Savage storm (20 page)

affection he'd craved while he'd given her nothing of himself in return. She had no sweet love letters, no rosebud to preserve in one of her books of poetry, no gifts of any kind to keep as souvenirs of the splendor they'd shared. His glance was cold now when they chanced to meet, with no hint of the tenderness she knew him to possess. No. He'd given her nothing but anew layer of pain to wrap around a broken heart. Yet, one night when Iris began to talk about Jason, she found herself unable to walk away.

**Have you seen the way Christina talks to Mr. Royal? She nearly drools all over him, her flirtation is so obvious."

Confused, Margaret inquired shyly, ''Which girl is she? I can't seem to keep the others' names straight in my mind for some reason."

"She's that little blonde with the high squeaky voice. *0h, Mr. Royal, you're so big and strong, won't you please lift my trunk for me?'" Iris imitated the young woman with surprising accuracy. **V\\ just bet she's lifting her skirt for him!"

"Iris!" Johanna protested sharply. "Must you be so common?" As usual she'd been reading her Bible while the light was still good, but unable to help overhearing what had been said, she felt it was her duty to remind Iris to be more ladylike in her conversation.

"Don't you call me common!" Iris snapped right back. "She's the one who plans to catch that man with the oldest ploy a woman has ever used on a man."

"What's that?" Margaret whispered anxiously, her brown eyes alight with curiosity for she found Iris' sophisticated comments fascinating as did several of the others seated nearby. They had little enough excitement to fill their days and the possibility of a scandal was enormously appealing.

"She'll tell him she's pregnant, of course," Iris explained sarcastically, as if that point were too obvious to merit discussion.

"Oh," Margaret replied with a nervous swallow, "Do you really think she'd stoop that low?"

"rm sure of it, unless someone else beats her to it."

Gabrielle had heard enough. ''Iris, let's talk about something else, any other topic but your imaginative gossip. YouVe being most unfair to both Jason and Christina by repeating your unfounded suspicions."

Taking up the challenge. Iris walked up to Gabrielle with a defiant laugh. "And why do you care so much about his reputation when he was more interested in that stallion of yours than he ever was in you? I'll bet you're just sorry you didn't think of forcing him to marry you when you had the chance!"

Gabrielle struck the hostile brunette in the mouth so quickly Iris never even saw her lift her hand. She went sprawling in the dirt, blood gushing from a cut on her lip. Immediately she began to scream loud protests as if she had done nothing to provoke such an attack. Disgusted, Gabrielle turned to go but found Jason blocking her way.

Having no idea what had happened, Jason had run toward the wagon when he'd heard Iris' screams. He usually stayed away from all the young women unless some compelling piece of business forced him to speak with them, but he could not ignore shrieks for help. Now, interested in finding out just what had caused all the uproar, he grabbed Gabrielle by the shoulders and turned her around to face the others. Iris had gotten to her feet and was holding a handkerchief to her bruised mouth as she continued to complain.

"She hit me! Look what Gabrielle did to me and for no reason at all!" Iris waved the bloody handkerchief as if it provided solid evidence of the truth of her words. "Why don't you give her another whipping? She deserves one for doing this to me!" Iris began to sob then, huge pathetic tears which were the result of many years of careful practice in getting her own way. "Well, aren't you going to punish her?" she demanded.

Jason had never regretted any action so greatly as he had that unfortunate spanking. It had been such a foolish move he could imagine no crime dire enough to inspire him to raise a

hand to her in anger again. However, he was expected to keep the peace so he had to know exactly what had happened between the two young women. "I assume you have some ready explanation for this. Miss MacLaren?'' he inquired with what he hoped would pass for admirable restraint.

Lifting her chin proudly, Cabrielle replied, speaking to him for the first time in more than a week. "She made a remark to which I objected, there is nothing more to it."

"What?'' Jason was dumfounded. He'd thought Cabrielle would certainly have something more to say than just admitting she'd hit Iris. "I don't suppose you'd care to repeat that remark?"

"Of course not, but I'm sure Iris will." Cabrielle hoped Iris would have the nerve to repeat what she had said, for she knew Jason's reaction would be every bit as negative as hers had been.

"Well?" Jason turned back toward Iris, certain he was fast losing control of the situation.

"It doesn't matter what I said; she had no right to hit me!" Iris shrieked as she began to weep an even larger flood of tears.

Sorry he'd even attempted to straighten out the mess which was so rapidly deteriorating, Jason took Cabrielle by the arm and spoke loudly as he led her away. "We will let Mr. Home settle this, since that is more his job than mine."

"I don't care what he wants to do to me, the bitch deserved it," Cabrielle whispered.

Shocked by her language, Jason remained silent until they reached his tent where they found Clayton nowhere in sight. "All right now, before Clay comes back, tell me what really happened." He folded his arms across his chest and glared down at her, not letting any of his delight at this unexpected excuse to be with her again show in his expression.

Cabrielle turned away, pacing slowly in front of him as she tried to choose her words with care. "Iris is a difficult person, very critical of others and when she began some rather nasty gossip tonight I asked her to stop."

"I see. You just said something like, *Stop it. Iris,' and then punched her in the mouth?'* He knew he had aroused Gahrielle's temper rather easily, hut he'd not thought she would hehave that way with her traveling companions.

"No," Gabrielle replied truthfully. "When I objected to her gossip she then made me the target of one of her vicious attacks. It was then I hit her."

Bone-weary, Jason sat down in front of his tent and propped his elbows across his knees. "How could she possibly have insulted you, Gabrielle?"

"I'll not repeat it. You must insist she tell you if you have to know." Gabrielle continued to pace, her mood still a most agitated one. "I don't care what you do to me; it was worth it to finally shut her mouth."

"Look, everybody's nerves are frazzled, but don't you see what you did was no different from Sam Duffy's hitting his wife? You were glad I went to her defense; do you think I should take Iris' side now?"

Gabrielle found it difficult to look at Jason without remembering how comfortable she'd been in his arms. That had been paradise, yet here they were arguing like strangers who could not seem to agree on anything. "I think there is a great difference between his attempting to beat his wife senseless and the fact that I slapped Iris for insulting me."

"Oh, of course. One is needless violence and the other a defense of honor; is that it?" Jason scoffed at her reasoning.

"Precisely."

"Well I'll be damned if I .kno'w what to do with you, Gabrielle. You're the best of the lot, by far the brightest and most perceptive. If you start using your fists instead of logic to get your way where will it end?"

Before Gabrielle could reply. Erica rushed up to speak in her behalf. "Mr. Royal, I know whatever Gabrielle told you is the truth. Iris insults everybody and tonight when she mentioned you—

"What?" The young man leaped to his feet, astonished to

think he had been the subject of the fight between the two women.

Gabrielle sprang forward too. "Erica please, you needn't repeat any of it!"

Not one to back down, Erica continued. "Iris mentioned something about one of the other girls and you, Mr. Royal. Gabrielle said that was most unfair and asked her to change the subject, but then Iris just got more abusive."

Jason had not expected this shocking turn of events, and he hoped Clay wouldn't appear until he'd settled it. "Thank you. Miss Nelson. If I need you to be a witness I'll call you later. Good night."

Surprised to be dismissed so abruptly. Erica nevertheless offered her friend an encouraging smile and turned to go. She sincerely hoped she'd helped her since she knew Gabrielle would never tell Jason Royal what Iris had said.

Facing her squarely, Jason jammed his hands in his hip pockets to keep from wrapping them around Gabrielle's lovely neck. "Shall we begin once again? Now tell me exactly what happened, I think you owe me that much."

"No. I do not. Iris simply has an evil imagination and I'll not repeat her lies."

Jason closed his eyes and counted to five before he looked down again at Gabrielle and attempted to speak calmly. "Thank you for that vote of confidence, for I have given no one any reason to link my name with one of the brides."

Gabrielle stared up at him for a long moment, longing to reach up and kiss the pulse which throbbed so steadily in his throat but she knew she'd lost the right to be so bold.

"Ejtcept for me?" she whispered softly, scarcely believing she'd had the nerve to say that to him.

Jason straightened to his full height, his expression growing as dark as his mood. "I have no idea what you are talking about. Miss MacLaren, for nothing ever happened between us, absolutely nothing. We will consider this matter settled, but I want your word you will never strike Iris again no matter what

the provocation."

Gabrielle was so hurt by his curt rebuff that she began to back away, uncertain as to what it was he wanted her to promise. "No, it's not wrong to defend myself, and Til not swear not to do it!" With that fiery outburst she turned and ran, her tiny feet carrying her off into the gathering dusk before he realized he'd said none of the things he'd truly wanted to say.

wAa/i/e/o ^yzfy

When she had first heard the name Fort Laramie, Gabrielle had assumed it would be a fortified stockade staffed by Army personnel in dusty blue uniforms. However, the American Fur Company actually owned the fort and there was not a single soldier in residence. The Black Hills provided an imposing backdrop to the landmark. Built of sun-dried bricks, the outpost was rectangular in shape but blockhouses projected from the two front corners to form bastions. The blockhouses expanded the wall behind which defenders could fire their weapons. The walls themselves were fifteen feet high and were topped with sharpened stakes as an additional measure of security to discourage invaders. Since the main gate was open all day and Indians coming to trade were allowed free access, Gabrielle wondered what enemy might possibly attack the establishment. It was a question she knew Jason would be able to answer, but the indifference he'd shown her during their last conversation discouraged her from seeking him out to inquire. She had decided to simply observe instead so she might learn all she could about Fort Laramie on her own.

Inside the high wall, the fort was separated into two distinct areas. One half was used as a corral to shelter horses and mules

during the night, while the other contained the offices, storerooms, and apartments of the residents. The atmosphere was a Hvely one. Canadian and American trappers came and went during the day, conducting their business, and Indians also were seen about the stockade. For the young women accustomed to no more excitement than they had experienced along the trail, it was a fascinating place. Although their needs for provisions were few, they strolled through the gates of the fort at their first opportunity, wanting only to absorb its stimulating environment if not to contribute to its prosperity.

As Jason had promised, Gabrielle had ample opportunity to observe Indians here. While they inspired her curiosity. Erica clung to her arm, certain their scalps would end up dangling from some brave's lance if they weren't careful.

''Let's go back to the wagons now, please!" she begged.

"You may go back if you wish, but I want to stay awhile longer. I'm so tired of riding it is simply a joy to walk about as though this were a real town instead of no more than a trading post.

Erica was not about to return to the wagon alone, biit as she continued to watch the fort's many colorful visitors her apprehension did not lessen. "Do you suppose Oregon City is no larger than this outpost?"

"We've been told very little about the place, but the answer is no. I'm certain it is a thriving town with shops of all kinds. At least I certainly hope it is." As Gabrielle turned she saw Jason crossing the courtyard, his long sure stride a sudden reminder of the easy grace with which his lean body had always conquered hers. She blushed deeply at the memory and her senses were flooded with a desperate longing for him. Looking away quickly to distract herself with a less imaginative subject, she noticed a group of Indian men lounging near the corral. One had apparently dared another to try to ride an unbroken pony, and his friends were laughing heartily as they teased the young brave when he refused to do it.

"Have you ever spoken with an Indian, Erica, ever met one?" Gabrielle asked.

''Good Lord no!'' The pretty young woman shuddered at the very thought. "Why would I even want to speak with one?"

"FIl bet they have many things to say worth hearing," Gabrielle mused aloud as she continued to watch the group by the corral. They reminded her of the young men she'd known in Liberty, for they seemed to enjoy games just as much. She had not realized Indians had such playful natures or that their young men were so attractive. The braves' bodies were as sleek as panthers, and although they were young their actions had such a timeless quality that Gabrielle felt she was watching a scene which could have taken place hundreds of years earlier.

The young braves, finished with that particular bit of sport, started off toward the trading post, but the one who had begun the joke remained behind for a moment as if tempted to ride the spirited pony himself. When he turned to follow his friends he saw Gabrielle observing him with a curious stare that he found most intriguing. He had seen white women—all the wagon trains stopped at the fort—but this was no farmer's wife with several children clinging to her skirt. This was a pretty young woman no older than himself. A slow smile spread across his face as he thought how striking the color of her hair was, a shimmering red he longed to reach out and touch. Not a man to laugh in fortune's face when it presented him with so fine an opportunity he started toward her, hoping the curiosity which filled her sky-blue gaze would turn to admiration rather than fear.