This Savage Heart (2 page)

Julie could barely see the gray canvas of the wagon ahead of her as she urged her horses down the gentle slope of the riverbank and into the black, churning river. The horses balked as they felt the icy water, and she snapped the reins again, hard. Wind whipped about her face, making her eyes burn and tear. Blinking furiously, ducking her head against the wind, she gripped the reins tightly and forced her team onward into the water.

Suddenly the wagon gave a sharp lurch to the left, and she realized, terrified, that the mist was descending so quickly that she couldn’t see anything at all. Elisa’s wagon was no longer visible, and she had planned to follow that, because there was no one beside her to grasp the guide rope. But the rope
had
to be there, she knew that. Wrapping the reins around her left hand, continuing to pop them up and down to force the horses forward, she moved along the rough wooden bench to the right, groping for the rope in the mist. It wasn’t there.

The horses stumbled, this time more sharply, and Julie realized they were floundering. The wagon and the horses were all afloat. She had gotten off the track, into a place where the water was too deep for the wagon wheels to touch bottom. Freezing water flowed across her feet, rising to her calves. Then suddenly she was thrown sideways, the reins torn from her as she groped for the seat, trying frantically to stay in the wagon.

Ahead and, oh, too far to her right, cheers of triumph rose above the crash of the river. Myles had made it. But she saw how far from his wake she was. She had been caught in the current and was being swept downriver. She groped for the reins, then gave that up and held tightly to the sides of the bench, struggling to keep from being thrown into the water.

Another cheer. Micah had made it across. They all sounded so far away. Too far. She screamed, screamed long and loudly, but the sound wasn’t enough, and the waters rushed over it. Just then, the wagon lurched over into the thrashing waters.

At the destination point on the riverbank, Derek was helping haul up Elisa Thatcher’s wagon. He froze. Had he heard a scream? He ran along the bank. Thirty yards or so downriver, he saw a wagon, bobbing and rolling in the mist, the black figures of horses struggling. Was he seeing right? Without thinking, he threw himself into the churning foam, calling on every shred of strength to take him through the churning current. He called Julie’s name—who else could it be?—and felt a stab as he heard her feeble cry.

Behind him, in the distance, Myles shouted, “Hang on, Derek, I’m coming!”

“Stay back!” Derek yelled, hoping he could be heard.

He stretched out his right arm, and his fingertips touched a flailing hand. He jerked her to him. Holding her neck in the crook of his left arm, hearing her desperate gulps for air, he shouted, “The river bends just below here. We’ll let the current take us in. We should touch ground soon. Stretch your legs. Feel for it.”

Gasping, she struggled, choking now and then, for she had gone under once and swallowed a great deal of water.

They were swept along, the river apparently playing with them. They were tossed and rolled like twigs. “The bottom!” Derek suddenly cried. He pushed forward with all his power. Then, when the water had subsided to chest level, he pulled Julie into his arms and carried her through the water and up the bank. Gently, he laid her down on the ground.

Julie coughed and gasped, her body convulsed by a deep chill. Derek knelt beside her, running his hands over her to feel for broken bones. “Are you all right? Do you hurt anywhere?”

She shook her head and gasped, “I’m just out of breath. I must have swallowed a lot of water when I went under. The wagon turned over.”

Faintly, from far away, Myles’s voice reached them. Cupping his hands around his mouth, Derek hollered that they were both safe but would have to wait until daylight to return to the others. He turned back to Julie. “Stay here. I’ll try to find some kind of shelter for the night.”

Trembling with fear and cold, Julie lay there as he moved away, deep into the darkness. A little later he returned and carried her to the shelter of an overhanging ledge. She watched his huge shadow as he moved about, gathering wood, building a fire, the ledge sheltering them from the howling wind. She waited for him to unleash his anger at her, but instead, once he had the fire going, he said casually, “Take off your clothes, Julie.”

She drew her knees up to her chest. “I’ll do no such thing!”

As though addressing a child in the throes of a tantrum, he said patiently, “You can’t sit there all night in wet clothes. I’ll put your things by the fire, and they should be dry before long.”

He stepped into the shadows and soon reappeared. In the firelight, he was naked.

“Why are you embarrassed?” he grinned. “We were marooned on an island once, and we frolicked naked for quite some time. You didn’t mind then.”

“That was then,” she snapped, not really knowing what to say. “Things have changed. Or maybe they never were the way we thought they were. Maybe everything just seemed the way we wanted it to be.”

He shook his head wearily. “Don’t you think you’ve caused enough problems for one night? Thanks to you, we’re stuck here, wet and cold, and a big storm is about to break. We’ve got to try to get back across in the morning, come snow or rain or hell frozen over. Now take off your clothes so we can get them dry.”

“There wouldn’t be this trouble if you hadn’t tried to keep me from taking my wagon across,” she said bitterly. “You hated my having my own wagon, and you didn’t think I could handle it.”

“You couldn’t,” he pointed out brusquely, “so now it’s gone. I just hope the horses made it across all right. We can’t look for them in the dark. I tried to tell you all along that a woman isn’t capable of handling a wagon and a team on such a rough journey. You’ve destroyed a good wagon, held everyone up, and damned near gotten yourself drowned. Now take off your clothes!”

He was right. Julie began to work the buttons on her dress, but the cloth was soaking wet and her fingers were numb and stiff. Finally she had peeled everything off. She handed him her clothes, covering her breasts with her arms. Then she shrank farther into the shelter of the overhang.

Derek stretched the wet things out near the fire. She hated herself for the rush she felt at the sight of his naked magnificence. She had always thought his body a sculpture of proud, masculine flesh, and the sight of it again flooded her with memories of glory she’d known in those strong arms.

His back to her, he murmured, “You’re going to have to come close to the fire, Julie, and get warm.”

She was already quite warm from looking at him, but she was determined he would never know that.

He sighed. “Julie, you know me well enough to do better than that. When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it. Now get over here, or I’ll drag you.”

She stepped toward the warmth of the fire. “What do we do now?” she said icily, giving her braids an angry toss. The nerve of the man!

He held out his arms to her, his handsome face mirroring amusement. “You are going to lie next to me, so we can keep each other warm.”

He laughed softly at her astonishment. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to seduce you. We’re going to sleep, Julie.”

Blast him, his arms did look so inviting. There was nothing to do but walk over and lie down beside him. Arms still folded across her chest, she turned her back against him, lying spoon-fashion. He wrapped himself around her, his thighs beneath her buttocks, and held her close. When his lips touched her ear and she felt the warm tickle of his breath, she began trembling.

He pulled her closer still and whispered, “Julie.” When she went rigid, he said, “It doesn’t have to be this way, misty eyes.”

She struggled in his grasp. “Please. Just leave me alone, Derek. I just want morning to be here quickly. Please.”

His voice was strangely sad as he said, “When I was a kid I’d go to bed real early on Christmas Eve, wanting to fall asleep quickly so the night would hurry and be over. I wanted to wake up and find Christmas. But you know, that was the one night of the year sleep wouldn’t come, because I was so excited.” He pressed his lips gently against her ear and whispered, “You always were stubborn, Julie.”

She felt the heat of his desire, and it was agony. She prayed for sleep and was furious when it did not come. When she heard Derek’s even breathing, knowing that he was able to sleep, she was even angrier.

The night wore on, and Julie lay awake. Several times she tried to move from Derek’s arms, but at her slightest movement, he gripped her harder, holding her tightly against him as he slept. And all the while she was tormented by wanting him, yearning beyond endurance for the very man who held her close against him. She wanted to feel him inside her, to know once again the joy he had given her before.

She blinked back her tears. She could not give in to her yearnings no matter how painfully they seared her. Not now, and perhaps never again. For she acknowledged that Derek Arnhardt could never love her—not in the way she needed to be loved. She needed to be loved completely. He was not capable of giving all of himself to her. Maybe he was incapable of giving everything to any woman.

She passed what remained of the night watching the fire die out, and holding tightly to her sadness.

Chapter Two

They were standing up, both naked, bare flesh touching, the thick, dark down of his broad chest tickling her taut nipples. She stood on tiptoe, and he stooped to allow his erect shaft to slide teasingly between her thighs. A moan of delight bubbled from her arched throat as he touched that fire source between her legs. Hot flames ignited her loins.

Ever so gently, he lowered her to the ground, moving his body over hers. His mouth crushed her lips, then withdrew a little to tantalize her mouth gently with his tongue. She spread her thighs, bent her knees, and yielded herself. At his first, probing thrusts, her hands groped for his firm, rounded buttocks. How she loved to feel his hips moving while he pounded into her, as waves pound against a shore.

She received him, all of him, marveling at the giant roar building within. How beautifully her small body received his magnificence.

Again and again he pummeled into her, and her buttocks rose to meet him. Her fingers dug into his flesh, urging him on. Never let it end, she cried silently. Never let this moment end…

“Julie, wake up. Thomas is starting to cross with the horses.”

She looked around wildly, sitting bolt upright. The world was gray and cold. Everything came back in a rush. She shivered.

Derek was standing several yards away, beyond the sheltering overhang and the embers of the fire. He was dressed, his back to her, straining in the dim light of a stormy dawn to see Thomas making his way across the river, leading two horses.

Snowflakes shimmered above the water before falling to dissolve and die. The storm was just starting. There was time to get across the river and join the others. And, she realized, there would have been time to get her wagon: Derek had been right.

She scrambled to her feet, pushing at the wild strands of hair, and hurried into her stiff, dried clothes. Derek turned around and gave her a lopsided grin. “That must have been some dream you were having, Julie. The sounds you were making were… Anybody I know?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said flatly, turning away quickly so he wouldn’t see her face. She could feel her cheeks flaming. Had she cried out his name? Oh, Lord! If he ever knew of the dreams that came too often, the dreams that tortured her!

He walked over. Cupping her chin, forcing her to meet his fiery gaze, he said, “Damn it, woman, why do you have to be so stubborn? What we had was good—and you know it. I can feel the longing in you. I see it in your eyes. You were dreaming about me just now.” He paused to take a ragged breath before continuing, “I dream, too, Julie, and I’m not ashamed of it. I admit that I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman. Why do you deny us?” He gave her a gentle shake, then released her. She said nothing, and a long silence enveloped them.

“Julie, damn it, answer me!” Derek commanded angrily. “We haven’t talked since we had that fight—”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She cut him off in a weary voice. “We argued because you thought we were going to pick up where we left off—in bed. It can’t be that way. It
won’t
be. I won’t let it. It’s not enough.”

“I’ve never lied to you, Julie,” he said quietly. “I told you I never intend to marry, no matter how beautiful or pleasurable I find a woman, and I find you both. I have told you that I desire you more than I’ve ever desired any woman, that I want to keep you with me always. More than that I can’t give. That has to be enough.”

“Well, damn you, Derek Arnhardt, it isn’t enough!” she exploded, jerking away from him. “I won’t be any man’s mistress. Who do you think you are, expecting it? I’m not some…some trollop.”

“I happen to care for you a great deal,” he told her simply. “And I believe I can make you happier than any man you could marry. Marriage doesn’t make for happiness forever. Look at the couples on our wagon train. Some are completely miserable. They don’t love each other. Maybe they never did, but if they ever did, the love is dead now. Yet they’re stuck with each other for the rest of their lives. They have children. Their lives are interwoven now whether they want it that way or not.