filled mugs with lukewarm buttermilk. Sitting down next to Marc, he accepted the plate Brianna handed him, wondering if she was as eager for bedtime as he.

The Beaudouin boys rushed up, panting, their clothes covered with filth.

“Jean Louie, you must stop racing around like a wild Indian,” Lilith scolded. “You’ve got sweat running down your face.” She brushed at his shirt and trousers. “And what is this . . . powdered substance all over your clothes? Oh, even in your hair!”

“We was having a snowball fight, Mama.”

“Were having
.
.
.
a snowball fight. How silly, now tell me the truth.”

The boy glanced at his older brother who suddenly became very interested in the food.

Nigh chuckled. “Couldn’t be buffalo dung, could it, boys?”

Francois looked up, wide-eyed. “How’d you know?”

“You aren’t the first boys who figured out dung made good pelting material.”

“Buffalo . . .” Lilith’s mouth fell open. “That is the most revolting thing I have ever heard.” She leaped to her feet, grabbed each boy by an ear and yanked them toward their wagon where she fished out a clothes brush and wash cloth.

“What would Master Genot think if he could see the two of you?” Whisk, whisk. “Filth all over you. And talking like . . . like illiterate farm boys. You are Beaudouins, never forget that.”

“No, ma’am.”

“A Beaudouin only says ma’am when addressing a woman other than his mama.” Whisk, whisk.

“Yes, Mama.”

Lilith finished with Jean Louis and started on Francois. Jean Louis ran to sit beside his father while Brianna dished up his food. “Papa, Nate Goodman got to go hunting with his pa today. Will you take us hunting?”

“Yes, Papa,” Francois said over his shoulder while he scrubbed his face with the wet cloth his mother gave him. “Tommy Shorthill’s been out hunting with his father, too. He even has his own gun.”

Marc ruffled Jean Louis’s dark hair and smiled at his older son as the boy came to sit on his other side. “You can’t have a gun, but we might try hunting tomorrow, if Col feels up to it. We need him to keep us from getting lost.”

“Now, Marc, do you think it wise, taking the boys on such a dangerous errand? They’re so young.” Lilith tucked napkins into each boy’s lap.

Marc winked at Col. “How do you expect them to grow up, Lilith, if you keep them pinned to your apron all the time? Francois is ten, after all. Col, how old were you the first time you went hunting?”

“Don’t reckon I’m too good an example,” Nigh said. “Lost my pa when I was about Jean Louie’s age. Took me till I was thirteen to get enough money for a gun, and then it was only a rusty old musket. But there’s a lot to learn about hunting besides shooting a gun.”

“Like what?” Francois gave Shakespeare a bite of buttered cornbread.

“Tracking and setting traps. How to keep downwind and figure the most likely spot to find game.”

Jean Louis’s eyes grew large. “You mean tracking, like Indians do?”

Nigh’s mouth quirked up. “Yep, like Indians do.” Francois turned to his mother. “Please, Mama, say we can go tomorrow. I promise to be good and mind Papa and Mr. Nigh.”

Lilith frowned. She looked to Brianna for support, but Brianna was gathering up the empty dishes and seemed unaware of the conversation going on around her. “Oh, my, I truly don’t know.” She looked at each imploring face. “Well, I suppose, since Mr. Nigh will be along as well, it should be safe enough.”

The boys shouted jubilantly. Gobbling down their food, they finished their meal and hurried off to tell the other boys. Moments later, the report of rifle fire split the air, signaling the end of the noon break and time to get the wagons underway again.

Brianna and Lilith put the dirty dishes in the wagon to wash later. Col mounted up and rode off toward the rear of the train without a word. As she watched him go, Brianna snapped her whip over the oxens’ lumbering backs and thought about the night to come.

The mere thought of being in Columbus’s arms once more made her tingle deep inside. She had come to care for him; she could not deny that. Nor could she deny that she liked his kisses. But the thought of lying with him, of letting him do to her the same painful, degrading things Barret had done, filled her with terror. It would be dreadfully wrong, anyway. To lie with Columbus Nigh would be a sin. She was a married woman and could never belong to him. She should encourage him to court Lucy Decker. At least Lucy could be a wife to him, could give him children.

Brianna’s heart squeezed painfully. Her hand moved to the flat surface of her stomach as she wondered how a child fathered by Columbus Nigh would look. In her mind she saw a boy Francois’s age, tall and rangy and loose-jointed, his light brown hair sun bleached, his eyes like a summer storm. She shoved the image away.
Don’t be a fool. You can’t have any man’s child, least of all, Columbus Nigh’s
.

Nigh spent the afternoon visiting the wagon companies behind the Magrudge train. Some consisted of no more than two or three wagons, others of more than sixty. There were even small parties of men traveling only with packhorses or mules. He shared rumors, gave advice, swapped tall tales and asked for news from the States. And he watched, and listened.

Sundown found him squatting in the tall grass and scrubby bushes beside a stream, watching two men make camp. One of the men was small and wiry with a scraggly beard. The other was bigger, though several inches shorter than Nigh, and built like a bull, thick and chunky. Nigh recognized him immediately.

Barret Wight had a heavy hand with his animals. Just as heavy, Nigh figured, as the man had used with his wife. Nigh watched the man beat his mules and remembered the sight of that thick, fleshy body lying on top of Brianna. He remembered her bruises and her terror. His nostrils flared and his mouth became a hard, straight line as rage tangled his guts and knotted his fists. His gray eyes narrowed. He should have killed the bastard when he had the chance that day on the prairie. He should have cut off the man’s stinking privates and made the sonofabitch eat them.

The thought of his Brianna belonging to that animal, while Nigh could never claim her, burned into his heart like a brand. Had the country been less populated with emigrants, he would have been sorely tempted to kill the man when he had the chance.

***

“Oh my.” Lilith’s hand fluttered above her heart. “How exciting! New faces and a chance to dance. Brianna, we must get out our best dresses for the occasion.”

“I only have two, Lilith, and they’re nearly alike.” Fiddle music sawed into the night air as Brianna finished putting away the supper dishes. Lilith draped her drying cloth over the tailgate to dry.

“Oh, bother those old black rags. Can’t you wear something bright and cheerful for once?”

“You forget I’m in mourning, Lilith. Besides, I can’t wear what I don’t possess.”