White Dawn (14 page)

Emily laughed, nervously. Yet she felt surprisingly fond of this blustery woman. “I have a feeling even if it was rude, you’d ask.” Mary didn’t respond. Taking a deep breath, Emily gave a brief version of the events that had led to her being here.

When she was finished, Mary stood. Apparently the explanation was enough. She said, “I don’t mean to be disrespectful of the dead, Emily, but I can’t feel sorry for your father. He sentenced you to death when he left you! If you ask me, and even if you don’t, that man got what he deserved.”

Emily’s eyes swam with tears. “But not my mother,” she whispered.

Mary put her arms around her. “No. Not your mother. Wish I could say she should have been stronger, Emily. But she, too, was a victim of your father’s fanaticism.”

She turned toward the house, suddenly all business. “I’ve got some material—trade cloth and such for the natives. We’ll whip up a dress for you. In the meantime, I can loan you something to wear.”

That sounded great to Emily but for one thing. “Mary, I can’t pay for the material. I don’t have any money!” She ran to catch up with her new friend.

Mary rounded on her, her brownish-green eyes fiery her expression indignant. “You saved John’s life. That’s enough.”

Emily stopped the other woman. “Yeah, but it was because of me that he was careless.” She still felt guilty about it.

“Nonsense. He’s going to be all right now—that’s what’s important. Sometimes things just happen. There’s no telling why.”

Emily thought about that. Maybe Mary was right. But doubt still lingered in Emily’s mind and heart.

Ben didn’t waste any time once the women left. “Well? Spit it out. Where did that beauty come from?”

Seeing Ben’s bemused expression still trained on the door, and Mary and Emily walking away, John growled low in his throat. “Best remember you’re married,
old man.
” At the warning tone in his master’s voice, Fang lifted his head and glanced from one man to the other. John motioned for the animal to be still and sent his friend a hard glare.

Ben, in his early thirties, had been one of the first trappers John had met when he’d first joined his grandfather out here. John hadn’t known the first thing about surviving in the wilderness; he’d been as green and cocky as they came. But Ben had taken him in hand and, as a result, the two had formed a fast friendship. Like most trappers, Ben was single in those early days, and they’d all made the trip downriver together. John and Ben had shared more than one night of drinking and carousing. Two years ago, Ben had surprised them all when he’d returned from St. Louis with a wife.

Grinning, Ben just lifted his brows. “Married don’t mean a man can’t look or appreciate beauty when he sees it.” His smile turned to a grimace. “’Course, best if Mary don’t know that!”

“Your wife would skin you alive,” John agreed, pleased and relieved. Not that Ben actually posed a threat. Of course, it seemed he had given away more of his feelings than he’d planned.

Uncomfortable under his friend’s speculative stare, John pulled himself up to sit, shifting his body so he could lean against the wall. “Women! Always fussing and carrying on.” Though he had to admit all this moving around had started a painful throbbing in his thigh. Once settled, he turned back to Ben, hoping to distract the man so he wouldn’t have to explain Emily’s presence. “So what’s new in St. Louis?”

“Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not sidesteppin’ this one, pal.” Ben settled on a stool and waited.

John sighed, then gave an account of how he’d found Emily. He still remembered his reaction when he’d seen her sleeping on the bed of furs: disbelief followed by wonder. She’d looked so young. So vulnerable. So beautiful.

Then, when she’d opened her eyes, the world had seemed to stand still. One glance into her eyes and he’d felt like a man drowning in those blue pools. In that instant, John knew this woman was something special. Why she was there, who she’d been with—none of that mattered. Only that she was there, a gift to be treasured.

He’d never believed in love at first sight. He’d figured Ben had exaggerated his first meeting with Mary. But he believed now. He could only hope that she’d allow him to court her and prove to her that he would never hurt her.

A shirt landing in his lap jerked John back to reality, and to Ben, who sat staring at him, his eyes wide, his jaw slack. “I don’t believe you! You just
found
her? You know how incredible that sounds?”

John nodded. “Couldn’t believe it myself.” He closed his eyes. “I’ve dreamed of finding someone like her. Then one day I return home, and there she is. I felt like someone had left me a gift, you know?” His voice softened without his even being aware of it.

His friend let out a long whistle. “Fallen hard, haven’t you?”

“Yeah. Guess I have.” And he knew he had. How could he bear to take her back to society, knowing he’d never see her again? Yet how could he not? In the days since he’d found her, he’d discovered a core of steel hidden beneath that fragile, lost-girl look Emily wore.

Yes, he was impressed by this woman. Aside from surviving the fate of her parents, having had the presence of mind to keep herself hidden from the attacking Indians, knowing not to run from the wolves, she’d kept her wits about her when he’d injured himself. Though her own life had been in shambles, she’d taken charge of his—and saved it.

He admitted, “She’s incredible, Ben. I couldn’t ask for more in a wife.”

Smiling, his own eyes glazed with some fond memory, Ben sighed. “Yep, you got hit hard, pal. Just like me when I first saw Mary storming into that saloon—all piss and vinegar. Lord, was she a handful. And a vision.”

John met Ben’s amused and besotted glance. His friend’s story was unique. Mary had thought Ben responsible for her brother’s death, and she’d been prepared to take her revenge. Luckily for them both, Ben had convinced her that she had the wrong man.

John’s friend gave him an interested look. “So you’re gonna take her back to the mission. Then what?”

Heaving a big sigh, John ran his hands through his hair and grimaced. He needed a bath desperately. He felt grimy, and didn’t like feeling that way around Emily. Maybe he would shave, too. “I don’t know. Guess it’s up to her. I’d like to court her properly. But can’t do that unless I gain her trust. She’s been hurt badly. And used.”

Ben shook his bushy head. Worry shadowed his gray eyes. “She’s not one of your many animals to be nursed back to health, you know.”

John knew that only too well. True, he’d found her lost and alone, with a broken heart and an injured spirit. But unlike the wild animals he healed, then set free, he didn’t want to let Emily go. Deep inside, he’d discovered a very primitive core: a part that urged him just to claim what was his.

And she
was
his. She was meant to be with him. “Can’t explain it, Ben. I feel like I’ve known her all my life, like she’s a part of me here.” He thumped his chest.

Ben grinned, a silly, lopsided expression. “Same as when I met Mary. Wasn’t no one else for me after I saw her. Even when I hauled her out of trouble and got nothing but a slap for my trouble. Had to have her.” He rubbed his cheek as if remembering that first meeting.

Deciding now was a good time to change the subject, John asked, “Where are you and Mary off to? Going to your usual place?” He was glad Ben had arrived, and the help was a boon. But he wouldn’t presume to ask him to stay any longer than Ben wanted; the man had his own living to see to. He needn’t have worried.

The trapper snorted. “You’d like to get rid of me, now, wouldn’t you, John? Well, think again, pal. Somehow I think we’re gonna be staying right here for a while. Don’t think I could drag Mary away. Besides, someone’s got to hunt for you. You’re not gonna be up and around anytime soon.”

Relief washed through John. “Might be nice to have you around for a few days,” he admitted. “Do some hunting and such. Then I’ll be fine.” He winced at Ben’s booming bark of laughter.

“Haven’t looked at yourself lately, have you? You look like hell, buddy. Mary and I are staying until your grandfather and cousin return. Don’t think they’re too far behind us.”

John nodded. “They’ll be home soon, then? I was starting to get worried. They’ve been gone much longer than usual.”

“Well, your grandpa isn’t lookin’ so good, John. Got sick and was laid up in St. Louis, though he was doing better when we left. Between you an’ me, John—the doc said he’d make it back but doesn’t give him much more time. Mebbe another winter.”

Sadness settled in John’s heart. He loved the gruff old man. Months after his parents had died, his grandfather had arrived to take both him and Willy back to the wilderness. Gascon Cartier had sworn that the harsh life would make men of them both. There was little argument that it had not. The memory made John smile. His grandfather had no use for soft, pampered cityfolk.

Ben’s next words brought him back from his thoughts. “Stubborn old fart.” A tinge of sadness edged the trapper’s laughter. “Tried to talk him into staying behind for the winter. Said I’d let you know what happened. Hell, even your cousin tried to get him to stay in St. Louis. Still, you know the old man. Says he don’t want to die in some fancy boardinghouse. Wants to go out here, to be buried beneath the land he walked.”

Silence fell for a few moments as they both thought of the formidable man whom no one dared defy. Gascon Cartier, born into a wealthy family, had left that rich life behind for the adventure of living in the wilderness. A man more fitted to this wild land didn’t exist.

Thinking of the savage beauty of the land around the cabin, John understood. He, too, loved it out here. And yet… “We’ll be leaving next year. I—”

Ben nodded. “It’s a lonely life.”

He’d hit the nail on the head. Staring over Ben’s shoulder out the window at the trees beyond the cabin, John felt torn. Unbidden came the thought that with Emily at his side, he wouldn’t be lonely. What would it be like to share all this with her?

“The old man is proud of you. Spoke a lot about you when I saw him.”

“Bet Willy loved that.”

Ben shrugged, a look of distaste coming over the man’s features that said he didn’t much care what Willy did or did not love. “Don’t much care for your cousin. Shifty. Self-centered. Out drinking and carousing every night, leaving your grandpa alone—and Gascon being sick and all! That boy hasn’t earned his grandpa’s respect, nor mine. Why should he get it?”

“He’s stuck it out here, same as me.”

Ben rolled his eyes. His fingers plucked at his beard. “Only ’cause if he left, he’d have to make his own way. Boy’s too lazy to get honest work elsewhere and knows Gascon won’t just pay his way.”

John sighed. “I know.” It was the truth, but he still felt guilty for having all his grandpa’s respect—and for the fact that Gascon had left everything to him. Yet he knew whatever was given to Willy would quickly be gone in a binge of gambling, drink and women. Then his cousin would come around looking for more. It seemed a horrible conundrum.

It was time for him to stop feeling sorry for his cousin; life dealt a lot of men a raw deal. That didn’t stop them from going out and supporting themselves. The inheritance was settled. John just wished there weren’t such bad feelings between his cousin and his grandfather. Much of it came from his grandfather. Gascon Cartier had never forgiven Willy’s father for running off with his daughter, then failing to provide for her. She’d died as a result. Yet as tragic and sad as that was, it hadn’t been Willy’s fault. Yes, John’s grandfather was in part to blame for Willy’s bitterness. John wished Gascon, before he died, could find it in his heart to accept his other grandson—but that wasn’t any more likely to happen than the Big Muddy suddenly flowing backward.

Ben cleared his throat. “What do you think Willy’s gonna do when he sees Emily?”

John frowned. He’d deliberately refused to think of his cousin and Emily. Or at least he’d tried hard not to. But he knew Willy well enough to know his cousin would consider her fair game. Hell, just knowing that John had seen her first, had spent time alone with her, had fallen in love with her, would make his cousin want to take her from him. “I’ll deal with that when the time comes.” His voice hardened. No way would he allow Willy to use Emily as a pawn in his bitter need to prove himself.

Swiping a hand over his bearded jaw, Ben looked thoughtful. “He’s gonna make a play for her. Unless you stake your claim on her.”

John cocked a brow at that. “
Even if I
stake my claim on her. But the truth is, I don’t have any claim to her. She’s free to choose any man she wants.” The thought made him feel ill. In his heart and mind, she belonged to him. But he couldn’t push her. Wouldn’t push her. She’d gone through too much. He needed her to choose him. To love him as much as he loved her. And for that, he needed her to trust him. To believe in him.

“Reckon you’re right. And bettin’ man that I am, I reckon she’s smart enough to see through that cousin of yours. You’re by far the better man.”

John laughed without humor as he recalled what she’d gone through with her father, the priest and the Indian warrior who’d saved her life. “That, my friend, is my biggest problem. I’m a man.” The thought left a dark, depressing cloud over him. Before he could win her, Emily had a lot to overcome.

John felt a wave of exhaustion overtake him. After a few more minutes of talk in which he had to fight to keep from yawning, his friend got up to see about setting up camp, and left John to doze against the cabin’s log wall.

Drifting in and out of sleep and occasionally hearing laughter in the background, John dreamed of Emily—with him, the two of them together, hand in hand, running through the meadow. Her blue eyes were filled with love, and her hair streamed out behind them. The scene slowed as they fell down onto the soft cushion of grass, his body beneath hers as he wrapped her in his arms. Her laughter floated on the breeze and her fingers tangled in his hair as her body arched and begged for his.

“Sunshine,” he whispered in his sleep.

He woke feeling refreshed. The sun had passed overhead, and, judging from its position, he knew it was late afternoon. The air blowing through the shack teased him with the aroma of cooking meat, confirming that Ben had gone hunting.

With his belly rumbling, John struggled to sit up straight. Outside, he heard three voices: Ben’s deep, booming bass, and the soft chatter of the two women. Wanting to join them, he glared at his thigh and his blanket-covered lower body. He needed proper clothing first.

As if she knew he’d woken, Emily stepped inside. John stopped his struggle to scoot across the dirt floor. The laughter in her eyes warmed him. No, it
thrilled
him to see her look so happy. It was the first time he’d seen her so relaxed. Her eyes sparkled, her face glowed and her mouth curved softly in a smile, making her even more beautiful than before.

“Hand me my breeches,” he asked.

Emily tipped her head to the side. “Why?”

He glared at her. “I’m coming out.” He wasn’t going to stay in here a moment longer—not when they were all outside having fun!

As if she knew she’d lose this battle, Emily went outside and returned with a lopsided pair of breeches. She blushed. “I washed them and mostly sewed them back up. I had to cut them off you.”

John ignored his body’s reaction to the knowledge that she’d seen him naked, that she’d taken care of his needs. That thought still embarrassed him. He frowned at the missing portion of the pant leg.

“I’ll sew that piece back on after you heal and we don’t need to change your bandage so often.” She hesitated, her cheeks rosy with color. “Do you need… I mean, should I send Ben in to help you—”