This Savage Heart (6 page)

They glared at each other, and Teresa said, “Both of you, stop it right now! This is ridiculous!” To Myles she said, “Julie is capable of making her own decisions about her friends, and she should be allowed to do so without interference from either of us. If Mr. Vance proves to be undesirable company, I am sure she will end their relationship at once.”

Myles scratched at the stubble of his beard. Teresa was right. And Julie wouldn’t bend to his will, anyway. He just hoped Vance wouldn’t bother his sister further. Damn it, he wished he knew what it was that bothered him about Vance. There was just something…

Sudden shouts around them turned their attention to Derek and Thomas riding up the slope. They rushed outside to join the others.

“It’s warming up,” Derek told them, sitting atop his palomino, “and it doesn’t look as though the snow will be a problem. If we move out right away, we can still make a few miles today, before the snow turns into slush and mud. Get ready to leave at once.”

The men moved to harness their horses, and the women scurried to prepare for the journey. Julie hung back. She didn’t know why, but for some unexplained reason she could not tear her gaze from Derek, who was staring at her intently.

Finally he dismounted and took a few steps toward her, but a woman’s voice stopped him.

“Derek! I must talk to you.”

Elisa Thatcher approached, and Derek was forced to turn away from Julie and see what Elisa needed.

With a deep sigh, Julie left to help Teresa and Myles prepare for the day’s trek.

Chapter Five

At long, long last, they arrived in San Angelo. The townspeople were happy to see the wagon train, and after introductions to more people than Julie could possibly remember, Myles whisked her and Teresa to one of the town’s few hotels, dismissing their protests that they would save money by staying in the wagon.

The next day, while Myles went off with the men to barter some of their horses for mules or oxen, Julie and Teresa shopped. Everywhere they went people were friendly, glad for the excitement of new faces, glad for an excuse to be festive despite the bleak winter.

There had not been much to choose from in the few shops, and Julie made up her mind not to buy a dress for the dance, to forego the ball altogether. She returned to the hotel and was surprised, a few hours later, by the delivery of a dress she had admired. Teresa had told Myles how pretty the dress looked on Julie, and that Julie refused to spend the money for it. Myles, bless his generous heart, had gone and bought it for her, explaining that after trading two of his horses and one of hers for oxen, there had been money left over.

It was a beautiful dress. Slip-on, puffed sleeves were fashioned to taper from her elbows to her wrists, and the points were meticulously embroidered in gold cord. The skirt was full and hung in thick drapes, a new style from Paris, which did not demand hoops—for which Julie was grateful. Hoops, as well as other fashion items, were unimportant and had no place on wagon trains.

The next day, an hour before the dance, Julie stood before the oval mirror and beheld the vision she was. The gown was of midnight-blue velvet, and the delicate gold thread embroidery around the bodice accented her black hair. She had labored for hours with a borrowed curling iron, twisting her long tresses into delicate spirals that graced the tops of her bare shoulders. Tiny ribbons that matched the dress were entwined in the curls.

A soft knock on the door brought Julie out of her reverie, and she heard Teresa’s voice.

“Oh, you’re beautiful!” Teresa exclaimed, clasping her hands in admiration as she stepped inside. “Julie, I always did think you were the prettiest woman I ever saw, and now I know I was right!”

“Teresa, you’re prejudiced,” Julie said, laughing. “You look lovely, too, Teresa. You did a marvelous job on that dress.”

Teresa looked down at her loose-fitting gown of soft pink wool. “Are you sure you can’t tell where I let out the seams? I don’t mind looking pregnant, but I don’t want to look awkward, either.”

Julie reached out to adjust the white ribbon and bow Teresa had fashioned under her bodice to conceal the seam marks. “You do have talent with a needle, Teresa.”

“Uh-oh!” Teresa’s eyes grew wide, and her hands flew to her swollen stomach. “The baby just kicked me. What am I going to do if my bow starts jumping up and down?”

They looked at each other and giggled, delighted, but the moment was spoiled by the appearance of Arlo Vance in the open doorway.

“I hope I’m not early,” he said.

Julie’s elation faded. She had told him she would meet him downstairs, in the lobby. Dear heavens, he was ornery, bent on doing things his way without regard for what anyone else wanted. “It’s all right, Arlo,” she told him in a tight voice as Teresa looked on, puzzled. “But I did tell you I would meet you downstairs.”

He stepped inside and flashed a wide grin, his eyes raking over her possessively. “I knew you were going to look real pretty, honey. I wanted to escort you downstairs, to let everyone know you’re with me.”

Julie bristled. But, not wanting to make a scene, she told Teresa she would see her downstairs and then she allowed Arlo to lead her through the door and down the narrow, dimly lit hallway.

“This hotel is a dump,” Arlo remarked with a condescending air. “Why didn’t your brother put you in another one?”

She looked at him sharply. “Myles got rooms we could afford, and I see nothing wrong here, anyway. It’s clean.”

“Why didn’t you tell me money was a problem?” he asked her pointedly. “I would be glad to put you up at my hotel. It’s a nice place. No ballroom, but the rooms are bigger and furnished with newer things.”

“I wouldn’t dream of such a thing,” she gasped, astonished. “Really, Arlo—”

“Shhh,” he hissed. “We’re about to make our grand entrance.”

Standing at the top of the stairway, she could see that the lobby was already crowded. From the adjacent ballroom came the sounds of instruments being tuned. As she listened, she heard something that made her gasp with horror. Arlo leaned over the railing and yelled, “Hey, all you ladies and gentlemen down there! I want to introduce you to the prettiest girl in the state of Texas—Miss Julie Marshall.”

Julie wanted the earth to open and swallow her. Never had she known such mortification. At least a hundred people turned to stare up at her curiously.

“Arlo, how could you?” she hissed, but he tightened his grip on her arm and started down the staircase.

If all those people hadn’t been watching, Julie would have exploded. Arlo, she decided, was crazy, and she didn’t known why she hadn’t seen that before. He was also pompous. She wanted nothing more to do with him, but what could she do about that evening?

She saw the way some of the women were looking at her, and she wondered whether they were shocked by Arlo’s behavior or had heard Elisa’s gossip. She only wished she were someplace else.

Then she became aware of familiar eyes on her, of long, thick lashes fringing eyes as black as the Savannah River. Derek was standing to one side, strikingly handsome in a wine velvet coat, his coffee-colored hair curling slightly about the open-throated white satin shirt. He watched with a look of quiet amusement, his lips slanted, but she saw his nostrils flare ominously, his fingers gripping his brandy snifter.

Julie glanced away and tried to control the nerves that threatened to make her explode. She had to get through the evening. Then, she would forget she had ever met Arlo Vance. But she
had
to get through the evening.

Arlo escorted her on into the oak-paneled ballroom, which was gaily decorated in streamers of red, white, and blue. In the center of the high ceiling, a large crystal chandelier cast mellow light onto the rose carpet below. To one side, the orchestra had set up their instruments on a platform. Along the other wall ran four white linen-covered tables, all laden with platters of sandwiches, fried chicken, fried sweet potatoes, and griddle cakes, as well as dozens of frosted cakes and succulent fruit pies, cookies, and several kinds of candy.

Arlo led Julie to the far corner of the room where a large crystal bowl was filled with bright crimson punch. The woman standing beside it smiled and gave them two cups filled to the brim, but her expression changed as Arlo took a big swallow from each cup, then set them down on the table. He pulled out a flask from his coat pocket and added whiskey to each cup. He held one out to Julie, but she shook her head and snapped, “No, I don’t want any, Arlo. What is wrong with you, anyway? You are behaving terribly.” To the hostess Julie murmured only, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to have a good time tonight,” he said sharply, tossing his drink down in one gulp and helping himself to Julie’s. “And so are you. Just relax. If other people don’t like it”—he glowered at the woman who still stared at him—“they can go soak their heads.”

“Oh, dear me!” The woman gasped, then turned and hurried away.

“Arlo!” Julie faced him, grateful that they were away from the others. “I thought we might be friends, but I find you are not the kind of person I want for a friend. You are unpardonably rude, and you embarrass me. I am sincerely sorry for the pain you suffered in the war, but carrying a grudge against the whole world is not the way to the peace you say you want. Now, if you will excuse me, I prefer not to be in your company. I wish you well, Arlo.”

She turned to walk away, but he set his cup down and caught her roughly around the waist, slinging her toward him. “I won’t excuse you,” he growled, pulling her onto the dance floor. The musicians were playing a soft melody. “We’re gonna dance.”

Julie realized he was well on the way to being drunk, had probably been drinking all afternoon. If she made a scene, there was no telling what might happen. If Myles knew what was happening, there was no telling what he would do. It was best, she decided, to dance with Arlo for a while and then slip away from him later.

He held her much closer than decorum dictated, and she tried to pull back without being obvious about it. “We’re gonna have a good time,” he muttered. “I’m gonna show those sons of bitches on that wagon train that Arlo Vance can have a pretty woman. They think ’cause I’m a Yankee I ain’t good enough for them or for a Southern woman.”

They danced in silence, and after a while he said, “I like to hold you. You feel good, Julie. Have you ever had a real man? I’ll bet them Johnny Rebs don’t know anything about satisfying a spitfire like you.”

“Arlo, if you don’t behave,” she warned, “I’m going to scream.”

“Good.” He chuckled. “Maybe it’ll bring that gimp-legged brother of yours over here so’s I can smash his self-righteous face. Scream, Julie, but I’m not going to let you go.”

How dare he call Myles “gimp-legged”? There was something terribly wrong with Arlo.

The dance ended, but instead of releasing her, Arlo continued to hold her, smiling down at her insolently as he waited for the music to begin again.

“Let me go, Arlo,” she whispered between clenched teeth. “I don’t want to dance with you. I find you offensive and anything but a gentleman.”

“Well, I don’t find you offensive,” he said, laughing, blasting her with whiskey breath. “And I find you every bit a lady—and more. I’ll just bet when you let your hair down and stop acting prissy, you can be real hot. We’ll find out later.”

She jerked against him in vain. There was nothing she dared say to him at that point. Should she scream?

“The lady promised this dance to me, Mr. Vance.”

Julie looked up gratefully to see Derek towering above them, his brown-black eyes stormy. Taken by surprise, Arlo’s hold upon her relaxed. With one quick jerk Julie freed herself and stepped quickly to Derek’s side. His arm around her, so protective, had never been more welcome.

Arlo sized up the situation as quickly as he could. Arnhardt was too damn big. And as much as he’d had to drink, he wouldn’t stand a chance anyhow. Soon he would see that Arnhardt paid for butting in. But for the moment he figured it was best to leave. With a last hungry gaze, he promised himself a chance someday to enjoy the delectable fruits of Miss Julie Marshall.

“Well, of course, Captain,” Arlo said, giving Derek a polite bow. “The lady is all yours. Good evening to you.”

“Thank you,” Julie whispered gratefully. “You couldn’t have come at a better time. He’s had too much to drink.”

“Vance has other problems besides drinking, Julie,” Derek said somberly. “You would be wise to stay away from him.” He took her in his arms and they began to dance.

“I know that now,” she admitted. “I’m afraid what happened to his family has unbalanced his mind.” She spoke absently. The nearness of Derek, having his strong arm wrapped tightly about her, was overwhelming. She was floating with a heady, dizzy feeling.

“Tell me,” Derek urged. “No one knows anything about Vance. He just showed up one day and asked to join us. I saw no harm. But it helps to know a man in case he gives you trouble.”

She told Derek the story as Arlo had told it. Then she said, “It’s made him bitter toward all Southerners, I’m afraid.” She repeated Arlo’s caustic comments about the wagon train members.

“If he makes trouble, he’ll get trouble,” Derek said. Then his arms tightened, and he smiled. “You’re ravishing tonight, Julie, ravishing.”

Julie felt the familiar warm flush catapulting within her. It was so easy—oh, dear God, so easy—to remember those times in his arms, nights when they were alone. As she gazed up at his warm, sensuous lips, she could almost feel those lips. So many warm memories…