Savage storm (11 page)

When one morning he approached her, she drew back, barely civil as she responded to his cheerful greeting. He was not on horseback, but walked up to her carrying a large piece of oilcloth rolled up in his right hand.

"I should have given you this weeks ago, if you'll wrap your books tightly in this water resistant fabric they won't suffer any damage when we must ford a stream."

Surprised by his sudden concern, Gabrielle wondered if by some slim chance the man did have a conscience after all. Perhaps he was too proud to come to her with an apology for his shameless behavior but wanted to make amends and had chosen this useful gift as the method to do so. Still, she hesitated to accept his present, not truly convinced his motive was a sincere one.

"You don't need this yourself, Mr. Royal?"

"Jason," he whispered softly so he'd not be overheard by those standing nearby. "No. I want you to have it since I know you want your books to arrive in Oregon in good condition."

Gabrielle reached out cautiously to accept the roll of fabric, thinking he might at the last minute change his mind and jerk it away but he placed it in her hands. His fingertips crossed her wrist as he stepped back and she was shocked by the heat of his touch, appalled to think nothing she'd learned would shield her from the force of his magnetic appeal. He grinned at her slyly, as if he'd had the very same reaction but had enjoyed it.

"Take care now." He touched his hat brim in a friendly salute and then strode off, seeming to have countless other errands which demanded his immediate attention while Gabrielle stood and watched him move through an opening between two wagons and disappear from view. She tossed the oilcloth into the back of their wagon, choosing to wrap her books later, and swung herself up into Sunny's saddle while the others in her group stared at her with fascinated glances.

As soon as they started to ride. Erica caught up to her, as always bursting with curiosity. "Didn't Mr. Royal ask you to

go riding with him today?"

"No," Gabrielle repHed honestly. "Why should he want my company?"

"Well, why not yours? He seems to be going down some list to see we all receive his attention, but I can't figure out what his order must be."

"I doubt he has any such plan. Erica, but why don't you invite him to go riding if you're so impatient for him to reach you?" Gabrielle suggested flippantly the matter unworthy of consideration in her view.

Erica's green eyes widened in dismay, "What is there between you two, Gabrielle? Whenever anyone mentions that man's name you find some excuse to change the subject or to leave us. Do you dislike him for some reason?"

"No, I despise him!" Gabrielle responded hoarsely; then she was sorry she'd revealed so much when Erica grew all the more inquisitive.

"But why? He seems like such a nice man to me."

"He is lower than a snake, just believe me he is, and don't ask me to explain my opinion, please," Gabrielle insisted promptly, considering the subject closed. Before Erica could demand she explain the reason for her opinions, Marlene brought her horse up beside theirs.

"What did Mr. Royal say to you this morning, Gabrielle?" She asked shyly.

Exasperated that their brief exchange of words had drawn such notice, Gabrielle nevertheless tried to answer calmly since she knew Marlene to be a sensitive soul who'd be offended by her anger while Erica wasn't. "He had some extra oilcloth he thought I might use, that's all."

"Oh." Marlene bit her lip, her nervousness plain. "I thought maybe he had asked you some questions about me."

"Has he bothered you, Marlene? If he has, he's going to be damn sorry!" Gabrielle vowed instantly. She'd been wise enough to see through the scoundrel's motives, but Marlene had the innocent heart of a child and she'd not remain silent if

Jason had taken advantage of her.

"No!" The pretty blonde's denial was instantaneous. "Not at all, it is only that, well, I put something on my application form that wasn't true and I'm afraid he's going to find out what I did and ask me to leave." As Marlene blurted out her confession, tears filled her eyes. She was terrified by the possibility that she might be sent back to her sister's home where she knew she'd never be able to find a nice husband or have the precious babies she wanted so badly.

"What sort of thing was it, Marlene?" Erica gave Gabrielle an astonished glance as she pursued the matter, for she could not imagine what kind of lie the young woman could have told.

Marlene looked first at Erica then at Gabrielle, "I know you'll never tell, but I would not trust any of the others with my secret."

"Of course we'll not tell!" Erica agreed immediately. "Now whatever did you say that wasn't true?" She leaned forward, eager to hear it.

After taking a deep breath, Marlene spoke softly. "I said I was nineteen, but I'm really twenty-three."

"Oh, is that all?" Gabrielle laughed at Marlene's serious expression. "Your secret is safe with us, and I'm certain no one will ever guess you gave an incorrect age. You don't look a day older than nineteen so cease to worry over the matter. Your future husband will be delighted with you no matter what your age, I'm certain of it."

"Do you really think he will?" Marlene asked hopefully.

"Yes, I am positive he will!" Gabrielle was relieved the matter was no more important than that for she'd truly feared Jason might have gotten Msirlene into some serious trouble. Not until several days had passed did she recall that conversation and realize that she had not been shown an application form or been requested to sign one. Perhaps it was no more than a formality, but she went to find Clayton Home to seek his advice since he was the one charged with the responsibility of their care.

Expecting to find the man near his tent, Cahrielle approached with a confident stride hut hesitated to intrude when she saw him talking with Jason. They appeared to be discussing some issue of importance so she turned away, meaning to return at a more convenient time but the men had seen her.

"Miss MacLaren, wait! What is it, my dear?" Clayton rushed to overtake her. Although he had tried upon numerous occasions to win the young woman's confidence, he knew he'd ruined whatever chance he'd had the morning he'd made the mistake of laughing at her request to stand guard duty. That had been most insensitive of him and he regretted his mistake deeply. Since then she'd given him no more than the slightest of greetings accompanied by an icy stare, and he hoped to seize this opportunity to impress her favorably for a change.

Gabrielle turned slowly as the stocky man approached, "It was a small matter, Mr. Home. I can see you are busy so we can discuss it some other time."

"Nonsense," Clayton replied emphatically. He had learned through the countless opportunities he'd had to observe her that Gabrielle was well respected by the other young women in her party. She was both bright and charming, and except for her desire to help with guard duty she seemed very sensible too. "Now come with me. May I offer you some coffee or perhaps a cup of tea?"

"No, thank you." Gabrielle had meant only to ask a brief question, not to pay a social call, and she felt refreshments were unnecessary.

Jason stood aside, a slow smile curving across his well-shaped lips. "Good evening. Miss MacLaren."

"Good evening." Now that they stood in front of the tent Gabrielle found her inquiry difficult to phrase. Jason was watching her expression attentively, not leering or observing her with the taunting stare she'd come to dread. He appeared to be interested in hearing her problem no matter what it might be, and thus encouraged, she attempted to be concise. "One of

the women mentioned the application form you had the others sign and I was never given one."

Startled by that report, Clayton looked up at Jason. ''How could we have made such an oversight?" They had taken particular care in the wording of the document since these were not truly marriage contracts but simply informal agreements between the prospective brides and themselves.

"As I recall, you dismissed Miss MacLaren before I had a chance to offer one," Jason explained easily. "You had extras printed, why not give her one now?"

Gabrielle tried to appear calm, but it was difficult when Jason simply stared at her while they waited for Clayton to find his store of the forms. If he had said something she would have replied, but he kept silent and so did she. The tension between them was so intense she could scarcely bear it. He seemed to be waiting for her to speak first and she'd not give him that satisfaction and kept still too. When Clayton returned and handed her the application, she scanned it quickly, finding it straightforward in its message. Still, she hesitated to supply the required information. "The others all filled these out for your

"Yes, it asks only for the answers to some basic questions and for your signature." Jason moved behind her and, leaning over her shoulder, pointed out the sections which were to be completed. He stood as close as he dared while he spoke. "Clay, she'll need a pen and ink."

Gabrielle found it difficult to even focus on the printed words with Jason's warm breath upon her cheek. He was being polite, considerate; yet she felt his purpose was probably more devious than it seemed and drew away. "I can see what it is I am to do, merely agree to go to Oregon with you. That's all, isn't it? Since I am obviously making the journey, it seems pointless to have me sign this now."

Clayton pursed his lips thoughtfully, "No. It is not pointless, for when you sign our form it makes our responsibility for your welfare complete. Should you fall ill,

we will see you receive the best of care, should you require assistance of any kind, we will render it without question. There is a space for our signatures below yours/'

Gabrielle still felt uneasy, but she had no reason not to trust the basic purpose of their endeavor regardless of her opinion of Jason Royal's morals. She took the pen Clayton offered, and using a book he held out as a support, she began to fill out the form. When she came to the question regarding next of kin she looked up. "I have no living relatives, shall I just leave this blank or state that?"

"You have no one, Gabrielle?" Jason asked, his concern too genuine to doubt.

"No, not unless I were to count the man Til marry as a relative and that seems a bit premature."

"Just write none then; that will have to do," Clayton suggested, as surprised as Jason to think this lovely young woman was alone in the world for each of the others had had someone, no matter how remote a relation, to list. "I am sorry I did not realize sooner that we had no completed application form from you, my dear." He waited patiently for her to finish and sign the document; then he wrote his name with a flourish and handed the pen to Jason for his signature. "I'll go and put this form with the others right now before it can become lost."

As Clayton entered their tent, Jason moved to Gabrielle's side. "I'll walk you back to your wagon."

"That really isn't necessary, Mr. Royal. I know the way."

"Jason," he reminded her with a teasing chuckle. "My name is Jason, why is that so difficult a fact for you to remember?"

Gabrielle turned to face him, hoping to end their conversation quickly. "Jason, then. I'd rather walk by myself if you don't mind."

"But I do mind very much. I have few opportunities to speak with you and I'll not waste this one," Jason responded in a serious tone this time, but his expression was still a teasing one.

He really had a most charming smile. His even white teeth

flashed with a bright sparkle against his dark skin, but the fact that he was so attractive a man was beside the point in her estimation.

"I think we've said all we need to say to each other/' she replied firmly, hoping he would finally see her point and desist in his efforts to impress her.

"Not at all. We have not really had another chance to talk as we did at dinner that night in Kansas City. Won't you please come with me tomorrow? I can promise you a far more interesting ride than you'll have if you remain with your wagon." —

"Mr. Royal, please . . ." Gabrielle protested hoarsely, exasperated by his lack of understanding. "The other women seem to enjoy your company but I don't. Why don't you invite someone else? There are still several you've missed."

"You've kept a count of my guests?" Jason remarked with a sly grin, pleased that she'd noticed for he'd hoped she would be jealous of the attention he'd paid her companions.

"No!" Gabrielle thought the man impossibly conceited and was tempted to say so.

Since their conversation was as always going poorly, Jason attempted a different approach. "I have no other time to get to know you all, Gabrielle. Has any of your friends complained that my behavior is too forward, not that of a gentleman?"

Surprised that he would ask such a question Gabrielle took a moment to consider it thoughtfully before she replied. In truth, each of the young women had found him to be the most proper of escorts, amusing, but always respectful in his behavior. "No, they have all been most favorably impressed, Mr. Royal—Jason. But that does not mean that I would be."

Jason forced himself to hold his temper. He had laid such careful plans. The young women were remarkably sweet and he did think each deserved some portion of his time, but he'd also wanted them to be so certain his motives were purely platonic they'd not question his actions when he at last reached his goal: to be alone again with Gabrielle. "Perhaps you are right.

I've attempted to make each of your companions feel confident about her choice to come with us. But I can see you require no such reassurance. In fact, you seem to take exception to every word I speak. I'll not waste any more of my time or yours, Miss MacLaren. When your dislike for me is so intense it clouds your reason."

As he turned away, his disappointment in her seemed so deep that Gabrielle reached out to touch his soft deerskin sleeve, catching only the long fringe in the seam in her grasp, but that gesture was enough to stop him. "Jason, please, you're being needlessly cruel. I think it is simply unwise for us to be alone together." That was a considerable understatement she knew. For her it was not only unwise but dangerous.