Wed Under Western Skies Page 5

  “She’s awful good to us poor solitary men,” Dallas said with a grin. “And looking at Miss Jennie while we eat is no hardship.”

  “You need to be courting her,” Cameron said cautiously. “Before anyone else stakes a claim. She’d make you a dandy wife.”

  “And what would I do? Take her with me the next time I’m hired to take folks across the country? Being a wagon master is all I know, Cam. Been in the business for more years than I can count.”

  “Aw, you’re not that old,” Cameron said, grinning widely.

  “Some days it seems like it. I’ve about decided I’ll never have me a wife. I’d have to settle down in one place, anyway, and I’m not sure my wanderlust will let me do that.”

  “Well, if you change your mind, just look Miss Jennie’s way. I think she kinda likes you, boss.” Cameron grinned at Elizabeth, inviting her to join the bantering.

  But Dallas had other ideas and, with a quick swipe of his arm, his hat was removed from his head and he bowed to Elizabeth and issued an invitation. “Will you join me for supper, ma’am? We’ll let old Cam here fend for himself if he’s gonna be so sassy.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise at the sudden switch and she looked quickly at Cameron, whose face resembled a thunder-cloud. “I think I’ll let Cameron help me out of the wagon, and we can all walk over to Miss Jennie’s wagon together.”

  At that, Cameron motioned for her to rise from the wagon’s floor and as she did, he clasped her waist and lifted her to the ground. A bit dizzy from his handling and the rapid transfer, she swayed for a moment, and only his hands on her waist kept her on her feet.

  “Are you all right, sweetheart?” His question was low, his eyes holding concern for her; and his hands were firm about her middle.

  “Just woozy for a minute,” she said. “I’ve been resting too much today. I need a long walk, but probably Miss Jennie’s wagon is too close to qualify as exercise, isn’t it?”

  “After we eat, I’ll take you in a circle around the wagons,” Cameron said. “Let you get acquainted with some of the folks.”

  “As long as you’re feeling a bit puny, why don’t you make us look like two lucky gentlemen and take my arm, too, ma’am. If you hang on to both of us, you’ll walk easy, I think.” Dallas proffered his bent arm, and with a dark glance in his direction, Cameron did the same. Without dispute, Elizabeth placed her hands in the bend of their elbows and they set off across the wide circle of wagons.

  Jennie’s raven-black hair caught her eye, and Elizabeth almost laughed aloud. If Dallas were to lay claim to the young woman, he’d have a clutch of bachelors to fend off. For there were four young men gathered around her campfire, all doing their best to impress her and gain her favor.

  Jennie looked up as the trio approached and a smile lit her face. “I’ve been waiting for you. I made plenty for all of us.”

  “I can’t thank you enough for your kindness,” Elizabeth said, limping a bit as she began to tire. And it wasn’t even a long walk. How she’d make it around the outside of the circle tonight was more than she knew right now. Her grasp on the two men grew firmer with each step she took, and the sight of an overturned keg just ahead of them seemed like the answer to a prayer. Surely it was meant for her to sit upon, she thought, and Jennie did not disappoint her.

  “Have a seat, Elizabeth,” she invited, motioning to the makeshift chair. “These men can sit on the ground to eat, but ladies deserve something better than dirt beneath them when they accept an invitation to supper.”

  Cameron tugged at her and she released Dallas’s arm, turning toward the keg. With a gracious bow, Cameron seated her and then dropped to the ground beside her.

  “What was that you said about staking a claim?” Dallas asked in a low tone, settling on the other side of Elizabeth’s position. He looked at Cameron and his laugh was laden with sarcasm. “Looks to me like you’ve already made your move, Cam. Watch your step unless you want the ladies on the train to take a hand in things. You know what they’ll do if they think you’re making hash of Miss Elizabeth’s reputation, what with her sleeping in your wagon.”

  “Do you think I’d care?” Cameron asked with a cocky grin. “It would make me very happy to have the ladies after me to set things right with Miss Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth spoke her mind, something she didn’t feel comfortable with, but necessary if she were to keep her self-respect right now. “Miss Elizabeth is not about to be forced into a marriage, gentlemen. I lost my past just yesterday. I have no family, no future and no last name. Do you think that I’m the least bit interested in gaining a husband when I have so many other things to be concerned with?”

  Dallas looked chagrined. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I spoke out of turn. If anyone casts a slur on your reputation because of the current sleeping arrangements, they’ll answer to me personally.”

  “On the other hand,” Cameron began, “marrying Miss Elizabeth would be no great sacrifice on my part. I’m in the market for a wife, and I’ve known arranged marriages or even forced marriages to work out better than those with long courtships behind them.”

  “Well, I’m not in the market for a husband,” Elizabeth said stoutly. “I appreciate all you gentlemen have done for me, but I feel weary and battered by events I had no control over, and I fear my appetite for supper is gone. Please excuse me.”

  She rose from her seat and made her way back to Cameron’s wagon, his tall figure right behind her. She sensed his presence there, but stubbornly refused to turn and acknowledge him in any way, simply continuing on her way without haste.

  “Elizabeth.” His voice halted her as she would have climbed to the back of the wagon. Her heart was beating at a rapid pace and her hands trembled, failing to grip on to the tailgate of the wagon. She felt quick tears burn behind her eyelids and she bent her head to the high wooden tailgate, lest her tears embarrass her before the man who stood so near.

  “I’ve upset you, and I’m sorrier than I can say.” Cameron spoke softly, the words reaching only to her ears, his hands resting without coercion on her shoulders. “I’ll help you into the wagon, if you like. But I’d rather have you come back and eat something. Jennie is mad at both Dallas and me for upsetting you, and I fear my name will be mud with the rest of the ladies, too, if you don’t accept my apology.”

  Elizabeth felt the warmth of his big hands, knew his words were sincere and again realized she was alone in the world with no choice but to accommodate the man who had already given her so much. Not just a place to sleep, a bed to rest on and the promise of transport to Denver at least, but his protection and the strength of his honor to protect her.

  The tears flowed, no matter that she blinked furiously and clenched her teeth in a bid to force them to dry up on their own and leave her with some semblance of dignity. It was not to be, for Cameron turned her to face him, his hands gentle on her arms. Indeed, if he had applied any force to his gesture, she would have fought him, but the knowledge that his broad shoulders would shelter her was more temptation than she could resist.

  Her head found a resting place on his chest and she heard the booming of his heart, a steady, reassuring beat that soon had her measuring her breath to keep time. The urge to cry was subdued as she shuddered, and then placed her hands on his upper arms. The muscles there flexed against her palms, and then relaxed, as though he would not allow her to fear the power contained in his body.

  His hand held a clean kerchief and once more he used it with care, wiping her eyes and cheeks, then handing it to her. Again, blowing her nose seemed an intimate act to perform in front of a man, she thought, but it was fast becoming a necessity. She turned in his embrace and finished removing the signs of her tears, then spoke aloud the words that had been nagging at her for several minutes.

  “I’m sorry, Cameron. I’m sorry I walked away and insulted Jennie, when she’d been so nice to me. And Dallas, too. He was kind and I appreciate it, but right then I felt surrounded, as if I were being forced i
nto a decision I’m not ready to consider.”

  “Things are different out here, Elizabeth. I don’t know where you came from, but I’ll lay odds it was one of the cities back East. Men have the privilege of courting a lady there, of spending months preparing their bid for her hand in marriage. That doesn’t apply on a wagon train. There’s a whole different set of rules, and they’ve been put in place mainly for the protection of the women.” His hands turned her again to face him.

  “I don’t think I understand,” she whispered, aware of the male scent of the man who held her. His shirt held the wind in its very fabric, the smell fresh and clean. Wrinkled it might be, but the buttons almost strained to hold together in front, and the material was smooth against his chest. A scent of leather and another of horseflesh rose to tempt her and she burrowed her face against him.

  “A woman isn’t safe in this country without a man to protect her,” he said firmly. “That’s first and foremost, and a woman is beyond reach for the other men on a wagon train if she has a husband. For the most part, the bachelors will give her a wide berth, leave her alone, in other words. She’s off-limits and they know it.”

  “And in my situation?”

  “You’re up for grabs right now,” Cameron said harshly.

  She felt the words reverberate in his chest, and sensed the anger he strove to contain. “Are you upset with me?” she asked, lifting her head to peer up at him.

  “No. Not even a little bit. I’m just wanting to keep you safe, and I can’t keep you in my wagon where I can watch over you when you’re an available woman. If we’re not careful, we’re gonna ruin your reputation. Especially if you continue staying with me. And I don’t intend to make any changes in that arrangement.”

  Elizabeth pressed her palms against his chest and released herself from his embrace. “Where else would I go? Is there another wagon with just women, somewhere I can ride until we reach a town?”

  “Denver is the next city we’ll see. And to answer your question, there isn’t anywhere else for you to stay, unless you choose another man to look after you.”

  “I don’t want another man,” she protested.

  “There’s just one problem. You may already be married, you know. If that circle of gold you have around your neck is your wedding band, you may have a husband somewhere.”

  “Maybe I’m a widow,” she said. And yet, she found no memory of another man in her past. And surely she would remember something so important. She knew she had a father; she’d almost been able to hear his voice speaking. And if she’d had a husband, surely his memory would override that of her parent. The gold band seemed to burn against her chest, tucked safely inside her bodice, out of sight. She felt as if she’d worn it all her life, and yet had no memory of a man’s arms holding her, his hands touching her.

  “You’ll have to make up your mind, Elizabeth. Probably sooner than later. A couple of days is about all you’ll have before the ladies make a big production out of this. They’ll be after you to take a husband.”

  “Would you like me to go somewhere else to sleep?”

  “Now you know better than that. I’ve already made that clear. I’ll be underneath the wagon, and if you need me for anything, I’ll be close at hand. I don’t want you looking for another place to sleep.”

  His hands circled her waist and he lifted her from the ground, high enough for her to climb into the wagon. “Do you need to go for a walk first?” he asked, couching his offer in such a way so as not to embarrass her.

  “Later, after dark. I just want to lie down now.” She moved forward in the wagon, seeking out the feather tick she’d used as a bed. Shaking it to fluff the feathers, she placed it back on the floor and sought out the pillow he’d given her to use. She had no nightgown to wear, so her petticoat would have to do. But for now she decided to stay fully dressed until such time as she found privacy in the bushes beneath the trees.

  “I’ll be back,” Cameron said quietly. “I’m going to bring you your supper.”

  She didn’t have it in her heart to argue with him, so only nodded as he spoke. The thought of food had lost its appeal, but she would not insult Jennie further by turning down the meal she’d prepared.

  Chapter Four

  The days went swiftly, with Cameron rolling from beneath the wagon to ride out each morning with Joe, scouting out their path for the day. Joe kept both of the scouts’ horses tied behind the wagon he rode in, and Cameron tended the gelding’s needs, carrying food to him nightly, when the grazing seemed sparse.

  Elizabeth slept lightly, and so did not miss his grumbles as he readied himself for the day, struggling to don his trousers just inches below her bed in the wagon. She watched from behind the white canvas covering as he splashed water on his face, ran long fingers through his hair and shook the excess from him as might a dog fresh from the creek.

  Once he and Joe had vanished west of the circle of wagons, Elizabeth arose and donned the clothing she had available. Jennie, true to Cameron’s assuring words, had donated a dress to Elizabeth, allowing her to change from and then wash the single dress she owned. Cameron’s sewing kit and the sheet were rapidly coming together to form a dress for her, though it seemed that white was not a good choice for clothing on this trip. It would require almost daily dousing in water and the use of a scrub board, one of which Cameron had brought along for his own use.

  Elizabeth looked down at herself and bit her lip in frustration. This was the sixth day she’d spent with the man and the other members of the group, and unless they found a stream deep enough for her to submerge her body, she might never feel clean again. The memory of sitting in a deep tub of warm water swam in her memory, along with the feel of a large towel that she used to scrub the dampness from her skin.

  “Daddy.” It was a whisper, sent into the unknown, an appeal perhaps that her missing parent would somehow hear her and answer her plea. She searched her mind again for some small glimpse of his face, wondering if he were handsome, or rugged and possessed of harsh features. If he weren’t dead she might run into him in Denver, Elizabeth thought, and never even recognize his face, and that alone was enough to fill her with despair.

  A faint rustle at the back of the wagon caught her attention, and she busily buttoned the bodice of her dress, the same one she’d worn yesterday. She’d wash it tonight when they found a place to circle the wagons. For now, she concentrated on looking decent and well covered, lest a visitor pop her head into the back of the wagon.

  But it was no woman who appeared as Elizabeth buttoned the final mother of pearl fastening on her dress. Joe rapped sharply on the wagon bed and called her name, deliberately looking toward the south, away from the place where she had slept.

  “Miss Elizabeth, Cam said to ask if you’d try to put together some breakfast for him if I lit a fire for you. Are you up?”

  “Up and dressed, Joe,” she said, grinning as she considered the task ahead. “I’ll scout around in here and see what I can find to cook.”

  “Cam said to tell you there’s a slab of bacon hanging outside the wagon. You’ll have to wipe it off, get the dust washed away, and I’ve brought you three eggs from Jennie. She has a little coop of chickens on her wagon and was agreeable to selling some for Cam’s breakfast.”

  Excitement rose in Elizabeth, and in moments she had pulled her shoes on and made her way to the back of the wagon. A box in the corner opened readily and tin plates and mugs rested within, along with a small assortment of forks and spoons. On the frame overhead she found a skillet hanging, and made ready to climb from the wagon. The towels she had used and rinsed out during the past days were dry and folded and she dampened one in a small pan of water, drained from Cameron’s barrel.

  Before she wiped down the skillet and plates, and cleaned the bacon of dust, she would wash her own face, she decided. Taking up the bone comb Cameron had given her to use, she lifted her right leg over the tailgate and began the descent to the ground.

  A strong hand
grasped her arm and steadied her, keeping her from falling, and she managed to land upright, wobbly and feeling a bit shaky as she brushed down her skirts and peered up into Cameron’s rugged features.

  He was grinning at her. “You pret’ near fell on your face. Good thing I was here.”

  Fumbling for balance, she grasped his forearms. “I didn’t expect you so soon. Joe hasn’t got the fire built yet.”

  “It’s built, just not burned down to coals yet,” Cameron said, looking her up and down as if he doubted she was able to do the chore he’d assigned her. “I’ll help you,” he offered, “just as soon as I take care of my horse and get washed up.”

  “I need to comb my hair, first,” she told him. “As long as the fire isn’t ready yet, I’ll spend some time making myself decent.”

  His grin displayed even white teeth, and a lurking dimple in his cheek was exposed by the movement of his mouth. “You’re decent, ma’am. What you’re going to do is make yourself prettier.”

  She blushed at his words. “You’re a scamp, Cameron,” she told him with a wave of his comb.

  “Can I do something to help over here?” Dora Perry asked, drying her hands on her apron. “I’ve fed my bunch, and I can give you a hand, if you like.”

  Her eyes scanned Elizabeth cooly, and whether she sought some signs of wanton behavior or truly wanted to help was not at first apparent. And her next words solidified that thought, her reproof offered in phrases that made Elizabeth cringe.

  “You shouldn’t be out here in front of all these men combing your hair, Elizabeth. Didn’t your mother ever teach you about propriety, about modesty?”

  “I suppose she did,” Elizabeth answered, aware that Cam had opened his mouth to defend her, and then fallen silent as she spoke. “The problem is that I don’t remember my mother, or father either, for that matter. If my social skills are not appropriate, I beg your pardon. My dress is covering me adequately, I think, but my hair is too long and messy to comb in the wagon. I’ll go behind the wagon to braid it if you think it would be more modest of me.”