Savage storm (17 page)

"You don't mean it!" the disheveled young woman cried.

"Oh, but I do. I'm taking him with me now. If you walk fast enough you can catch up with your wagon and ride with Paul for the rest of the afternoon; if not, you'll simply have a long

and tiring walk.*' Jason grabbed Sunny's reins and held them firmly as he swung himself up on Duke's back and recoiled his rope. "Fll give you your horse now if you'll give me your word you'll meet me tomorrow night without any more silly arguments."

Cabrielle simply turned her back on him as she started across the plain. She was too tired to run so she knew she'd not catch up to her wagon until it stopped for the night. Then she'd have to offer some explanation for the ghastly state of her appearance, but she didn't care. She'd never give in to Jason Royal when he planned to use her so badly. She would have made love to him again, that very afternoon, right there by the riverbank. She'd been so excited by their success and so delighted with his enthusiastic kiss, but such a display of affection wasn't what he wanted. All he seemed to desire was the power to make her submit to him on command and she'd rather die first.

Jason let her go, certain Gabrielle would come to her senses after she walked off her anger. He led Sunny along behind Duke until he came to a stretch of the river where he knew he could safely bathe the roan stallion. He wanted to remove the mud which streaked Sunny's glossy coat before the sun baked it to the consistency of hardened clay. Sunrise, however, quite naturally wanted no part of the river after his narrow escape from its treacherous shores, and laying his ears flat against his head, he refused to approach it. Not one to be outwitted by a horse, Jason used his hat to throw a sufficient amount of water upon the red stallion to rinse off every trace of his harrowing ordeal.

The young man then pulled off his shirt and scrubbed the mud off himself. It was not until his fingertips moved over the hardened muscles of his own chest that he realized how stupid he'd been not to bring Gabrielle with him. He could imagine nothing more pleasurable than joining her in a bath. She'd come into his arms so readily, but he'd shoved her away wanting only to show her how greatly she had disappointed

him. He'd been so damn clever. He really should have ridden here with her in his arms. With the excuse of helping her to wash herself clean, he could have entertained her all afternoon with the most erotic amusements. Instead, he had condemned them both to needless frustration when paradise had been within their grasp. When he turned around Sunrise was eying him suspiciously, "I know what you think, horse, but Til not be content until your mistress is mine!''

Before Gabrielle had walked too far, a small blond boy riding a mule that appeared to have few miles left in him wandered up to her side. "What happened to you, lady?" he asked curiously.

Since he was no more than a child, and a friendly one, Gabrielle saw no reason not to tell him the truth and she replied honestly, ''My horse got caught in some quicksand"— she looked down at her badly soiled dress—"as you can readily see.

Looking out over the vacant plain, the young boy grew excited at the mention of quicksand. "Is he dead?"

"No. Mr. Royal has him."

"That's why you're walking?" The youngster inquired perceptively.

"That's why," Gabrielle admitted, glad he'd asked for no further explanation since she'd not have been able to give it.

After a moment's reflection, the boy broke into a wide grin. "You wanna ride behind me? Comet's plenty strong."

"Comet?" Gabrielle had to laugh for if ever an animal lacked the speed of a comet it was this one. "Are you certain I won't be too much for him?"

"Naw, he's a real brute; that's what my pa always says."

"Then I'd greatly appreciate a ride. Thank you." Gabrielle waited while the boy slipped his foot out of the stirrup so she could use it to boost herself up on his mule's back. When he was certain she was comfortable, he clucked to the old mule and they trotted off to catch up with the line of wagons. "My name is Gabrielle MacLaren, what is yours?"

"Timothy Duffy," the boy answered softly, as if he hoped she wouldn't hear.

Gabrielle gripped his shoulder in a frantic clasp. ''I think you'd better let me off right now, Timothy. Your dad wouldn't approve of your helping me."

Timothy shook his head. "I knew who you were when I first saw you, miss. Since you helped my mom, I figure I owe it to you.

"That's very sweet, Timothy, but not if it will land us both in trouble. I can't allow that."

"Don't worry. Dad's in the back of the wagon asleep, he won't wake up until suppertime and Mom won't care even if she does see us, which she probably won't."

"Where is your family's wagon?" Gabrielle asked quickly, looking back to be certain Sam Duffy hadn't spotted them already.

"It's near the front today, no chance of them seeing us way back here."

Gabrielle was more frightened for the boy than she was for herself, but since his family's wagon was traveling so far ahead she decided to risk riding with him. "Don't they mind that you don't stay right with them?"

"Naw. They don't care as long as I am thereat suppertime to do my chores."

Convinced they were safe for the time being at least, Gabrielle continued to ride with him, but she wished the little boy had been any other man's son than the despicable Sam Duffy's.

While the other young women were too polite to do more than stare wide-eyed as Gabrielle rode up upon the mule's back. Iris let fly a string of insulting questions. "My goodness, Gabrielle, whatever has happened to you? You look simply dreadful! How could you have come to be in such a state? I hope Mr. Home doesn't see you or he'll be certain you've been raped. You weren't attacked by Indians were you? Tortured by those wild creatures? Where is your horse, you haven't lost

him have you?**

When the inquisitive brunette paused for a breath, Cabrielle thanked Timothy again for his kindness and bid him goodbye. As soon as he had left to rejoin his family, she turned to Iris and replied swiftly, "Oh, shut up. It*s none of your damn business where I've been!" They had stopped by the spring Jason had described. It was a lovely spot. In the midst of the river were islands on which cottonwoods grew, and the scene was so charming she could scarcely believe how different the river was here. Searching through her belongings, she found clean clothing and, taking soap and a towel, started off for the water to find a spot where she might bathe before anyone else had an opportunity to remark upon her appearance.

Running along behind her. Erica kept still until they found a secluded spot and Cabrielle began to strip off her clothing. "Give me your dress and I'll do my best to wash it clean, but I'm afraid it's ruined. I know you don't want to confide in Iris, but won't you tell me what happened?"

"As soon as I'm clean, I'll do just that." Cabrielle had already prepared her remarks, going over her story in her mind as she'd ridden along behind Tim. "I rode Sunny too near the shore of the river and he stepped into some quicksand, Mr. Royal helped me to pull him free but since he believed the incident was entirely due to my carelessness he took Sunny with him and left me to walk. Fortunately, I met that little boy who has far more manners than our wagon master does."

"That doesn't sound like Mr. Royal to me, Cabrielle, I thought him a gentleman." Erica looked up no more than a moment and then continued to scrub the mud-soaked dress clean.

"Would any gentleman tell me to walk all afternoon when he was holding the reins of two mounts?" Cabrielle asked pointedly.

"Well, since you didn't have to walk, if he just wanted to punish you, I'd say he failed."

Hoping he'd fail in everything he attempted to force her to

do, Gabrielle pulled on her clean clothing and then knelt down beside her friend. "Here let me do that. It's my dress." But her hands were so sore from digging through the quicksand she had to lean back to rest.

"Gabrielle, look at your hands, they're bleeding!" Erica cried in dismay.

"A few Httle cuts, it's nothing." Gabrielle protested, but she knew she'd have a difficult time doing her laundry with her hands in such an unfortunate condition.

"Just give me that dress and I'll finish it. You'll be no better off if you rinse out the mud and then cover it with bloodstains!"

Sitting back, Gabrielle began to wonder about Timothy's mother. The woman would most probably come down to the water to do her laundry the next morning. Her husband would never come with her so perhaps she could speak with her then to ascertain how the man was behaving. She'd not wanted to question Timothy about him. It seemed unfair to ask the boy about his father, but she still thought someone should be checking up on the family and she doubted Jason had the time to do it.

When she was satisfied she'd done her best. Erica wrung out the dress and stood up. "I'll carry this back for you. Are you certain you're all right?"

"Of course, I'm fine," Gabrielle insisted. "Never better, let's hurry back, Paul might need some help with supper." She pulled on her boots and brushed off the mud, but they needed to be shined. She hoped one of the girls had thought to bring polish with her since she hadn't.

"How long is Mr. Royal going to keep Sunny?"

Gabrielle could not bear to think what she'd have to do to get her dear horse back, but that was not a secret she'd share with Erica. "He didn't say. I'll just have to wait and see I guess."

As they prepared to eat their supper. Erica passed the word softly among her companions, explaining what had happened to Gabrielle since she seemed so reluctant to relate the story

herself. Only Iris seemed disappointed that the truth was not closer to her suspicions. She would have liked nothing better than to have heard the redhead had been raped by dozens of merciless Indian savages.

Gabrielle wrapped her fingers tightly with rags the next morning, and with that protection, she was able to wash all her clothes until they were sparkling clean. She had several muslin dresses, two bright cotton prints which she wore for everyday, her lace-trimmed lingerie, and slips. Everything was hung out to dry on lines strung between the wagons. They had seldom had the time or opportunity to wash all their garments at one time and the scene at the river's edge took on the flavor of a party despite the fact the women were all engaged in strenuous work. The prospect of having their clothing again fresh and clean was too pleasant a one to darken anyone's mood. Never one to do any work she could avoid. Iris solved her problem by paying the daughter of a family whose wagon was parked nearby to launder her things. The girl was happy with the money, and Iris was pleased she didn't have to do her own laundry. She joined the others at the water's edge, however, not wanting to miss any of the delicious gossip she was certain would make all the conversations worth hearing.

When she'd finished her own chores, Gabrielle strolled down the line of women still at work, hoping she would be able to find Mrs. Duffy without too much delay. When she saw Timothy minding his two younger sisters, she peered closely at the women working nearby and noticed his mother. She knelt by her side.

"Mrs. Duffy?"

The woman leaned back, her eyes filling with fright as she recognized Gabrielle. "Go away, I mustn't be seen talking to you!" she whispered hoarsely.

"Why not? I only want to introduce myself."

"I asked your name. Miss MacLaren, and while I think you were a fool to interfere in my argument with my husband, I do appreciate what you tried to do."

"You call that an argument?" Gabrielle asked in dismay. "I thought he meant to kill you!'*

The nervous woman went back to her laundry, scrubbing the collar of a worn shirt. "Leave me be. Miss MacLaren. I didn't ask for your help and I don't need it either."

Distressed that the woman was so ungrateful, Gabrielle hesitated only a moment before getting up to leave. "Just get word to Mr. Royal if you need help, he won't fail you even if you don't trust me."

Mrs. Duffy's lips were set in a firm line. She was too proud to ask for help, that much was plain.

Turning away, Gabrielle stopped to speak to Timothy for a moment. She thanked him again for giving her a ride, and the little boy blushed with pleasure as if his efforts were seldom rewarded with praise. Encouraged, Gabrielle whispered softly so his mother wouldn't overhear. "Please think of me as your friend, Timothy. If I can ever do anything to help you or your little sisters just let me know."

The little girls looked up at the friendly young woman and smiled shyly; then they hid behind their brother's back. "We're all right, miss," Timothy finally mumbled. "Thanks anyway."

Gabrielle bid him goodbye and returned to her friends to enjoy the warmth of the sun. They were all chattering happily about the feast of buffalo meat the men had promised to provide, but she thought only of the confrontation that must come with the hateful Jason Royal.

The men who'd gone hunting for buffalo did not return to the camp until midafternoon for Jason had insisted that any man who shot one of the woolly beasts must skin it and bring back the hide. The hides were to be used to waterproof the wagons when they forded the Platte. While the ribs were delicious barbequed, he demanded that every single morsel of edible meat be carried back to the wagon train to be sliced into thin strips which would be dried into jerky. The hunters left behind on the plains little more than the bones, skulls, and

hooves of the dead buffalo since Jason had told them quite forcefully that it was a hunter's duty to make optimum use of each kill. Half the men had remained behind to guard the camp, but it had been agreed at the outset that their families would share equally in the fruits of the hunt.

Paul was delighted with the side of ribs Jason brought him to prepare, but Gabrielle saw only that the man had had the audacity to ride her stallion. She would not forgive him for that. The horse needed a good rest after what he'd suffered the previous afternoon, but from the sweat which poured down his flanks it was obvious Jason had pushed him to the limit of his endurance. She approached Jason to lodge a strongly worded complaint. "You should not have ridden my horse so hard, Mr. Royal. That was not only stupid but foolhardy as well. He is too fine an animal to exhaust chasing buffalo."