Dorothy Garlock - [Wyoming Frontier] (13 page)

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock - [Wyoming Frontier]
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The quiet of the forest was awe-inspiring. In such a place the mind becomes a vast reservoir of impressions—shadows, sun-patterns, ferns, and the scent of damp leaves. The call of a whippoorwill broke the silence. Then she heard the whispers of squirrels scampering in the dry leaves and the scolding of bluejays in the upper branches of the trees. Surrounding Katy was an aura of timelessness. It was almost as if she were walking through the years to reach the present time. She wiggled her hand until her fingers could interlace with Rowe’s, and their palms come together. A warmth and sense of connection pulsed between them.
This had happened
before!
The instant flash of memory did not jolt her as it had that time before. She accepted it and wrapped her thumb more firmly around his.

He did not look down; she did not look up. They walked on.

Rowe stopped and put his lips close to Katy’s ear. “We must be very quiet from here on,” he whispered and motioned for Modo to stay.

“Why?” She mouthed the word.

“You’ll see.”

Rowe moved ahead of her, parting the foliage that grew profusely along the bank of a small lake. He got down on his knees and pulled her down beside him.

“Lie down and look under these bushes.”

Without question, Katy stretched out beside him and looked out onto water, so clear and still that the trees above them were reflected there.

“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, how beautiful! We had swans back home.”

“They’re not swans. They’re geese.”

She turned her head to look at him and found her face close to his. “Geese?”

“Wild honkers. Their necks are not as long as the swan’s. He’s the gander. He stands watch while his mate hatches the eggs. Here she comes with their little goslings.”

A large white goose, followed by six small, fluffy goslings, came out of the grasses that grew in the shallow water. The gander arched his neck and swam toward her. She went to him. They touched beaks, then he uttered a triumphant note that was echoed by his mate.

“They mate for life,” Rowe whispered. “For some reason, one of them could go no farther north to the nesting ground, and they stopped here. By the time the summer is over, the young ones will be strong enough to fly south.”

“Do you think one of them can’t fly?”

“It’s possible that one of them had an injured wing. If so, it’s healed now. I was here yesterday and saw both of them fly a short distance. They could leave now but for the goslings.”

“I heard the honkers flying over this spring,” Katy whispered. They were lying close, shoulders touching. “How did you find them?”

“I was along the creek when I heard the babbling cry of the gander warning his mate of danger. I knew there was a small lake here. It’s marked on my map. I blundered onto it and scared them. I didn’t want to make that mistake today. I wanted you to see them.”

“Someone from town will find them and shoot them.”

“Not from our camp. I’ve already told the man who hunts meat for the cook that he can come here to fish, but that’s all.”

She turned back to watch the little family. The gander was feeding on the grasses while keeping a watchful eye on the goslings. Katy lay still, suddenly terribly conscious of the long, lean body lying next to hers.

“You’re full of surprises,” she whispered, not looking at him although she knew his eyes were on her profile.

“Why do you say that?”

“I didn’t think you were the type to get pleasure out of something as simple as a pair of lost honkers.”

“There’s a lot about me that would surprise you.”

She turned her head slowly. Her round blue eyes looked into eyes so dark that she could see her reflection there.

“For instance?”

“It might surprise you to know that I’m using every bit of my self-control to keep from kissing you. And that I want you for my mate. I will stay with you, and protect you, as the gander stayed with his mate.”

“Maybe he was the one who couldn’t fly, and she stayed with him.” It wasn’t exactly what she had intended to say.

“Like you did when I was hurt and couldn’t help myself.”

“My helping you? Is that what’s given you all of these . . . crazy notions?”

“They’re not crazy and you know it. But no. I had these thoughts since I first saw you. One night I was bathing in the creek, and you brought the cow down for water. When you returned with the buckets, I followed you back up the path to be sure you were all right. I knew then that you and I were destined to belong to each other.”

Katy made a move to get up. His arms went around her but held her gently so that she could slip away if she wanted to. She sank back down, panic fading from her eyes. He lifted the heavy rope of blond hair from her back and looped it over her shoulder.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Katy. I’ll never force you—”

“I’m not afraid.” Her voice was not quite steady.

He turned on his side facing her and pillowed his head on his bent arm.

“Lie beside me and tell me what you’re thinking about when you look off toward the mountains with such yearning in your pretty eyes.” Wisps of inky black hair lay on his forehead, matching heavy, straight eyebrows and a neatly trimmed mustache.

Without quite realizing it, she turned, leaned on her elbows, and looked down at him.

“I’m thinking about a place where I can walk through a crowd without a hand reaching out to grab my arm, pinch my backside, or whisper a lurid suggestion. I’m thinking that it would be nice to wear a soft gown again without a pocket for the Derringer. I’m hoping that when Roy Stanton comes back he’ll not drag Mary and Theresa deeper into the wilds. And I dream of having a permanent home where I can lay out my ivory hairbrush and trinket box on the dresser scarves my mother embroidered—”

His hand moved up and down her braid while she was talking, and he brushed his face with the end that was tied with a thin faded ribbon when he said, “What else, Katy?”

“I want Theresa to grow up in a place where there is more than mud and rock and useless dreams of glitter.” Her voice trailed and she looked over his head.

Something was happening to her. She begrudgingly admitted that she enjoyed being here, but this other thing . . . this feeling of being totally alive when she was with him, this seeing his face behind her closed eyelids disturbed her. And why in the world was she babbling on like a fool?

Rowe sensed the change immediately. “Tell me about your home. I’ve been in Alabama.”

“During the war?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know it was laid to waste by the Union soldiers.”

“Yes.” There was no use in denying it. “A terrible waste. I was a blockade runner. I brought supplies to the Union Army through the port at Mobile.”

She was quiet for a long while, then breathed deeply. “It was a terrible war . . . for both sides.”

“War has been hell down through the ages.”

The geese on the lake began to babble, and Kate checked to see what was disturbing them. The parents were herding the goslings out of the water.

“They’re going,” she said absently, then looked at him. “We’d better go too.”

“Yes,” he said but made no move to get up. “It’s so peaceful here. Like we were in another world.”

“But we’re not. Mary will be worrying about me.”

“She knows you’re with me. Katy, kiss me before we go.”

She shook her head slowly.

“Kiss me or I’ll have to kiss you. Hadn’t you rather be in control?” His eyes on hers moved to her mouth. “I’ll not hold you.” He picked up her hand and began kissing her fingertips one at a time. Her eyes were peeking at him through that golden frame of lashes. “Kiss me, love. Don’t you want to?”

“You’re a very persistent man,” she whispered. “Kissing is . . . an expression of deep feelings.”

“I know.”

Katy lowered her head. Her lips touched his only fleetingly. “There,” she breathed.

“Do you call that a kiss?” His eyes were teasing her. “Can’t you do better than that?”

“I’ve not had much practice.”

“Thank God! Practice on me. We could become expert kissers in only a lesson or two.” He pulled her over so she was lying on his chest. “Someday we’re going to lie like this in a soft bed. Your hair will be loose—” His palm caressed the back of her head. “There’ll be nothing between us. We’ll be so close that you’ll not be able to tell where you leave off and I begin.” His voice was husky; his breath was coming faster. She could feel the heavy beat of his heart against her soft breast.

As if detached from the physical world, she fitted her mouth to his again and turned her head so that her nose lay alongside his. The silky hair above his upper lip tickled her nose. She grinned against his mouth, then raised her head to look down at him with merry devilment in her eyes.

“Your mustache tickles.”

“I’ll shave it off.”

“Don’t.” Her voice was a caress and she stroked the dark hair with the tip of her finger.

“Katy, get on with it. You’re driving me insane!” He felt her stiffen when his arms tightened, and loosened them to hold her lightly. “Kiss me, sweetheart. Kiss me as if I were your lover returned from the war.”

Katy placed her closed mouth against his again, not quite believing that she was doing such a thing. His lips were softer than she remembered. The silky hair of his mustache teased her face. She moved her head, sliding her lips over his. His parted; hers followed. Instinctively, she deepened the kiss and explored his mouth without haste. The tip of her tongue stroked his lips, sweetly, hesitantly, but did not enter his mouth. Never had she kissed with this freedom before. Her mind fed on the new sensations created by his scent and the taste of his mouth.

Her hand moved up to cup his cheek as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to be lying across his chest, her mouth against his, her breasts flattened against his chest. Suddenly she realized that she was spinning off into a world she’d never even glimpsed before. She felt as if she had become an extension of him and a wild yearning possessed her. A need to fill her lungs caused her to lift her head. Her eyes lost themselves in the dark, smoldering depths of his.

“Katy! Katy, my love. I knew it would be like this—” His voice came softly through the roar in her ears.

She stared at him in almost total panic, then pushed herself away from him and got to her feet.

“I’ve got to go.”

Rowe stood. “All right, sweetheart. We’ll go if you want to.”

He spoke to her back. Katy had already started back through the woods.

CHAPTER

Eight

 

Rowe held Katy’s hand and they walked back through the forest without speaking. They both knew that something irreversible had happened. Rowe had expected passion to flare between them, but even he was shocked by its power. Katy was surprised by the attraction she felt for this strange dark man, and her common sense fought against it.

When they came to the creek, he lifted her in his arms, held her against his chest, and waded across to the other side. She slid slowly down his body when he removed his arm from beneath her bent knees. He held her against him for a long moment, his arms wrapped around her, his cheek pressed to hers, then he turned his head and kissed her. She did not protest the kiss—in fact she welcomed it. She wanted to fill her arms with him, to nuzzle the soft, silky mustache, to feel the flat rough planes of his cheeks that needed shaving twice a day.

His lips caressed and clung with a leisurely sweetness that held her enthralled. Half-shut eyes looked into hers when he lifted his head. The pit of her stomach quivered with restlessness as her gaze wavered beneath his direct stare. Small puffs of air wafted from her wet and parted lips as she tried to regulate her breathing.

“You feel it too?”

“Yes.” The whispered word was an admission she hadn’t even made to herself.

“It’s something we have no control over, my Nightrose.” His lips touched her nose with a butterfly kiss. “Don’t say anything,” he cautioned, took her hand and walked on.

He didn’t speak again until they were going up the path from the creek to the town.

“I’ve another surprise.”

Katy looked up and let her breath out in a shaky laugh. “Another surprise?”

“Before we left, one of my men rode in to tell me a train of five wagons was headed this way and would be here by sundown. It’s about that time.”

“More miners?”

“No. Settlers. I had a sign put up on the Oregon Trail saying that settlers were welcome in Trinity.”

“What will they do here?”

“I won’t know till they arrive. Trinity needs all the people it can get if it’s going survive after the mine plays out.”

“You think it will?”

“Eventually.”

“Then you’ll leave.”

“I’ll not be going far. I like this part of the country.”

Katy and Rowe came out onto the road where a group of people had gathered to meet the wagons that were approaching. Katy tried to slip her hand from Rowe’s, but he gripped it tighter, refusing to let it go.

Theresa jerked loose from Mary and ran to Rowe. “Mr. Rowe! Where did you and Aunt Katy go? Do you see the wagons comin’? Will they have a little girl for me to play with?”

Rowe was forced to release Katy’s hand when Theresa wrapped her arms about his knees.

“I don’t know, honey. But we’ll soon find out.”

“I’ll even play with a
boy
if there ain’t no girls!”

Rowe laughed. “When you get older you’ll like boys.”

“I will not! Do you like girls?”

Rowe looked over Theresa’s head. His laughing eyes snared Katy’s. “You bet!”

Katy’s face turned crimson, and Rowe laughed aloud, gripping her shoulder with his free hand. When she became conscious of the speculative looks she was receiving from the small crowd of men, she was acutely aware of the fact that Rowe’s proprietary attitude toward her was creating the impression that she belonged to him.

“Come on, ladybug.” Katy grabbed Theresa’s hand. “Let’s get over there by your mother and out of the way.”

They crossed the road and stepped up onto the porch of the funerary where Mary waited. The wagons, pulled by tired teams, came slowly into town. Dust stirred up by the iron-rimmed wheels drifted in the light breeze.

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