The Doctor's Lady (17 page)

Richard had reached the head of the horse and lifted its muzzle between his hands. The other men pushed from the rear.

After a few unsuccessful shoves, Eli let go of the beast and swam around to the front with Richard.

They tugged together, and Priscilla watched with growing horror as the horse sank deeper. Its shrill whinny echoed through the air.

Mabel’s hand connected with hers, and she latched onto it, squeezing it hard.

One of the hired hands gave a shout and splashed into the water. The other stripped off his boots and followed. After moments of grunting and pulling, the horse reared up and stumbled forward. And the group gave a cheer.

“Thank you, Lord,” Mabel murmured.

Priscilla’s breath swooshed. But her heart pattered hard with each halting move Eli made toward the far shore. When he finally dragged himself out of the water, the horse staggering to land behind him, she clung to Mabel, her knees weak.

The trappers stared at Eli but made no move to greet him. Instead, they appeared to be packing up and preparing for their departure.

Dripping, Eli wound through the packs and mules, until she lost sight of his sagging wet hat. For some time, she watched and waited with Mabel, until finally Eli reappeared and began to swim back across the river.

“Hurry!” Eli called, towing a narrow leather boat behind him. “The caravan isn’t going to wait for us to cross before they leave. Start unloading the wagons now.”

But Priscilla couldn’t move, even though the others around her had begun the task of taking all the supplies out of the wagons. Her focus—and her very soul—riveted upon Eli as he swam, this time holding on to the dragline he’d attached to one of the few trees on the opposite shore.

When he sloshed to the shore, his shirt and trousers stuck to his body. Water ran like spring rivers down the length of his hard muscles.

He sagged to the ground. After sleepless nights, hard rides, and now fighting the river, exhaustion drew haggard lines across his face.

Who could ask for a better, stronger man than Eli Ernest? She’d never met a braver, more determined man. And he was her husband.

A flush of pride stole over her.

“I could strangle Squire.” Eli sucked in a ragged breath. “He’d rather see us drown in this river than ride with them.”

“Doc. Find safe place to cross,” Richard said. “Too much soft sand here.”

“We don’t have time.” Eli shoved himself off the ground. “We’ve got to cross
now.
The Pawnee villages are only a day’s ride away. If we don’t stay with the caravan, we might as well turn around right here.”

Priscilla was of half a mind to shout out that she’d much rather turn around than cross another river. But she bit her lip and hoped to put off the inevitable as long as possible. She slunk to the end of the line of horses and wagons and tried to make herself invisible.

By the time the men had ferried most of the supplies over in the little boat, the Fur Company caravan was long gone. Their next challenge was to have the horses pull the wagons across. Even though they steered clear of the spot where Eli’s horse had gotten stuck, the quicksand still gave them trouble.

“Time for the women to go,” Eli said.

She didn’t move from her partially hidden spot at the back of their caravan. Her fingers dug into the coarse hair of the cow she stood beside.

“Priscilla?” he called.

She was sure Mabel was already in the boat. And now they’d all be waiting on her.

“Time to go, Priscilla.” His voice drew nearer. “We need to leave now!”

“Lord, help me,” she whispered, cringing.

For a long moment, she cowered next to the cow, hoping, praying that somehow God would dry up the river, just as He had the Red Sea for the Israelites.

“What are you doing?” Eli’s question came from behind her.

She jumped.

“It’s time to go.” His wet clothes clung to his body, outlining the strength in his limbs. Water dripped from his hat into the tall grass.

She avoided his eyes. “I can’t go back into a river.”

“There’s no other way to cross.”

She stared at a creamy splotch in the cow’s hair.

“I know you’re frightened. But I told you I’d be right beside you this time.”

She was trapped. She couldn’t go forward, and she couldn’t go back. There was nothing for her to do but dig a hole and bury herself.

He reached for her arm and gently spun her around. The blue in his eyes was as clear as a perfect summer sky. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do. . . .”

“Then let’s go.” He tugged her.

She resisted.

“Oh, I understand.” Sunlight danced in his eyes. “You’re waiting for me to pick you up and carry you.”

She sucked in a breath. “You wouldn’t dare.”

A hint of a grin snared the corner of his mouth. “Don’t you know you should never dare me? It’s a sure bet I’ll do it.”

Before she could protest, he grabbed her around the middle. With one motion he lifted her to his shoulder and hung her there like a sack of seed grain.

“Eli Ernest! This is entirely uncivilized.” Her cheeks burned. But not entirely from embarrassment.

“No one ever said I was civilized.”

She made a halfhearted protest by squirming. The cold wetness from his clothes seeped through the thin layers of her dress and linen chemise.

He clamped his arm across her backside.

She gasped and grew motionless. The solidness of his arm pushed against the roundness of her flesh. “Your hold is quite indecent.”

“Suits me just fine.” He stalked forward with an ease that belied her weight and his exhaustion.

“It’s entirely inappropriate.” She couldn’t think past the pressure his arm exerted.

“Please, put me down. You’ll cause a scene.”

His arm only tightened. “You know how much I like causing scenes.”

Her mind whirled, and the heat in her cheeks blazed hotter. “Then you’ll force me to take extreme measures to stop you.”

He chuckled. “I’d like to see what you can do.”

She took a deep breath, and then, before she lost courage, she sank her fingers into the hair that stuck in wet clumps to the back of his neck.

His steps faltered.

She combed through the thick locks, letting her fingers brush against the soft skin. “Looks like you’re in need of a haircut,” she said softly, in what she hoped was a seductive voice.

He stumbled.

Her brazenness shocked even her own delicate ears. But she couldn’t help smiling. Her ploy was working.

She brushed her fingers through his hair again, pulling the wet strands up, making sure to trail her fingers across his neck. “I can give you a haircut.” She wrapped a strand around one of her fingers. “If you want.”

With a jolt, he stopped. He shifted her and slid her down. When her feet touched the ground, he didn’t let her go but instead pulled her against him. His eyes flashed with a heat she couldn’t begin to understand.

“You won.” His palm nestled into the rounded spot at the base of her back, and his gaze narrowed on her lips.

Would he kiss her? Here? Now? Her stomach turned to warm mush at the thought of him pressing his lips against hers.

When he leaned in, she caught her breath.

But instead of touching her lips, he grazed the tender spot next to her ear.

The scratchiness of his cheek and heaviness of his breath sent tight quivers through her belly.

She wanted to slide her arms around him, to hold him, to forget about everyone else but them.

He pressed his mouth against her ear and then gave a ragged groan. “We have to go,” he said breathlessly, pushing her to arm’s length, setting her away from him.

“I know.” She fought to catch her breath and composure.

“Our very lives depend on us crossing the river and catching the caravan.”

She nodded, suddenly chagrined. She didn’t want to be the cause of their delay in reaching the caravan. And she most certainly didn’t want to ruin Eli’s goodwill toward her. Not now. Not after he’d almost . . .

“You’ll be all right, then?” He started forward, as if he needed to put more distance between them.

“I’ll try.” She fumbled at her skirt, pressing the ruffled cotton, one of the plain dresses Mother had sewn for the trip, which was now dirty beyond recognition since they’d had no opportunity for washing clothes since they’d left Liberty.

Even though her legs had no strength, she tried to make her feet move forward as gracefully as she could, following Eli.

When she reached the bank of the river, her stomach rippled with unease. Mabel was sitting in the native-made boat, clutching her India rubber life preserver.

The water lapped against the leather sides and threatened to splash over the sides. Priscilla took a quick step back. “I can’t—”

Eli swept her off her feet into his arms. “We don’t have any more time.”

The solidness of his arms enveloped her.

She closed her eyes, and warmth flared back to life in the pit of her stomach, chasing away the fear. For a long moment, she didn’t worry about what the others thought of her unladylike predicament. Instead, she relished the solidness of his arms, the safety of his chest, and the thought that he desired her.

He sloshed through the water to the boat, and when he bent over to deposit her inside, his breath hovered against her cheek. “You’ll be fine, Priscilla.”

Her gaze collided with his.

“I’m swimming alongside. And I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She took a deep breath.

When he lowered her into the boat, she reluctantly released her hold.

And suddenly she knew what was happening to her.

For the first time in her life she was falling in love. . . . More than that—she was falling in love with the man she’d married.

Only she wasn’t supposed to. It hadn’t been part of their bargain.

Whatever would she do now?

Platte River

F
irelight. Ahead.” Richard pointed to the glow on the horizon.

Relief seeped through Eli. “Thank the Lord Almighty.” His shoulders slumped and fatigue rolled over him.

They’d made it. Finally.

The crossing at Loup Fork had taken longer than he’d planned. No matter how hard they’d worked, the quicksand had slowed them down. After pushing hard all day, he’d begun to wonder if they’d ever reach the tail end of the caravan. When midnight had come and gone, he’d grown desperate, knowing he couldn’t keep them up all night, especially Priscilla, who’d sacrificed riding in the wagon again so that Mabel could.

He choked back the frustration that had been building over the past hours, thinking how weary Priscilla was, how much she needed to rest.

Now she could.

“We’re almost there,” he called to the others behind him.

When they pulled up to the caravan’s circle, the night guard motioned for them to make their own camp outside the circle. Even though Eli had been hoping to pen their cattle and horses within the inner encampment for safekeeping, he didn’t argue. It was too late. Besides, now that they were finally together, they couldn’t chance stirring up any more animosity.

He dismounted and headed for Priscilla. She was slumped in her saddle and made no effort to get off.

He reached for her, fitting his hands around her waist. “I’ve got you.”

She didn’t offer any resistance and instead fell into his arms.

He hefted her against his chest.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she breathed a long sigh that simmered against his chin.

“I’m so tired,” she whispered.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He started toward the wagon.

Her fingers stretched into the hair curling over the collar of his coat. And in a flash his body heated with the memory of her fingers there earlier in the day. Even if she’d been playing with him then, he’d feasted upon her touch much more than he wanted to admit.

The softness of her body melded against him. “Oh, Eli.”

Her breath caressed his neck. It drove out the exhaustion and sent life through his blood.

“I’m so glad we’re with the caravan.” Her fingers slipped through his hair and brushed against his head.

He leaned into her hand. He didn’t care if her boldness stemmed from her tiredness or was a continuation of her playfulness from earlier in the day. The pleasure of her touch warmed him all the way to his soul.

“Look at all the stars tonight,” she whispered.

The cloudless sky was as open and endless as he remembered from his last trip, and the darkness of the night made each star shine like a polished gem.

“Maybe if we look hard enough we’ll see Mars,” she said. The sparkle of the heavenly lights reflected in the depths of her eyes.

He took a breath of the sweet summer air and exhaled all the tension that had built up over the past weeks of travel.

“Or perhaps we’ll see Ceres, the new planet,” she added.

“While you’re at it, why don’t you discover another one?” Lightheartedness breezed through him. “Then you could name it something more practical, like . . . ‘faraway blurry spot.’”

She gave a soft laugh.

“Or what about ‘another rock in the asteroid belt’?” he suggested.

“I see you’re a helpless romantic.”

He grinned.

“I understand now why you’ve wanted to come back,” she whispered. “The vastness of the sky is breathtaking.”

He turned his eyes heavenward, something he hadn’t done often enough over the past weeks. The wide open sky went on forever. It
was
breathtaking.

On the last trip he’d had more time to take in passing scenery and to pray. “I know it’s been hard to appreciate the beauty of the prairies with all the hard riding we’ve had to do. But I hope now we’ll be able to enjoy it more.”

“I’d like that.”

They’d crossed hundreds of miles of country so far to get where they were, and they still had hundreds to go. But somehow, reaching the trapper caravan put his plans and dreams within grasp. Fresh excitement pulsed from his heart through his arteries to his tired limbs.

He shoved aside the flap of the canvas covering the back of the wagon.

Her arms gripped him tighter. “Will you be able to lie down for a while?”

He shrugged. “I’ll take a turn at watching the animals first.”

“I hope you can rest.”

Did he hear wistfulness in her tone? He bent his head toward hers and couldn’t resist the urge to lay his lips against the creamy skin of her forehead. The softness that met his lips stirred the hunger she’d awakened in him earlier.

Her breathing quickened and came in short bursts against his collarbone.

His chest pumped faster.

What was she doing to him?

His mind told him to go, to ignore the swirling of longing to stay with her. He’d promised her they’d keep things businesslike, and he wasn’t a man to go back on a promise. Besides, he didn’t need the distraction of getting involved with her. He needed to stay focused on his number one job—getting them to the West safely.

“Eli.” She breathed his name with the hint of a question, almost as if she were asking him to stay.

He held himself rigid and swallowed a moan. It wouldn’t hurt anything to give her a little kiss, would it? Especially not now, after they’d caught up with the caravan. They would be safe. Their travels would be easier—at least until after the Rendezvous. Couldn’t he enjoy just a moment with this woman? His wife?

He nuzzled his nose against the softness of her hair above her ear. Then he let his lips get a taste of the creaminess of her cheek. The flavor of her skin only made him want more.

He let his lips graze the length of her cheekbone and then straight down to her lips.

She dragged in a quick breath.

He captured that breath with his mouth upon hers. The softness of her lips melded with his, and he took his time trying and savoring the delicacy of her mouth. He’d never tasted anything like her and knew for certain he never would again this side of heaven.

The problem was that now that he’d gotten a taste of her, how would he be able to live without coming back for more? What would happen to their agreement then?

With a groan, he tore away from her. Then before he could change his mind, he hefted her into the wagon bed.

The motion forced her to let go of him and balance herself on the array of blankets and overturned crates. Through the dark, the reflection of the stars in her eyes beckoned to him.

His heart thudded with something deep and powerful, something that drew him to her with an intensity he’d never experienced with any other woman.

He stepped back and drew in a breath of the cold night air, needing to clear his head before he did something he would regret or before he took advantage of her exhausted state.

“It’s late.” His voice was gruff with the effort to keep himself from climbing in after her, lying down next to her, and kissing her until neither of them could breathe.

He spun away. He hadn’t wanted to bring a wife along. But since the Board had forced his hand into it, he’d resolved to do the best he possibly could to keep her safe. And now that he’d come to know this woman, after seeing just how deep her beauty went, he was more determined than ever to make sure she stayed safe.

He could admit, yes, that he’d grown to care about her.

And he could admit he wanted to forget all about their business arrangement and his promise to keep their relationship platonic—especially at that moment. He didn’t imagine he’d have too much trouble persuading her to abandon the agreement. She hadn’t turned him away yet.

But if he took down the barriers around his heart and allowed himself to get involved with her, would he be able to protect her well enough? Would he be able to think clearly to help her survive?

And would it be fair to her? Especially if he would have to send her back home at some point? He’d vowed he would give her an annulment. He wouldn’t be able to do that if he kept kissing her.

He let out a long breath and turned his face to the expanse of the heavens and to the Almighty. Involvement with a woman had never been part of his plans. He’d kept his focus and energy on God’s call, on the mission, on the natives.

But now . . .

Was God giving him the opportunity for both?

Priscilla awoke to the shouts of men and the off-key braying of mules.

With a start she sat up and looked around. Through the darkness, the shadows of their dwindling supplies greeted her.

Mabel was still curled up under a pile of blankets.

The faint light of dawn peeking through the slits of the canvas told Priscilla it was past time for her to arise and begin their early morning meal preparations.

Why hadn’t Eli called to them, as he usually did?

She unraveled her hair and quickly combed her fingers through the tangles. Every time she fixed it, she shuddered at how dirty and lusterless it had become over the past month of traveling overland. And her once-perfect skin was coated with a layer of filth that made her shiver whenever she looked closely enough.

She didn’t want to complain to Eli, but she was growing desperate to wash her clothes.

With a sigh, she swept her hair into a knot at the back of her head. She groped for her bonnet and fixed it in place.

Her heart pumped with the sudden longing to see Eli, to be near him.

She touched her fingers to her lips and relished the memory of his lips pressed there. Her stomach whirled with a strange mix of sensations, the same that she’d felt last night—almost as if she wanted him to keep kissing her and never stop.

She blushed at the thought.

There was no doubt she was falling in love with him. Even though it was a new emotion, it was strong and deep and sure.

Perhaps he wasn’t the type of man she would have married under normal circumstances, but he was proving to be the bravest, kindest, strongest man she’d ever met.

Her heart ached with the longing for one of his smiles of pleasure. What could she possibly do to earn one?

With trembling fingers, she opened the canvas flap and poked her head out.

The smoky air of the campfires swirled through the coolness of dawn. The men were busy saddling the horses and rustling up the cattle.

Ahead of their group, the caravan was getting into formation, the mules in a straight line, one in front of another, all loaded with enormous packs. She could count at least seven fully packed wagons drawn by six mules each.

If the caravan was already lining up, they must be leaving soon. There was no more time for dawdling. She would need to attend to her duties.

She swept aside the flap and climbed down.

Her feet had no more than touched the ground when a body stepped around the wagon into her path.

She jumped back against the wagon with a gasp.

Before she could scream, a dirty hand with blackened fingernails clasped her mouth.

“I was wantin’ the chance to see the women,” a voice rasped against her ear.

She struggled against the suffocating grip, gagging on the sour odor of liquor on the man’s breath.

In the hazy light, his eyes were big and dark against sunken cheeks, his beard long and scraggly.

“Ah, pretty little girlie, I been waitin’ here for you to come out. I’m aimin’ to get me a taste of real woman flesh.” He yanked her against him with a grip that sent panic racing through her like a wild out-of-control horse. “Haven’t had me a white woman in longer’n I can remember.”

She screamed, but his fingers pressed against her mouth and nose, cutting off all air. His limbs were scrawny, but when he started to pull her away from the wagon into the long prairie grass, his strength was as unyielding as a chain.

The more she struggled, the harder he pinched, until the world began to swirl in front of her.

With each shuddering heartbeat, her brain hammered dread through her body. If he dragged her much farther, no one would see them. No one would even realize she’d left the confines of the wagon until too late.

Her mind screamed. But with each second, the world grew more distant, and all she knew was that he’d trapped and overpowered her, and she was helpless to escape him and the horrible fate he intended.

God have mercy.

Had she come this far and endured so much adversity only to suffer the most defiling torture the devil had invented?

He shoved her to the ground and released her mouth and nose.

She struggled, unable to fight for anything but a lungful of air.

Before she could move, he’d rolled her to her back and straddled her.

Her lungs burned, and she writhed, desperate to get away.

His thin, weathered face contorted with lust. He yanked at the layers of her skirt, and his fingers scraped against her delicate skin like an old piece of bark. She drew in a long breath and then exhaled it in a shrill scream.

“Ah, shee-ut up.” His hand crashed against her cheek.

Pain pierced her sensitive flesh and radiated to her cheekbone. She cried out at the intensity.