Jodi's Journey (15 page)

“Look.” His voice held little patience. “I'm
not offering you a bed, just cover to sleep on. We have to get some
rest to catch up with the herd. I won't have you sick on me. Now
get under here,” he demanded, his voice holding no arguments. When
she didn't move, he added, “Now!”

With a frown bigger than the Red River, she
joined him. “Did you rescue me just so you could boss me
around?”

“Jodi, my patience is wearing thin. I've had
about all I’m going to take from you for one day. I'm bone tired
and not in any mood for some she-cat, so stow the claws. And yeah,
that's it, I like throwing my authority around, so remember that
next time. Look, your virtue is safe with me. You should know that
by now. I think I've told you, I like my women willing, if you
don't mind.” He built the same tent over them and rolled away from
her to get some sleep. She didn't move for a long while. Finally,
she rolled the other way and scooted up against his backside. She’d
barely lain down before she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

Afterwards, Hunt fastened the blanket around
her more securely. He'd placed the rubber slickers under them
earlier as protection from the wet ground. It was all he could do,
but it didn't seem to matter. She was out for the night.

Sometimes exhaustion was a good thing. He
chuckled to himself.

The next morning, he was flat on the ground
and she was nearly on top of him. The blanket was sopping wet and
the dripping from it woke her. One of his eyes popped open. She
scrambled to her feet, obviously embarrassed that she had even
touched him. How could women be so impractical?

He said nothing, but offered her some water
and jerky, and then they mounted up.

“You're a strange man,” she said after a long
silence.

“So I've been told,” he muttered thickly.

“Why'd you come after me?” she asked, her
voice full of curiosity. “I mean, you could have left me. You
didn't want a woman on the trail with you anyway. That's what you
said.”

“Now there's a question,” he resounded, as
though he couldn't believe she asked it in the first place. His
annoyance was mixed with a gentle understanding of who she was.

“So why did you?” she insisted, feeding his
anger.

“Did you want to stay and find out what Elrod
had in mind?”

She stammered, flinching, and sheathed her
claws. “Well…no, I mean. I just don't understand why you came after
me.” Her voice sounded squeaky. “Did you all draw straws or
something?”

“Yeah…we did. And I lost.” He shot her a
menacing glance. “It's simple. You are my wife, my responsibility.
I take care of my own.”

≈≈≈

“I don't belong to you,” she retorted, then
chewed her bottom lip and stole a glance at him. It unnerved her
whenever she looked at him for any length of time; he was such a
handsome man with his rugged good looks. It irritated her that she
found him handsome. His face was well tanned by the sun, his eyes
such a deep, sapphire blue with long, veiling lashes that covered
his thoughts from her at times.

His nose was long, but straight, and his
cheekbones set like granite. His jaw was always clean shaven, and
his hair, so thick and black that rode high over his forehead. His
hair was so shiny on a moonlit night that she could see the
reflection of stars in it.

“No, ma'am, you don't. At least, not for
always, but for as long as this cattle drive. Besides, you hired me
to take this herd through. You are part of it. I'm taking it
through.”

And that was the end of her questions for the
rest of the morning.

They pushed on, but they slowed their horses
by mid day so that they didn't wear them out, and by nightfall,
both were ready to fall to the ground they were so tired. After
Hunt saw to the horses and helped her build a fire, he decided to
find more meat.

He was gone a little while and it gave Jodi
time to reflect on the man.

She couldn't afford the luxury of caring for
him, so she had to shield herself from his charms.

She wondered about him. What had happened
during the war? Why had he been living in that shed? And why was
there such a contrast to the man she thought he was compared to the
man he was on the trail? Hunt Johnson was a man of mystery.

This time, he came back with a wild turkey
and helped her clean it so she could cook it slowly over the fire.
It smelled wonderful, and both of them wasted no time digging in
when it was finally done.

Again, he built them a blanket together and
motioned for her to lie down.

“Don't get used to me being with you,” she
said huskily.

“No ma'am, but we do have a hard ride
tomorrow, and it gets nippy through the night out here. And also, I
don't want anyone sneaking up on us and me having to go rescue you
again. So stay close. We'll be getting into Indian Territory
soon.”

“I've seen the signs. I was wondering when
you might mention them.” She nodded as she glanced about. “Do you
think we'll have trouble with them?”

“No, I don't. Not that I’m blind to the fact.
But, Indians are like bees. They are only a problem when stirred
up. And I don't intend to stir them. The Comanche and the Kiowa's
are the ones to watch the closest. If they are in need of horses,
they can be dangerous, especially if you don't bargain with them.
But I've found that the more you try to get along with a breed of
people, the better off you are.”

“You're a strange man…” she uttered almost
breathlessly.

He glanced over at her sardonically. “What do
you mean?”

“You hold little animosity. I mean, you said
your real folks were killed by the Indians. Yet, you hold no
grudges.”

“I was just a baby when it happened. And I
learned that life is full of the good and the bad. You can't hold a
whole race of people to blame for what a few do.” His expression
softened on her as she stared at him. “I'm a white man, but that
doesn't mean every white man is good either, does it?”

Unable to hold his gaze, she turned her head
away.

She lay beside him again, her back to his,
and secretly had to admit, at least to herself, that it was warmer
this way. But she wasn't about to enjoy it. Even so, her eyes
closed and, in minutes, she was asleep again.

Next day they were up before sunup. She
marveled at how peaceful she had slept.

Dawn was a beautiful time, and for a second,
she marveled at the heavens.

“That's some sky, huh?” He joined her and
their gazes locked again.

“My mother and I used to get up at dawn and
watch the sun come up. We would sit on the porch and peel potatoes
or knead breads and admire the beautiful morning. It was the nicest
part of the day….”

“What happened to your mother?” He asked, his
voice gentled.

“She caught pneumonia two winters before the
war. It was so strange. Ma hadn't been sick a day in her life. But
that was a bad winter. Half the community came down sick with
consumption. She was gone before we could do much of anything. At
least she didn't suffer.” Jodi's voice softened, and her eyes
misted.

Hunt put his arm around her shoulder, pulled
her close, and kissed the top of her head. Jodi didn't resist. She
needed his comfort.

After she made a pot of coffee and they
divided the last of her jerky, they saddled up again.

“Let's ride,” he said, gazing about the
horizon as though he sensed something wrong. It was too still. Even
the birds weren't singing this morning. As beautiful as the dawn
had been, the stillness brought a new tension.

For most of the morning, she took his orders
in stride and did exactly what he told her. But the silence finally
ate at her.

“Have you ever been a trail boss before?” she
asked curiously, her mind flitting from one question to
another.

“A couple of times before the war.” He
chuckled.

“What's so funny?” She asked him.

“Kind of late to be asking that question,
isn't it?” He smirked.

Jodi considered his words. Tormented by the
last few days, she wanted him to somehow dispel her fears. She had
been grouchy, but it seemed understandable since she had been
practically kidnapped by that bunch of jayhawkers.

“That old soldier back there”—she gestured—
“the one who wanted you to give them a cow? He talked about the
war. Said he killed his own brother. How can that be? How can you
kill kin? How can…”

As though she had hit a raw nerve, Hunt
flinched visibly and shook his head. “Look, Jodi, don't try to
rationalize war. War isn't easy an easy thing to explain, I guess,
especially for a woman. How can a woman understand when a man
doesn't? Sometimes you do things you don't want to do.” His voice
sounded raspy, as though his mind was in another place
altogether.

“Why'd you leave it? The war, I mean?” she
asked, waiting almost breathlessly for his answer.

“Now you ask that question. You'd already
judged me before. Why ask it now? Like I said, sometimes you do
things you don't want to do,” he muttered.

“You don't seem like a coward. I mean, you
fought Josh till you couldn't stand. You came after me, knowing
there would be trouble. It doesn't add up.” She needled him. “I'd
like to understand, but it isn't easy when you won't talk about
it.”

“I'd rather forget the war, Jodi.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Let's ride.” He rode up ahead of her, out of
the line of questions.

That evening, as they made camp, she
continued to ask questions he didn't want to deal with. She kept
on, and finally, he had had enough as he threw down his
bedroll.

He stretched it out and flung himself down on
it, ignoring her. But she followed, knowing he would insist she
sleep beside him. This time, she didn't balk. She beat him to the
draw. She crawled in right next to him and turned herself away from
him, sliding her back against his.

≈≈≈

He stopped to look at her, really look at
her. Without warning, he stretched himself across her, looking into
her eyes, and something in his gaze suddenly softened. “I guess
there's only one way to shut you up, isn't there?” he grumbled,
then leaned the distance to touch his lips to hers.

This kiss was different, Hunt noted
momentarily, until he realized she was taken so by surprise that
she responded. Her lips felt almost eager against his. He hadn't
expected it. Her lips were soft as a baby's bottom and sweet, and
he could tell by her breathing that she might be in over her head.
The way her breast rose and fell against his chest made him ache
for things that couldn't be. He had to be the one to call a halt.
Otherwise, he might take what she was offering and not look back.
Reluctantly, he pulled away.

Her eyes opened in complete shock, and for a
moment, she was speechless. He had to think quickly to dispel any
emotional outrage that he was sure she'd be feeling soon. So he
rasped in a hoarse voice, “Get some sleep. Morning comes early for
us.”

Like a stunned animal, she obeyed, silently,
motionless.

Unfortunately, Hunt couldn't close his eyes.
He stared down at her for a long while and realized that this
woman, no matter how much trouble, had come to mean something to
him.

He wondered suddenly about Jodi and what he
was doing here with her. The kiss had created questions in his
head, questions he shouldn't even be thinking about. Like, what
would it be like to have a woman around all the time? Was he
falling in love with Jodi?

But those questions lingered in his mind for
a long while as they rode hard the next day. They practically
stampeded the cows they had with them.

When they finally stopped to eat a bite, Jodi
went off by herself. She hadn't said anything. She just
disappeared. He figured she could take care of herself as she had
gone in the direction of the creek. Maybe she wanted to wash up a
bit. He looked around for her, and then he heard a noise. A strange
and unfamiliar noise.

It was coming from the creek. He walked
toward the noise. He saw Jodi, bent over, sick as a dog. She was
crying too. His first reaction was to go and comfort her, but then
he considered her for a moment and knew she wouldn’t be
appreciating it.

Not wanting to make mention of it, he said
nothing when she came back toward the camp, a little white around
the mouth and red around the eyes.

“I got jerky, if you want some.” He offered
from his saddle bags.

“No…no, I think I'll wait a spell,” she said,
not looking directly at him.

He eyed her suspiciously. “You ready to
go?”

“Yeah…let's get it done,” she replied, a
sudden weariness to her tone.

He nodded and mounted, and then watched her
mount slowly. Something was wrong, but he didn't know what. He
wished she'd open up to him, but he knew she wouldn't, not yet.
She'd begun to question her own opinion of him. He knew that by her
questions. But she wasn't ready to trust…yet.

The countryside was changing as they moved
north, and so was the temperature. It was chilly after so much
rain. The sun only managed a sporadic appearance through the gray
sky. There was sparse grass along the prairie and they managed to
stay atop that, not wanting to bog their horses down in the
mud.

“I was thinking, maybe we could stop off in
Fort Worth,” she said after a long while. “I need to pick up a few
supplies that we're short on before we go on. Matt doesn't have a
slicker, and since he's riding drag off and on, he might need it.
The flour, it needs replacing. We've got weevils. I can't make a
decent pan of biscuits with what I have.”

He scrutinized her for a long moment.
“Supplies, huh? It'll mean we won't catch up for another day.”

“But it would save time later. If I get the
supplies,” she added, “I'm getting some Union Suits for the men to
wear, in case we have to swim the cattle over on the Red too. From
the looks of them, they are worn pretty thin.”