Trail of Kisses (21 page)

“
It was for a good cause,” she
argued.

“
Like I said, you can’t make up
rules just to suit you.”

“
Maybe not.” Her expression held a
tiny sliver of contrition for about three seconds before
brightening. “But, what’s done is done. And because it’s done, I
think you should teach me how to fire this gun.”

He was not going to win the argument. Knowing
that spread prickles of heat along his skin and sent his blood
pounding. The notion that he would marry this woman curled back on
him, but with a sense of dread. He was going to be responsible for
her for the rest of his life. For her and for her wild
ideas.

“
I’ll tell you what,” he said,
thinking fast. “I’ll give you what you want and teach you to shoot
that gun—”

“
I knew you would.”

“—
if you give me something I want
in return.”

Her smug satisfaction hardened to suspicion.
She stared at him sideways, another look that made him wish they
were alone and vertical.

“
What do you want?”

Might as well go all in. He sauntered closer
to her, snatching her by the waist and pulling her close, pinning
her arms between them. She was surprised enough to gasp but didn’t
struggle.

“
I want you to sleep under the
wagon again, where I can keep an eye on you.”

She eyed him warily, but he could have sworn
he felt her whole body shiver.

“
Oh, no,” she said, shaking her
head and leaning back as if she expected him to try to kiss her. It
wasn’t such a bad idea at that. “We didn’t
sleep
last time,”
she added in a low voice.

“
We slept eventually,” he
said.

“
You know what I mean,” she said,
even lower.

“
It’s still the best way for me to
make sure you’re out of harm’s way.”

“
No one is going to attack me in
my sleep,” she insisted. “Except maybe you.”

The sudden vision of stoking a hand across her
body, up under the thin cotton of her chemise, as she slumbered in
his arms sounded like the perfect way to spend a night. He would
kiss her awake and then show her what it really was to be alive.
The very thought had him hard and sweating.

“
Teach me to shoot,” she said,
calm and even.

He realized a beat too late that her hand had
slipped between them and rested in the perfect spot to feel exactly
what kind of power she had over him. He had to take a step back to
avoid half the people around them starting a hue and cry about
indecency.

“
All right,” he sighed. If he kept
letting her get her way like this, there was no telling what
mischief she’d get up to. But it would be useful if she could
defend herself. “I’m just going to show you the basics, and
hopefully you won’t have to use them.”

“
The basics it is.”

She grinned from ear to ear and followed him
to an open area far away from the wagons. It was far enough from
the bustling train to be private, but not so far that he couldn’t
trundle Lynne back to the wagon and scold her if things went wrong.
She began to yelp in protest when he took the Cooper away from her,
but as soon as he started explaining, she was quiet.

“
A Cooper is a simple,
five-chamber revolver,” he explained, opening the cylinder and
showing her where the bullets went. Once you load it, it becomes a
dangerous weapon, so you have to be careful.”

“
I see.” Lynne nodded.

“
Lynne,” he emphasized her name.
“You
have
to be careful.”

“
I will be,” she
argued.

Cade took the bullets from her and loaded them
one by one before closing the cylinder and continuing. “The trigger
is very sensitive. This is a double-action revolver, which means
that you don’t have to pull the hammer back. You press the trigger
a little and the cylinder will turn, and when you press it all the
way, it fires. So once it’s loaded, you don’t want to point that
gun at anything you don’t intend to kill. Do I make myself
clear?”

“
Yes, Cade. Can I have the
revolver now?”

Half of him absolutely did not want to hand
her the dangerous weapon. The other half was eager to see what she
would do with it, although, knowing Lynne, she would take someone’s
head off.

“
Careful,” he said and handed the
gun to her as gingerly as he could.

Lynne took it with a smile and twisted to
point it, willy-nilly, off into the prairie.

“
Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop.” Cade
grabbed her wrist before she had her arm fully raised.

“
What?” she snapped, impatient.
“Am I doing something wrong?”

He moved to stand behind her and put his hands
on her waist.

“
Cade,” she said, her voice flat,
“now is not the time to—”

“
I’m showing you how to stand,” he
growled.

“
Oh.”

He shook his head and took a calming breath.
“What’s your target?”

She paused before answering. “I don’t
know.”

Somehow, that seemed typical.

“
Aim for that hunk of wood over
there.” He pointed out across the gently blowing grass to a dried
up stump in the ground.

“
All right.” Lynne nodded, raised
the gun, and a heartbeat later the cylinder clicked as she pressed
the trigger.

“
Wait!”

“
What?” she echoed,
frustrated.

“
Land sakes, Lynne. You’re the
jumpiest person I’ve ever taught to fire a gun.”

She twisted to peer over her shoulder at him,
brow set in a frown. “Have you taught many people to
shoot?”

“
No. Now turn your body to the
side to line your arm up with your target.”

She gave him one more suspicious look before
following instructions. She shifted to the side and raised her
firing arm to point at the stump. He settled his hands on her
waist, checked to be sure her hips were aligned, and smoothed his
palms up her sides. She tensed. Honestly, she had every right to
tense. He let his hands linger too long, and his thoughts with
them. Her body was lithe and graceful, and he already knew what it
could do at night. He leaned closer, breathing in the scent of
her.

“
Cade,” she said. “When do I fire
the gun?”

He smiled against her hair. “As soon as you’ve
taken aim.”

“
Good.”

Standing so close to her was folly, but it
meant he felt her body tighten as she pressed the trigger, sending
a bullet flying with a bang. He felt the recoil that pushed her
into him as well. Maybe teaching Lynne to shoot a gun wasn’t such a
bad idea after all.

That thought lasted for all of three seconds
before Lynne drew in a breath and fired the gun again. Then again
and again. Cade jerked back, looking ahead to the stump and the
ruffled prairie grass. Lynne fired the last bullet in the cylinder.
This time Cade saw a puff of dirt blossom well left of her
target.

“
Blast,” she shouted. “I missed.
Load the revolver so I can try again.”

It took Cade several moments of wide-eyed
blinking to really hear her request. Lynne missed the stump she was
aiming for, but she’d made enough noise to send the herd of oxen
right beside them into frightened lowing. Two or three had bolted,
and in the process run into a group that was grazing. The fear of
those few was caught by the rest, and they all started running flat
out across the grass.

“
Uh, Lynne, I think you’d better
give that gun back to me,” Cade said.

The oxen weren’t the only ones who were upset.
To the other side, men by the wagons were jumping up from what they
were doing and shouting as they watched their livestock go tearing
across the prairie. Several grabbed their shotguns and leapt for
their horses as more and more of the usually gentle oxen raised up
a chorus of cries and bolted. A dozen other farmers went charging
after them, calling, “Stampede!”

“
Oh dear,” Lynne murmured, her
face gone red. She clapped a hand to her mouth, and when Cade took
the gun away from her, she didn’t resist.

“
This was my fault,” he said,
already searching for a way he could help wrangle the oxen and
bring them back.

His heart sank further when Pete Evans came
charging out toward them on foot, his expression as black as the
skies had been before the tornado.

“
What in the hell are you doing?”
he shouted as he approached them.

Cade rushed to take responsibility before
Lynne could dig the hole any deeper. “I was teaching Lynne to fire
a revolver so that she could protect herself from whoever is trying
to hurt her.”

If Pete had a lick of sympathy for her plight,
it didn’t show.

“
Those oxen are our
transportation,” he raged. “They’re the only source of income some
of these folks are going to have once they reach Oregon or Denver
City. It could take all day to round them up and settle them, a day
those men could have spent with their families. Now they’ll have to
work on keeping them calm once they get back.”

“
No harm was meant, Pete.” Cade
did his best to soothe the situation.

His best wasn’t good enough. “I’ve dealt with
some strange trains before, but this one beats all. I’m not sure
that I care what dangers you’re in at this point, Miss Tremaine.
You’re turning into as big a menace as the miners.”

“
I….” Lynne started to either
defend herself or apologize. Cade wasn’t sure. She didn’t have the
chance.

Shots rang out from the wagons. From where
Cade was standing, it looked as though a fight had broken out
amongst a group of the miners. Half the decent men in their wagon
train had mounted up to chase after the oxen and most of the miners
were now throwing punches. Another shot rang out and was quickly
followed by shouts and screams from the ladies. Pete swore so
fiercely that Lynne yelped.

“
You keep her out of trouble,”
Pete said as he started back toward the wagons. “No ifs, ands, or
buts about it from now on. If you can’t get her to behave, I’m
leaving her behind.”

This time Lynne’s reaction wasn’t so much
indignation as stark shock. Her mouth hung open and bright pink
spots formed on her cheeks.

“
He can’t do that, can he?” she
asked.

As much as Cade wanted to answer otherwise, he
couldn’t. “Oh, I think he can and I’m pretty sure he
would.”

What had started out as a pleasant Sunday
quickly turned into a disaster. It had taken the better part of the
next three hours for every able-bodied man to round up the
frightened oxen. Ben was called on to help, which meant that she
had to take over hunting for buffalo chips. She resented Cade when
he directed her to take Ben’s place, but in the end it was a relief
to be able to hide from the ruckus of the wagon camp as the miners
were chastised.

By the time she finished scouring the prairie
for the disgusting, hardened chips and carried a heavy basket back
to her wagon, the mood of the camp had gone from angry to quiet
seething.

“
I want everybody to listen up,”
Mr. Evans said as he marched through the circle of wagons, drawing
everyone’s attention to the center as he came to stop there. “I’ve
had enough of the brawling and the undisciplined behavior that has
plagued this train since we set out from Independence.”

It was no flight of Lynne’s imagination that
Mr. Evans looked right at her as he said the last. Cade—who had
gone to help round up the oxen, but hadn’t strayed more than ten
feet from her since getting back—cleared his throat behind
her.

“
I’m done with it, do you hear?”
Mr. Evans went on. “I know some of you are only going as far as
Denver City, and we’re only a couple of weeks away, but so help me
God, if things continue like this, you’re all going to Denver City
and not Oregon, whether you like it or not.”

A murmur of resentment spread through the
farmers and families who had staked their lives on building anew in
Oregon. Lynne noticed Emma Sutton’s father, sister, and grandmother
looking particularly anxious. Emma and her mother thought they were
going to Oregon. If they ended up in Denver City, it could take
months, maybe a year, for them to find each other again. Worse
still, Emma’s sister, Alice, shot Lynne a nasty look, as though it
was all her fault.

“
I’m tired of breaking up drunken
fights among you all,” Mr. Evans continued, facing the miners.
“From now on, no booze and no gambling.”

A volley of protest rose up from the miners.
It was quickly stifled when Mr. Evans took three steps in their
direction, his eyes blazing with anger and frustration. The miners
quieted down, but their grumbling and seething
continued.

“
I’m splitting you lot up,” he
said.

“
What’d’ya mean?” one of the
miners asked.

“
You’re a menace when you’re all
grouped together, getting into trouble. Let’s see how you do when
you’re in the company of decent families. I’m placing each of you
with a different wagon.”