Savage storm (4 page)

"Joshua Taylor is his name?" Jason reached out and took the envelope, hastily scanning the neatly penned letter he found inside. "Well he mentions the names of three of the men we included. Says they're close friends and says he has good land and a sturdy house built. He probably doesn't want to be the only bachelor left among his friends. What do you think?"

Clayton frowned, his worry plain, "We were so careful with the others I was hoping you could vouch for Taylor since I can't. He would make twenty-one and then we could take Miss MacLaren with us. I couldn't help but notice how interested you were in her. Not that I 'didn't like her immediately too, because I did, but she seems to be too elegant a creature to wed a farmer and be content to work from dawn to dusk. I'll leave it up to you: shall we accept Taylor's money and take her, or not?"

Jason shrugged as if the matter were of little importance to him. "Let's wait and see if all the ladies we asked to return actually do so. If we have less than twenty then Miss MacLaren will be a substitute; if all twenty are there at ten, then we'll accept Taylor's money and take Gabrielle for him."

"You mean tell her this Taylor is to be her husband?" Clayton asked incredulously.

"Why not? They both seem to have cut things pretty close. I'd say they are a perfect match."

"Well, I don't know." Clayton refolded the letter and

replaced it in the envelope. 'They'd be the only ones without a choice then and that just doesn't seem fair."

"All right, then don't tell her about Taylor!" Jason replied irritably. "We'll just tell her we've received another bachelor's fee and she'll be among the brides going with us."

After a moment's hesitation, Clayton nodded. "Fine. Were you able to find her a nice room?"

"I gave her mine." Jason nodded toward the door. "I haven't heard a sound from her as yet though. She might just sleep right through our meeting if you don't knock on the door to awaken her." He had no intention of risking such an action himself after the way they had parted.

Startled by that possibility, Clayton got up and walked over to the door. After listening closely for a long moment he knocked several times. "Miss MacLaren? It's Clayton Home, I don't want you to be late for the meeting, my dear."

Jason waited for what he hoped would be a sweetly worded reply but Clayton's call went unanswered. "She must be a sound sleeper. Try knocking again." When Clayton's insistent pounding again brought no response Jason got to his feet and, after crossing the room quickly, tried the door and found it unlocked.

"Wait a minute, you can't just walk into Miss MacLaren's room!" Clayton cried out in dismay.

"Aren't you forgetting the room is mine?" Jason brushed past him to find the bedroom empty. The bed had been slept in, the towels by the pitcher and wash basin were damp, but the lovely Miss MacLaren was gone and so was her cumbersome valise. Exasperated, Jason threw up his hands in disgust, "Well, that settles it, the lady's gone so whomever Joshua Taylor might be, he's out of luck."

"Damn!" Clayton muttered angrily. "Why couldn't things have worked out as we'd hoped they would? I could have used Taylor's cash for additional provisions!" Disgusted, he jammed the stranger's letter into his pocket and went back to

his room. Meanwhile Jason stood, silently enjoying the subtle trace of the young beauty's perfume which still lingered upon the morning air as an erotic reminder of the intimate moment they'd shared and he remembered all too well.

Gabrielle walked briskly along the crowded sidewalk. She couldn't just sit in Jason Royal's room while she waited for the hours to pass so she'd again left her valise at the desk and had struck out on her own to explore the town and to distract herself from the inevitable rejection she was sure would come. Kansas City was only a short distance from Independence where the wagon trains formed before they set out on the Oregon Trail, and the merchants seemed to be doing a good business selling supplies which would be needed for the trip. Gabrielle could feel the excitement in the air as families swept past her, their faces aglow as they made last-minute preparations for their great adventure, and she envied them. She was so close to making the journey, and yet she knew if only ten of theyoung women Mr. Home expected to attend the final meeting arrived Jason Royal would insist there was no place for her. The more she thought about their late-night confrontation the more mortified she became. She raised her hand to her lips as though people she passed in her walk could see how wantonly she'd behaved. She had never expected to kiss another man the way she'd kissed Beau, with the slow, sweet passion his love had always inspired. Jason Royal had simply caught her by surprise that was all. He'd taken advantage of her mood, encouraged her to confide in him, and then had pushed the trust he'd inspired to it's limit. Well, perhaps not to its limit since she'd come to her senses so swiftly, but had she not been so shocked, she was certain he would have suggested they share her bed. His bed she supposed it was actually. Furious all over again as she thought of the nerve of the man, she forgot to watch the time and then had to lift her skirt and run from the far end of the

town all the way back to the hotel, much to the delight of the gentlemen she passed with no more than a breathless smile.

Clayton Home was pleased to see all twenty young women had returned as promised and nudged Jason. "It's after ten, why don't you begin."

Jason nodded absently as he looked around the room, silently counting the young ladies who were seated in a semicircle in front of him. Coffee and tea had been served when suddenly it seemed to him that he and Clayton had made a terrible mistake. They had selected young women who could sip tea politely, who had pretty smiles and bright glances; but what they should have sought were strong lasses who could not only face the hardships of the Oregon Trail but survive them. Clearing his throat, he began in what he hoped would be such a convincing tone that the assembled ladies would quickly flee.

"Good morning. Mr. Home and I would like to take this opportunity to thank each and every one of you for responding to our advertisement. As some of you know, in the early 1840s, countless numbers of single men braved the rigors of the Oregon Trail to establish farms in the fertile valley of the Willamette River. Last year, by treaty with Great Britain, the United States gained exclusive control of the Oregon country and now, in 1847, the route is traveled by families following in the footsteps of the many gallant early pioneers. However, single women being so few, the men who were among the first to arrive have begun to despair of ever finding brides. Mr. Home, being the sympathetic friend that he is, offered to do his best to bring ladies as charming as you to Oregon City, where you'll find men eagerly waiting to become your husbands." Jason paused for a moment, wanting to be certain he had their rapt attention before he continued. "While that happy prospect is what brought you all here, what lies ahead is beyond imagining. The way is more than difficult; it is tortuous, fraught with perils which will surpass your worst

fears. We will have to cross two thousand miles of inhospitable terrain, brave the harshness of the elements and the fury of Indian tribes who see our passage through their lands as an assault by an enemy force. You will be only a small portion of a wagon train consisting of more than fifty families—the wagons are already assembling just outside Independence—and as soon as we join them we will make plans to depart on what for many will be the last journey they will ever take."

Jason hoped they understood the dangers to which he was referring, but their fascinated stares told him little. "I went to Oregon by the ocean route as a child, so when I first crossed the narrow path that was to become the Oregon Trail I traversed it in reverse, going from the coast to Independence. Had I not known, when I served for the first time as a scout for a wagon train in 1843, that the beauty which awaited us was worth our sacrifice, I would have been among the first to turn back. There were few families on that trip that did not lose someone: a precious child, a dearly loved wife, a pretty bride as each of you ladies will be. The trail has killed the strongest of men, but the suffering it inflicts upon women is especially cruel. I want all of you to take a few moments to reflect upon your own lives, to consider in your hearts the warm and safe homes you are leaving behind, the dear relatives you may never see again. I will not fault any of you who wishes to withdraw her application. I will place them upon the table by the door, simply remove yours as you leave. This decision is the most important one you will ever make, and I caution you to weigh your choices carefully; for once the Oregon Trail is begun, you will not be able to turn back."

As Jason carried the neatly printed application forms to the front of the room, he saw Cabrielle MacLaren standing just inside the^door. How long she'd been listening he didn't know, but he could tell by her expression that she had counted those present and knew she had no chance of being included in the group unless someone left. He had not thought the mere sight of her sad, sweet smile would stir him so, yet he found her even

more lovely than he had the previous afternoon. Walking to her side, he whispered softly, "Please wait a moment longer, some are sure to leave."

Gabrielle disagreed and said so. "After that impassioned plea none will dare admit to having so little courage as to back out. You have your twenty brides, Mr. Royal, I'm certain of it."

Jason was unconvinced, but when, as she had predicted, none of the young women stirred, he turned his back on the room so they might converse with some degree of privacy. "You mean I only strengthened their resolve, my warnings did not discourage them?"

"I am certain their decision was made as mine was, the very moment I chanced to read your advertisement." Gabrielle had been able to observe little other than the young women's proud posture as they sat on the edges of their chairs. "You have a determined group here, but as you can see, there is no place for me.

She lifted her chin proudly, for she was positive he'd not forgotten her refusal to consider some alternative arrangement for her passage. She'd not be going to Oregon with his wagon train. It seemed that her aunt had reached from beyond the grave to ruin her plans for living at least part of the dream she'd had with Beau. She'd not cry again; she'd keep her sorrow to herself as she'd learned to do. She extended her hand to say goodbye.

"I wish you good luck, Mr. Royal. I hope your journey is both a safe and swift one regardless of your fears."

"My fears are well founded in experience. Miss MacLaren, but I insist you remain a moment longer to hear what I have to say. It was no mere chance that you happened to see our advertisement, but fate. Another bachelor has joined our list of clients and we need to provide twenty-one brides instead of twenty. If my speech did not have the desired effect upon the others, did it influence you to return to Liberty or do you still wish to go with us?"

Gabrielle tried to read the expression in Jason's eyes. They

were gray—she saw their color clearly now—a deep, piercing gray, and she knew she had to respond with the utmost tact. "I want very much to go to Oregon, to have a home and a husband waiting for me to arrive would make the journey worthwhile no matter what the risk. I only hope that what happened between us last night will not make the trip an impossible one for me.'*

Jason chuckled at that taunt, for despite Gabrielle's poise and composure, she was very young. He could tell she had given the incident far more consideration than it had deserved. She had probably not kissed any man since her beloved Beau had left Liberty to make his way west, and undoubtedly her anguish over their embrace was tinged with guilt. His anger with her had melted away the moment he'd seen her standing at the door, and he teased her now with a ready grin.

"You mean the horrors you'll have to survive on the trail do not compare to the agony of my affection?"

"Mr. Royal!" The auburn-haired beauty's creamy complexion took on a bright blush as she stammered. "There is nothing wrong with your affection, it was merely so unexpected that I-"

"I will be happy to forget the incident entirely if you will. Miss MacLaren." Jason's eyes took on a teasing sparkle that let her know he forgot little.

"It is the only way I will consent to go, Mr. Royal. As you pointed out, to begin the journey is to accept one of the men waiting at its conclusion as my husband, and I do not want him to regret that I made the trip."

Offering his arm, Jason smiled warmly. "That would be impossible. Miss MacLaren. Now won't you come with me to join the others?"

Gabrielle licked her lips slowly. "I suppose the worst that could happen to me is that I could die." She would then be with Beau again so that prospect scarcely frightened her; it was having to live without him for the rest of her life that was terrifying. At the very least she could live her life in Oregon as they'd planned. "Yes. I still want very much to go with them

if I may."

Startled by her comment, Jason offered calm reassurance as he escorted her to a vacant seat. "Believe me. Miss MacLaren, if I leave Independence, Missouri with twenty-one brides, I will arrive in Oregon City with each one in perfect health. You have my word on it." The other young women turned as Gabrielle sat down, some smiling in a friendly fashion, others merely curious, and Jason saw on the faces of the prettiest, a sudden flash of jealousy so thick he knew he never should have let Clayton talk him into arranging to transport other men's brides in the first place.

While the rest of the announcements would be brief, Jason could not shake his earlier feeling of foreboding. Knowing the sooner they began the journey the more swiftly it would come to an end, he began to address the assembled group in the hope that they could soon be on their way.

"We have arranged for carriages to take you to Independence. As Mr. Home cautioned you yesterday, luggage must be kept to a minimum. We'll need most of the room in the three wagons we've assigned to your use to transport our provisions. We'll separate you ladies into three equal groups, but other than storing your luggage and sleeping in the wagons, I doubt you'll want to spend much time riding in them. I think you'll prefer to spend most of your time on horseback. We have a large selection of gentle mounts so I'm sure even those of you who have Httle experience with horses will soon become proficient riders. Now are there any questions before I leave to summon the carriages?"