Untamed Journey (17 page)

“You can’t walk around half-naked in front of
me,” Ruth insisted. “W-we kissed, yes, but I – oh, I mean,” she
stopped with a blush. Some married folks don’t even see each other
like this their whole lives.”

“Would you rather we marry first?” he
countered back, only half-joking. “My mama always taught me to
respect a lady’s wishes.”

Before the War, Ruth would have dismissed
Jackson’s talk of marriage as flirtatious banter. But since this
was her second proposal in as many days from as many men, she
wasn’t sure how to react. She decided to pursue the safer route.
“I’m highly doubtful your mama taught you to go around proposing to
a lady while you’re half-naked in the middle of the woods,” she
retorted, trying hard not to stare openly as Jackson started to
remove his belt.

“You’re right about that.” He smiled
angelically to ease the bite of his next words. “But my daddy did
mention that a bit of harmless seduction would go a long way to
convincing a woman to accept a man’s proposal.”

Jackson stood up, holding out his hand, “Take
my hand, Ruth. You’re safe with me - in every respect.”

She caught herself just in time. She snatched
her traitorous hand back from Jackson’s reach just as the tips of
his calloused fingers started to close around hers and pull her in.
She held up her pot of hot water, hoping he might instinctively
step back and leave her enough room to walk around him. If she
tried now, she’d surely brush against his naked chest, which he was
slowly scrubbing with a small bar of lye soap.

“Sue thinks it’s unfair and impractical to
keep girls in the dark so much. She says half the reason some women
don’t much like relations with their husbands is they were so
scared the first time. Never get over that bad experience enough to
like it.”

“Who’s Sue?” Ruth asked, sounding shrewish
even to her own ears. “Is she your wife?”

Jackson chuckled at Ruth’s question, liking
the sound of her jealousy. “I’ve never been married. Sue thinks it
is past time that I give it a try. She’s about my mother’s age, so
she tries her hand at mothering me once in a while.”

“You could use a second mother to work on
your manners,” Ruth quipped, as she sidled out from between
Jackson’s naked chest and the rocks at her back.

“She thinks a lady should get a glimpse of a
naked man beforehand, so she knows what she’s getting into, so to
speak.”

“And how might a lady accomplish that?” Ruth
demanded. “Ask for volunteers at the church social?”

He laughed. “Can’t say for sure what Sue had
in mind. We never got around to discussing the details. But it
can’t be that hard, since we’ve seemed to work out a method in your
case. I’m going to finish my bath now. You’re welcome to stay and
watch.” He turned away and dove into the deep pond, not waiting for
her response.

She might have blushed an even deeper shade
of red if Jackson had turned and seen her still watching. But he
didn’t look her way, just began to methodically soap his hair. It
was thick and black and would probably curl at the ends if he let
it grow a bit longer. Her palm itched to feel its smoothness and
the warm skin underneath.

Ruth was startled at her own thoughts. She’d
never much paid attention to men in that way. She’d been kissed
back home before the War. But that was by a boy she’d known all her
life. It seemed like it happened to another girl.

But the woman she was now was firmly planted
in the present, mesmerized by the fall of water down Jackson’s
muscled back, secretly wishing the pond weren’t quite so murky.
When he started to turn around, she came to her senses and dashed
off into the cover of the trees.

Jackson couldn’t help wondering if she’d stop
halfway to appease her curiosity. He sure hoped so. The water was
damned cold. It’d be a shame to have tortured himself for no good
reason.

He listened closely as he took the bar of
soap and finished scrubbing his hair. He wasn’t disappointed. There
was no way the first-born son of the army’s best tracker could miss
the fact that the birds had stopped singing just above the spot
where he figured Ruth had hunkered down. Jackson gave her his back
again, only this time left a bit more skin above the water line.
There was no point in him pretending modesty if she was going to
act like she hadn’t seen him.

“D
id you have any
questions?” Jackson asked matter-of-factly as he walked up to their
camp, waylaying Ruth who was tending the small fire he’d allowed
them to have.

“What?” she blushed furiously at her own
secret thoughts, imagining what he’d think of her if she voiced
them out loud. She refused to look at him as he walked up next to
her. “We could use some more wood,” Ruth muttered, hoping to change
the subject.

Jackson ignored her and the plentiful pile of
wood right next to them and continued his verbal seduction. “I
asked if you had any questions – about me or what you saw earlier.
You were curious enough to stay and look at my body. Don’t you want
to know anything else?” he inquired with the utmost calm.

Oh, yes, everything. The thought tumbled into
Ruth’s head before she could force her concentration back to
putting more wood on the fire. But curiosity was no match for her
mother’s strict upbringing and she kept her mouth firmly closed and
her hands busy filling the coffee pot to avoid further
temptation.

The movement didn’t escape Jackson’s notice.
He usually made the coffee so her obvious attempt at distraction
was all the encouragement he needed. “You’re safe with me, you
know.” He reached for her chin, lifting it up to brush the softest
of kisses across her startled gasp.

“No one is here,” he reassured her. “No one
will know what you ask me or what I answer back. So why not appease
a little curiosity, Ruth?”

She was tempted. So tempted to ask, and even
more so to touch him back. Her palms tingled with the need to
stroke Jackson’s bare skin. But she couldn’t forget her mama’s
teachings or the fact that somewhere out there, she had a husband
in the eyes of the law. If Jackson only knew it wasn’t just one
biblical sin she’d be committing but two, seeing as she was
technically a married woman.

Jackson could sense the struggle within Ruth,
so he retreated a few feet. He busied his hands putting his shirt
back on, hoping the sight of him less naked might put her more at
ease.

“When I was a boy, I always wondered what all
the fuss was about. I watched my older cousins commit more
foolishness to get a girl just to spare a kiss and never understood
all the fuss. Having watched the livestock breed for more years
than I could count, I couldn’t understand the difference. I know
you must have witnessed a few things yourself growing up, seeing as
your daddy was a sometimes animal doctor.”

Jackson lifted his brows, waiting expectantly
for an answer.

Ruth’s blush returned, whether from their
conversation or from getting caught staring at Jackson’s hands as
he took his sweet time buttoning his shirt, even she didn’t know.
“Well, of course, I…’ She turned three shades brighter the minute
she locked eyes with Jackson, understanding that he knew she’d
never manage the words. “I mean, I wasn’t raised in a convent, now,
was I?”

“So are you saying that you’re not interested
in knowing or that you already know?” He grinned in reply.

She wanted to strangle the man for enjoying
her discomfort so much. “I don’t see how that’s any of your
concern.”

“Since I have every intention of seducing you
Ruth – whether before or after we marry being entirely up to you –
I see it as my business.”

If Jackson hadn’t been ready for it, she
would have fallen face first into the fire, she was so surprised at
his declaration.

“Hold on, Ruth, don’t lose your nerve now. I
wasn’t planning on your fall from grace this very afternoon.”
Jackson steadied her as she tried to push away more in reflex than
real outrage. He sat down on a large, flat rock near the fire,
pulling her down with him.

He had Ruth so off balance, both mentally and
physically, she couldn’t think to resist when he settled her
between his legs, her back to his chest.

“Now, Miss Ruth, if I were you, I’d imagine
having the same thoughts and questions as I had, but from the
female perspective. Not sure I can manage that one just right, but
I’ll try. You be sure and steer me in the right direction, if once
I get started, I’m not fully satisfying your curiosity. I don’t
want you to be surprised or nervous on our wedding night. I fully
intend for us both to enjoy ourselves.”

She half turned in his lap to face him. “Why
you arrogant –!” She sputtered over the words. “I never agreed to
marry you. You never even asked.”

“Would you like me to?” He held her gaze,
unflinching. “If it will make you less embarrassed to have this
conversation after I’ve proposed, we can take care of that
now.”

He waited in silence for Ruth to reply,
apparently dead serious.

But she was already married. She barely
stopped herself from blurting the thought out loud. Just because
she didn’t feel married and wasn’t convinced it should count,
didn’t mean Jackson would understand. And Ruth didn’t think her
opinion would hold much sway with the law, either. She had to stop
this temptation now. There was no future in it, for either of them.
God help her, if Jackson were serious about a proposal, what would
he think of her for leading him on, if he ever found out the truth?
Would she trust a man she’d barely known for a week who suddenly
blurted out how he was married, but it didn’t really count? Her
friends would laugh at her naiveté if she did, so why should
Jackson react any differently?

Ruth got up to leave, not saying a word. She
refused to lie to the man who had saved her life.

Jackson didn’t understand the wealth of
emotions passing through Ruth’s eyes, but they were no longer the
half-curious, half-embarrassed ones he’d meant to invoke. When she
stood to leave, he got to his feet and gently clasped her hand.
“Ruth, I meant no offense. I’m a plainspoken man because I’ve
learned that words can cause pain and suffering, even unspoken
ones. I’m too old to play courting games, and too weary of lies to
waste your time or your heart with false promises. I meant what I
said about a proposal.”

At her panicked look, he let go of her hand
and took a step back, thinking he was making her nervous. “I’m not
trying to rush or pressure you into something you don’t want,” he
continued. “But I’ve seen you watching me. I know you’re attracted.
You’re strong like me and I hope you know I’d never abandon you or
our children. No matter how hard this life got. I saw how you
stayed and fought for those passengers on the train. They were near
strangers, and yet you didn’t cower and hide like most women and
most men for that matter. You fought back. I’d fight back for you,
Ruth – always.”

Jackson stepped close once more and took her
hands into his much larger ones. He went slowly, giving her every
chance to protest. When he got none, he stroked his calloused thumb
across her parted lips. He barely managed to stop himself from
taking more before thinking better of it. He let his hand drop and
walked off, leaving Ruth to her thoughts.

And with that parting touch, every one of her
secret thoughts circled back to all those unanswered questions she
had.

“C
an I keep you
company, Miss Ruth?”

She didn’t so much as start in surprise at
the sound of Jackson’s voice behind her. She wondered at that – how
a feeling of peace and security could come to her so quickly, in
such a remote place, with a virtual stranger. When in her own
hometown, she could barely remember a time when she’d run through
the woods without scouting for cover. Or slept a full night in her
childhood home without bolting out of bed in fright at the
slightest noise. But here in North Creek, Colorado, a man twice her
size with three times her strength could walk up on her blind side
without triggering one survival instinct.

Ruth looked up the length of Jackson’s
muscled thighs, his sweat-soaked work shirt, and into those
dangerous eyes. And wondered when exactly she’d taken leave of her
senses. If anyone should be setting off warnings, he should. The
problem was that the warnings weren’t being felt along the back of
her neck, but somewhere else entirely.

Jackson took her silence for assent and sat
down. He promptly began removing his boots.

Ruth didn’t snap out of her reverie until he
began work on the buttons of his shirt.

“Mr. Jackson, are you aware of the fact that
in the short time I’ve known you, you are without exception
constantly removing some article of clothing in my presence.”

He laughed at her prudish observation. “And
are you aware, Miss Jameson, that in the considerable time I’ve
known you – considerable by Western standards of course – you’ve
never failed to blush to the roots of your beautiful hair when I
remove those same articles of clothing? It’s a lure I just can’t
refuse.”

Jackson was down to socks and pants by the
end of his speech and the blush on Ruth’s traitorous skin was three
shades darker than spring petunias.

When he reached for his belt buckle, she
turned full circle and gave him her back. “You’re impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible, Miss Ruth.
Particularly when you learn to shed yourself of society’s less
useful restrictions.”

Jackson couldn’t help himself, because he
could swear her blush showed from the back just as brightly. He
took pity on her and pulled out his clean shirt. “You can look now.
I’m dressed again.”

She decided she could risk turning all the
way around, seeing as it was Jackson. “That’s better,” she replied,
upon seeing him fully clothed, minus a large pair of bare feet.
“I’ve broken enough societal taboos since I came west, thank you
very much.”