Savage storm (22 page)

"I'm the one you're mad at, Jason, only me. I can take your temperamental outbursts, but most of the other girls can't. They shouldn't be subjected to your constant stern lectures when they don't deserve them. It was Erica this morning. Now it is Marlene and Margaret, who are so sweet they didn't even understand what risks you were talking about. Can't you just take me aside instead of punishing everyone else too?"

"I told them I was sorry. What more do you want?" Jason asked with a weary sigh. He'd not explain again that he was responsible for their welfare when she knew how lightly he'd taken those responsibilities in her case.

"We're not sheep, ewes you're herding across the plains to please some waiting rams! Damn it! We're women and deserve far more consideration than you ever show!"

Jason folded his arms across his chest, barely able to contain his anger as he replied. "Apparently you think I'm the one who deserves the stern lecture now. Well go ahead and give it; I'm listening." But he wasn't, he was listening to the dance tunes the two musjpians were playing with such carefree abandon. He wished he could pull Gabrielle into his arms and dance the night away.

"Jason?" Gabrielle called his name softly as she walked to his side, for she much preferred his charming smile to the frown he now wore. "I am not angry with you, and I can't bear the fact you're always so angry with me."

Bathed in the soft Hght of the moon, her expression was so sincere and at the same time so inviting that Jason drew her into his arms and kissed her with a passion so brutally demanding that her lips were bruised by the force of his affection. Yet when he finally released her she did not draw away. She laid her cheek upon his chest and hugged him tightly, wanting all that he could give. "I have missed you so terribly, Jason." She was close to tears herself then, clinging to him and not daring to hope he'd missed being with her as well.

Jason held the slender beauty, sifting her flowing tresses with a tender touch as the memory of her splendid loving filled his loins with a painful ache. He had never needed another woman as desperately as he needed Gabrielle; yet each word he spoke, each gesture he made seemed to be the wrong one. He enfolded her in a warm embrace, praying she would stay with him for as long as they could escape the others' notice, until dawn if only she would agree. "Let us find a place where we can be alone, for whatever torment you have felt is slight compared to mine." He kissed the top of her head lightly and waited patiently for her to agree, but when she drew away the sadness in her expression broke his heart.

'*You know that is impossible, every bit as impossible now as it was before. I must go!" With that breathless goodbye she left him, returning to the outer ring of spectators to watch the others while they danced. She wiped the tears from her eyes before they could be seen, but she was so depressed she did not think she would ever again be able to find the simple happiness which made dancing such a joy. It was then she recalled that she had not danced since the last night she'd been with Beau. There had been a party to send his uncle's family upon their way to Oregon, and she and Beau had danced until their feet were numb, not wanting the night to ever end for they knew how many months they would be parted. They would never have said goodbye had they known it was to be forever.

Jason returned to the impromptu party, and as he'd

promised, he danced first with Margaret and then with Marlene. He held the shy young women lightly in his arms, complimented them upon their grace, and was pleased when they blushed with pleasure. It had not occurred to him that any of the brides would not know how to dance, and he wondered what else he and Clayton had failed to consider. He was afraid Gabrielle had been close to the truth. While he'd certainly never regarded the young women as sheep, he'd not thought of them often or gotten to know them. It had all been a business proposition. Men they knew wanted wives and he and Clayton had decided to provide them. How he wished he'd listened to his conscience, for he'd thought the scheme would prove increasingly difficult as the journey progressed. He'd been worried then that the women would suffer, but now he knew it was his own heart that could not take much more.

The Indians appeared at dawn, lances in their hands, their bows and quivers filled with arrows slung upon their backs. They did no more than sit silently upon their ponies, but the mere sight of them was enough to frighten the emigrants into heeding Jason's order to turn out with astonishing speed. Although they were not followed, the wagons continued to roll at a brisk clip and few wanted to stop for the customary noon break. Knowing the animals could not be driven at so relentless a pace, Jason ordered a halt. He'd gone out to scout the trail and had seen no evidence that large numbers of Indians were roaming about, but he was uneasy. The Dakota had not ridden out to bid them farewell for no reason. He posted a double guard that night, and although no one sounded an alarm during the night, at dawn the silhouettes of the Indian braves could be seen atop the nearby hills. They were following the wagon train, silently stalking it, and that second night no one slept.

Clayton paced nervously in front of the tent as he attempted to make Jason see reason. "I think you should give the order to turn back."

Jason rejected that idea as preposterous. ''If they want to

attack us they will. Clay. It won't matter to them if we're heading east or west. They aren't trying to make us turn back; | it's something else they're after."

Startled by that possibility, Clayton asked abruptly, "What could it be?"

"I'm not certain yet," Jason admitted slowly. "But we'll keep right on moving as if we enjoyed their company." He'd cleaned his rifle three times that night, but now he laid the weapon aside. 'Try to get some rest, you may need it."

"How can any of us rest with those savages drawing closer by the hour? This is insanity I tell you, we've got to return to Fort Laramie!"

"Why? We can't camp there all summer. No, Clay. And keep your fears to yourself, I'll not have you spreading hysteria about the camp." Jason had been born with the perfect temperament for stress. The worse a situation grew, the more calmly logical his thoughts became. Picking up his rifle again, he got to his feet as he announced, "I'm going for a walk. Now do us both a favor and get some sleep."

He moved slowly around the ring of wagons, walking on the inside tonight so as not to provide a tempting target. He offered the same advice to all who seemed to need it: if the Indians attacked, the wagon train was well prepared to defeat them. When he came to Sam Duffy's wagon he waited a moment, wanting to speak with his wife. She seemed even more nervous than the other women he'd seen that night. Her bony fingers kept wrinkling her apron as she responded to his greeting.

He'd kept a close eye on the woman and her three children, feeling certain she'd not complain no matter how badly her husband behaved, but there was no sign Sam had repeated the brutal assault he'd interrupted.

"How are you tonight, Mrs. Duffy?" he inquired politely.

"I am just fine, sir, thank you."

The woman smiled shyly as she replied, seemingly embarrassed by his interest. Although her once-blonde hair

was now lightly touched with gray, she was still remarkably pretty when she smiled.

"I want to hear about it if you're not," Jason reminded her softly, but when her apprehension seemed to increase at that remark, he moved on. She was a proud woman, he hoped not too proud to ask for help if she needed it.

When he reached the brides' wagons, he found all the young women huddled together, their usually animated conversation being conducted in hoarse whispers. The eyes they turned upon him were filled with fright, and he could think of little to say to reassure them. More imaginative than many of the others, Iris' mind was filled with the prospect of gruesome tortures and she leaped to her feet the moment she saw Jason approaching.

"Can't you post more guards to protect us, Mr. Royal? We have no way to defend ourselves against the bloodthirsty savages who could be surrounding us at this very moment!"

Prying her fingers loose from his arm, Jason smiled as if her request were completely unnecessary. ^'Miss Stewart, you mustn't worry so. The camp is adequately guarded."

"But how can it be?" she persisted. "We have no more than our drivers and they can't stay awake all night!" Iris was terrified, shaking with fright, and this time grabbed his left arm with both hands but he again pushed her away.

"They won't have to. Miss Stewart, there are other guards as well. Now if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way. Good night, ladies." He tried to include them all in his glance, but Gabrielle raised her hand to catch his attention as she leaped to her feet.

"I'll be happy to stand guard, you know I can shoot well enough to do it." She was tired of listening to the frightened whispers of the others and wanted to do something far more active than merely complain as Iris had.

Not wishing to alarm the other young women, Jason kept on walking. He knew Gabrielle would pursue him until she made

her point. As she drew near, he whispered so only she could hear, "Come with me and we'll discuss it."

Running along heside him, Gahrielle again extended her offer. "I mean it, Jason. Please let me help you."

Certain her traveling companions could no longer observe them, Jason turned to face her. ''You do understand what you're volunteering to do, don't you? You might be able to shoot branches on a tree but do you honestly think you could kill an Indian?"

Appalled by that grisly prospect, Gahrielle nevertheless responded confidently. ''Yes. If I had to I could do it."

Jason sighed, sorry she was so naive. "Not just any Indian, Gahrielle. Let's say a young one, a handsome fellow with a grin which could melt snowflakes before they hit the ground. Ponder that possibility a moment and then give me your answer."

Gahrielle paused to observe Jason's expression closely. He wasn't teasing her now; he was dead serious. "The odds are slim that that particular Indian would appear in my sights."

"It's never easy to kill a man. Don't fool yourself into thinking it's any easier if he's a stranger."

Undaunted by his condescending attitude, Gahrielle refused to give in. "If we are attacked, there will be no time for me to search the Indians' faces for one I recognize. I can think of nothing worse than having to shoot that charming young man, but if he were trying to kill one of the girls, or you, I could certainly do it."

Her vow to protect him so loyally touched Jason, but he refused to accept such devotion. "Let's hope none of us needs your protection, now go on back to your wagon and convince Iris with whatever means are required to keep her mouth shut. She's frightening the other women and you all need your sleep."

'The only sure way to silence Iris is with a well placed fist," Gahrielle declared, a mischievous sparkle lighting her bright

blue eyes. She was not at all pleased by her inability to secure guard duty.

"You'll think of something else, Cabrielle. Good night.'' Jason shook his head as he walked away, he'd been too stern with her he knew, but he'd not allow her to defend the wagon train when that was the surest way for her to be killed.

Before the first ray of sunlight appeared in the eastern sky, every member of the wagon train was wide awake. All eyes swept the hills for some sign that they were being observed, but the landscape remained vacant. Somehow the Indians' absence was more disconcerting than their presence would have been. Everyone suspected this was only a tactic chosen to flay their already tautly stretched nerves. Only the children had any appetite for breakfast that morning so with another swift start they were on their way.

The Indians did not appear until noon, not until the wagons had been turned into their customary circle and the cooking fires had been lit. Then they came. Jason stood, rifle in hand, and watched their column advance. It looked like no war party he'd ever seen so he quickly sent the command around that no one was to fire. Finally one brave left the others and came forward. He rode to a spot halfway between the wagon train and his brothers and then drew his horse to a halt and waited.

"What do you make of that?" Clayton asked anxiously, suspecting a trick.

"I can think of only one way to find out," Jason replied slyly, and with a gentle nudge of his heels, he rode Duke out to meet the brave.

Cabrielle stood upon the wagon seat where she could have the best view, but she had no idea what Jason and the Indian could be discussing. Perhaps they want some sort of ransom she thought suddenly, payment to allow us to cross their lands. That made more sense than merely attacking the wagon train and stealing whatever was left when the battle was over. She tried to count the long line of braves and realized quickly that

the Indians outnumbered the men with the wagon train. The emigrants had rifles, of course, but perhaps some of the Indians did as well. When Jason turned his horse around and rode slowly back toward the train she ran to join the group waiting to meet him.

Jason removed his hat and wiped his forehead on his sleeve. He hardly knew where to begin when he saw all the anxious faces staring up at him. "We are in no danger of being attacked for the present so I suggest everyone go and eat lunch." He swung himself down from his horse then and called to Gabrielle. "Will you come here for a moment. Miss MacLaren?"

Gabrielle ran to his side, but when the crowd did not disperse as he'd told them to, Jason took her arm and led her aside. "I am certain you remember my cautioning you against flirting with Indian braves, Gabrielle, but—''

Interrupting him quickly, the redhead nearly screamed in frustration, "What has that got to do with anything, Jason? Now tell me what that brave said!"

Jason led her to a spot between two wagons where they could see the Indians who had not left the position they'd taken. "The one who came forward is your friend. He is the chiefs son it seems, and a young man greatly admired for his courage. This show of force is simply to impress you, my pet, for he wants you to become his wife."