White Flame (3 page)

How would Renny feel when they had to return home alone? Would things get worse? Like the ribbons that refused to stay in her sister’s hair, Emma fully expected Colonel Grady
O’Brien to slip out of his parental duties as he always had.

Derek stood on deck, deep in thought. He leaned against the railing and tuned out the shouts and commotion of the men working to get the steamboat over the sandbar. He had other things on his mind—like Colonel O’Brien’s daughters. What a stroke of luck to run into them. He planned to personally deliver Emma and her pest of a sister to the colonel, then bask in the old man’s gratitude. Frowning, he rubbed his smooth jaw. But would that be enough to get him the promotion he sought? The colonel was a hard man to impress. After all, Derek wouldn’t have done anything more than arrive at the fort on the same steamboat as the girls.

He narrowed his eyes and absently fingered his moustache. A slow smile emerged as he thought of his plan to win Emma’s love. As the colonel’s son-in-law, he’d have the connections he desperately needed. Anticipation lit a warm glow in his belly. And with those coveted connections came wealth and power.

Yes, Emma O’Brien was the answer to his problems. While he had no desire to marry, he was a man of great ambition. And the colonel’s daughter, with her clear, pale green eyes that could drown a man, creamy skin and well-proportioned figure, would serve him well. He grimaced. Too bad she had the colonel’s god-awful red hair, which meant her breasts’ tips would be a pale pink, not a rich chocolate-brown as he preferred. Ah, but their size and youthful firmness would make up for that defect. Besides, in the dark, he could pretend.

He allowed his imagination to go wild. Just thinking about squeezing and suckling that tender flesh made his body swell with the anticipation of bedding her. Damn. The need for patience chafed him. He hated waiting. He was used to taking what he wanted, when he wanted, but she wasn’t some Indian squaw who’d cower and do his bidding. He sighed; this time, he’d have to wed her first.

And therein lay his problem: he needed to coax Emma into accepting him as her future husband, and he didn’t have much time. In the two weeks since he’d come aboard, she’d kept her distance. Thoughtfully, he studied the working men. By the look of things, they’d be on their way sometime in the next couple of hours. Barring any more problems, they’d arrive at the fort within a week. But if the
Annabella
were further disabled? A glimmer of an idea formed. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a small gold nugget, then stared at it regretfully. But there was more where this one had come from. He wandered over to where two workers dressed in old threadbare pants coiled ropes.

Minutes later, the deed accomplished, Derek watched the two men he’d bribed head for the paddle wheel. He was a gold nugget poorer but if all went as planned, he’d receive his promotion to major. And once he was in charge, he’d step up his plans to rid the Black Hills of all savages. He fingered his last gold nugget. Soon he’d be free to get more nuggets and be rich beyond his wildest dreams, free to do what he pleased and go where he wanted. Forget the army.

And the women. Ah, yes. They’d seek him out.

Whistling, Derek ran his fingers over his moustache, then with hat in hand, he headed downstairs to the dining room. Someone needed to be on hand to comfort Miss Emma when she found out that the
Annabella
had a broken paddle wheel and would be laid up for another few days. Who better than the man who planned to marry her?

The next morning dawned clear and warm. Standing on the deck of the
Annabella,
Emma watched the half-dozen soldiers lead their horses down the plank from the steamboat to solid land then return to unload an old mud coach that belonged to the Frenchman. The horses, free from the confines of the steerage, pranced with eagerness as they were harnessed.

Emma turned to Derek. “I’m grateful you’re willing to escort us to Fort Pierre. Are you sure we won’t be any trouble?”

Derek clasped his hands behind his back. “A beautiful woman like you is never any trouble, Miss Emma.”

Beyond the bank lay a wild and untamed world. Emma frowned and plucked at her gloved fingers. “Is it safe to travel by coach?” Doubts assailed her. Captain Billaud had advised her not to leave the comparable safety of the boat to travel by coach to the fort. But if they waited out this latest delay, she feared her father would be long gone when they arrived. Then what? She had no intention of following him west to Fort Laramie through Indian territory.

“Be assured, Miss Emma, my men and I will see you and your sister safely delivered to the fort.” Derek glanced at her. “No point fretting your time away here when you can be reunited with your father before he leaves.”

Emma glanced at the bank. Renny had talked one of the soldiers into letting her ride his horse. Though Emma had her doubts about leaving the boat, time
was
of the essence. She had to reach the fort with no more delays and Derek’s offer to escort them seemed an ideal solution. Besides, her sister was thrilled with the prospect of sleeping outdoors. Picking up her valise, she nodded. “All right. I believe we’re ready.” Confident that she was making the right decision, she thanked Captain Billaud for the use of his coach then allowed Derek to lead her off the boat.

Three days later, Emma wasn’t so confident that leaving the
Annabella
had been the wisest choice; the interior of the coach was stifling, her emerald-green travel dress clung to her skin, and the dust of travel filled her nostrils. To top it off, the muscles along her shoulders and back ached from nights spent sleeping on the hard, cold ground and long days confined to the coach with nothing to see.

The passing scenery was all the same. Trees and bushes rimmed the river on one side, barren and depressing land stretched forever on the other. Rolling her stiff shoulders, she swallowed a moan then sneezed. Blotting her forehead daintily with a damp embroidered handkerchief, she wondered how much longer it would be before they reached the fort.

Renny turned away from the window. “Are we nearly there, Emma?”

Emma bit back a sigh of impatience and folded her gloved hands primly in her lap. “Good heavens, Renny, you asked that very same question not more than fifteen minutes ago.” Never mind that she’d wondered the same thing.

“But Emma, we’ve been traveling ever so long. Captain Sanders promised we’d reach the fort in just two days.” She wiggled on the cushioned bench, her skirts twisting beneath her.

Settling against the seat back, Emma frowned when Renny shoved her mop of tangled hair out of her eyes. Just an hour ago, the thick, dark strands had been confined to two tidy braids. “Yes, I know he did, my sweet, but that was before the axle broke. As much as I hate to contemplate it, I expect we’ll be forced to spend another night on the prairie before we reach the fort.”

She ignored her sister’s whoop of excitement. Except for being confined in the coach for long periods, Renny was having the time of her life. Emma bit back a moan of despair. If spending another night camping made her sister happy, she’d find the strength to endure
it…somehow.

Renny stuck her head out of the window and, after a few seconds, plopped back on the seat. “It’s so boring just sitting here.” She gave Emma a sulky glance. “I bet Captain Sanders would let me ride up with the driver.”

Emma begged the heavens for patience then adopted a no-nonsense look similar to the one her aunt had used. “Young ladies ride inside coaches. Besides, the captain’s men do not need to listen to your constant prattle.”

Renny crossed her arms across her thin chest and tucked her hands beneath her arms. Her jaw jutted out. “Aw, Emma—”

The young girl closed her mouth when Emma lifted one brow in warning. The two sisters sat in silence for several miles before Renny drew her knees up and rested her chin on them. “Emma? Will Father be angry with us?”

Emma kept her features carefully schooled in an expression of indifference for her sister’s sake. Grady O’Brien would likely be extremely angry, but she vowed to make sure his displeasure was directed toward her and not at Renny. She reached across the coach to pat her sister reassuringly on the knee. “Everything will be fine. Now, no more worrying.”

Renny’s lower lip trembled. “Father hates me.”

“Ranait! What a thing to say. Father does not hate you.”

Tears came into the nine-year-old’s eyes. “Yes, he does! It’s
my
fault Mama died. Jillyanne said so. That’s why he went away and never came back. He blames me.”

Renny’s distress and quavering voice nearly broke Emma’s heart. “Oh, Renny, don’t say such a thing.” Fury engulfed Emma. Jillyanne, several years older than Renny, was never happy unless she was making others miserable. And the girl’s mother wasn’t any better. A snob and gossip, she had nothing better to do than spread vicious lies. But anger wouldn’t help her sister now. Once again, Emma wondered if this trip would make things worse.
Was
she setting her sister up for a worse disappointment?
Did
Grady O’Brien truly blame his younger daughter for their mother’s death?

Staring into the eyes across from her, Emma knew Renny favored their mother in most of her features. Though Renny’s eyes were a bluish-gray, her mouth, nose and hair color marked her as their mother’s daughter. But the girl’s eyes were her father’s.

Clicking her fan open, Emma pulled from her memory an image of a tall man who’d been kind, gentle and loving. She recalled the bedtime stories, the kisses good-night, twinkling bluish-gray eyes and always, a tickle to the tummy that left her giggling as sleep claimed her. What was he like now? From his letters, she envisioned a stern and forbidding military man who was all business.

Emma sighed. Their aunt had always been able to reassure her nieces that their father wanted to be there but couldn’t because of his military commitments. But when Aunt Ida died, Renny’s secure little world had shattered. Nothing Emma said could convince her that she, Emma, would always be there for her. Renny wanted her father.

Her sister’s hurt and confused voice brought Emma back from her contemplations. “Then why did he leave us? Why hasn’t he been back to see us? He didn’t even come to Auntie’s funeral,” she accused.

Emma sighed. They’d been over this more times than she could count. She gentled her voice. “You know very well he didn’t learn about it until three months ago. Sometimes our letters take a very long time to reach him. Enough now. We’ll see Father soon.” She deliberately changed the topic of conversation. “I’ve been thinking. Perhaps we can buy a couple of horses
when we return. Would you like that?”

“Truly?” Renny breathed, her eyes bright with longing.

Emma nodded.

Renny clapped her hands. “I can’t wait to see Papa and tell him I’m to have my very own horse.”

Holding on to the side of the coach, Renny balanced on her knees and asked, “Em, are you going to marry Captain Sanders?”

The sudden change of topic and mood so characteristic of the energetic child caught Emma off guard. “Ranait, mind your manners! I hardly know the man. He simply agreed to take us to the fort.” Her voice sounded sharper than she’d intended.

“Well, I like him. He’s got horses.” Again, Renny shifted positions, this time to sit on her knees and peer out the window. “I see him.” She waved.

Emma wasn’t sure how she felt about Derek Sanders. Part of her thrilled to his attentions, yet she was afraid to let herself hope for his affection. Many other suitors had balked when they had found out that marriage to her meant taking on Renny.

Hiding her lower face behind her fan, Emma allowed herself a smug grin when she recalled several times that the prospect of raising Renny had sent less-than-desirable prospective suitors running. She sighed. Maybe, maybe this time, it would be different. Hope stirred deep inside her heart. Derek had made his intentions clear, even if he was getting rather pushy about it. Perhaps she’d give him a chance. She did find him attractive. Catching sight of his broad shoulders as he rode past, she waved the fan a bit faster.

Renny continued to bounce around. Emma drew her brows together in her sternest glare and snapped her fan closed. “Renny, do sit still. Young ladies don’t squirm and wiggle about.” As usual, her reprimand fell on deaf ears. The girl’s youthful energy knew no bounds.

“Ranait!”

“Oh, Emma, you sound just like Aunt Ida.” Renny flounced back against the leather seat with a pout. But a half hour later, the young girl’s eyes grew heavy and drifted shut.

Grateful for the blessed silence, Emma closed her eyes and despite the jarring ride, she too dozed, dreaming about the handsome captain. She woke hours later when the coach came to a standstill.

Glancing out of the window, she saw Derek approaching. When the door opened, she sighed in relief. “Are we stopping for the night?”

He nodded and held out his gloved hand. Emma gratefully accepted his assistance from the torturous confines of the coach. Renny jumped down on her own, wide-awake and chittering like a magpie.

Leaving the men to set up camp, Emma walked down to the river, easing the tightness from her legs and back. After finding some concealing bushes to take care of her needs, she went to the water’s edge and knelt down to splash the cool, revitalizing water on her face and neck. She rubbed her aching shoulders, longing for a nice hot soak in a tub. She was sick of traveling. Sick of wearing the same dress.

She brushed at the dirt and wrinkles lining her green dress, but it didn’t help. Now she wished she’d kept more than two changes of clothing with her, but she hadn’t expected further delays. Sitting back on her heels, she tried to still her impatience. This whole trip had been fraught with delays from the very beginning. What was another day or two?

Enjoying her solitude, she luxuriated in the peace and quiet. Across the river, a flock of birds hidden in the treetops took to the air in wild chattering flight. Her tired gaze lowered to the
deep shadows across the river. She let out a sharp gasp when Indians on horseback emerged from the shadows. Frightened by their sudden appearance, Emma jumped to her feet, picked up her skirts and ran back to camp.

“Derek!” Her voice squeaked with fright. “Look!” Pointing, she pulled his arm, interrupting his conversation with two of his men.

Derek took one look at the approaching visitors and swore. He pulled her behind him. “What the hell does
he
want?” He signaled his men. Rifles were drawn.

“You know him?” Emma’s voice quavered when one of the savages dismounted and approached. The other four remained on horseback a short distance away.

Derek kept his gaze trained on the approaching Indian. “I know him. Wait here.” He handed her over to a young private named Edmond who stepped in front of her, his body shielding hers. Another soldier joined them.

Nervous and afraid, Emma glanced around. Renny, where was she? She breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted the child surrounded by three soldiers, all of whom had their rifles trained on the group of intruders. She returned her attention to Derek and the Indian. Fear trailed down her spine. What did these savages want? Seconds ticked into long, agonizing minutes. Emma peeked between her two guards’ shoulders at the rag-tag group of Natives.

Never had she seen such a frightening sight. Their hair hung down over their shoulders in dull, stringy strands and their bodies bore several days’ worth of dirt and grime. Faced with such sinister-looking savages, she dearly regretted leaving the comparative safety of the
Annabella.

But she didn’t have time to bemoan the vulnerable position in which she’d put herself and Renny. Heated shouts filled the air as an argument broke out between Captain Sanders and the warrior. When the fierce-looking savage glanced at her and pointed, she shivered, instinctively sensing that he wanted
her.

Derek shook his head, his hand going to the pistol he wore around his waist. After a final spat of words, the angry warrior mounted his horse. With a harsh shout, he shook his fist in the air and glared at them through hate-filled eyes. Emma breathed a sigh of relief when he rode off.

After the Indians crossed the river and melded into the lengthening shadows, Derek rejoined her. “It’s all right, Miss Emma. They’re gone.” He reached for her and drew her into his arms.

Instead of feeling comforted by his embrace, a feeling of suffocation assailed her. Derek’s bold attentions since leaving the steamboat had grown from flattering to tedious, increasing to the point where she felt uncomfortable and rushed. She didn’t understand her conflicting emotions. She pulled free but, not wanting to hurt his feelings, laid a trembling hand on his arm. “What did they want?”

“Not to worry, Miss Emma. Just a bunch of beggars. I sent them away. They won’t bother us again.”

“Are you sure? Why was he pointing at me?”

Derek patted her hand then carried her fingers to his lips. “My dear, these are savages. They probably haven’t seen a white woman before. Now, don’t worry none. I won’t allow anything to happen to the woman I hope to marry soon. Trust me, Emma. I’ll take good care of you.”

Emma hid her impatience at his assumptions. She hated feeling helpless and dependent on Derek, but until they reached the fort, both her life and Renny’s rested in his hands. Though she felt far from reassured, she forced a smile. “Thank you, Captain. I do appreciate all you’ve done for us.”

She turned to go, but Derek pulled her back to him. His hands cupped her face. His head lowered.