The Beholding, page 12
Soon the first rays of dawn filtered through the canvas. Mental and physical exhaustion jumbled her words into nonsyllables as her lashes blinked once, twice, then finally closed. Reluctantly, Tess gave way to the oblivion of sleep, hoping, praying the battle had not been lost.
Chapter Eleven
With a night’s rest under his belt, Jim Daggert decided to surprise Contessa by making breakfast. Although dawn was more than an hour gone, no one stirred in the Conestoga. He detested the thought of her sleeping under the same tarpaulin with the bounty hunter but found pleasure in the fact that Luke Reeves was too injured to pursue any amorous notions. Blue Hawk might have bungled the original plans, but at least he had proven helpful in another way.
Crawling from beneath the wagon, Jim stood and stretched the soreness from his limbs. A quick scan of the countryside assured him that nothing would hinder a leisurely breakfast, so he headed for the back of the wagon to get the skillet and coffee tin. He stuck his head inside the tarpaulin and the shocking sight that greeted him felt like a blow from a castiron fist.
A slim strip of sheet draped the bounty hunter to keep him from being stark naked. Not a stitch of clothing covered him from hip to head and thighs to toes. Only the bandage on his right thigh offered a barrier to the leg that rode the curve of Tess’s breasts. With her arm flung just above his knees, one long slim leg completed the sleep-hold her body lavished upon the injured man.
Damn her! Why did she have to be such a helpful Hannah? The bastard might die if that thigh rotted. From the looks of the soiled bandages piled near the wash bucket, she had done her best to see that didn’t happen. Contessa’s hair fell in curls below her shoulders, and Jim wished he was the one she had bathed and coddled through the night. Having her lush body flung over his in such wanton repose would almost make it worth shooting himself to get her attention.
Luke moved restlessly and mumbled something incoherent. Tess’s lashes opened, and Jim couldn’t tell if she was fully awake as she groped for the bandage.
“Be still, Luke,” she demanded. Her fingers gently touched, then fell limply away as she snuggled closer against his bare leg. One of the bounty hunter’s hands delved into her hair. In seconds, his rhythmic breathing blended with Tess’s.
Jim turned soundlessly away and grumbled, “To hell with breakfast.”
Hours later, Luke awoke, weak but hungry and amazed to find himself feeling better. He flexed his muscles and found them stiff and sore from the bumpy wagon ride. Though his thigh felt tight and hurt like thunder, it no longer burned. Voices outside the Conestoga informed him that Daggert and Tess were securing the camp. Twilight filtered through the canvas, and he wondered how far they had traveled since his last real moment of consciousness. The gambler must think they were out of immediate danger or he wouldn’t have camped.
The sound of her voice as Tess approached the wagon sent an unexpected anticipation through Luke. He marveled that she had such an effect on him in so short a time. Was this one of the ways she lured her victims at Hot Springs?
She saved your life, Reeves, he reminded himself as he glanced up and saw her standing at the edge of the wagon bed, watching him. Tess looked refreshed in her nankeen skirt and white-lawn blouse. Knotted in a coil at the crown, her hair shone like harvest gold, haloing fresh, peachy skin. Tess smiled and it warmed him to the core.
“You made it,” she said quietly.
He studied her and grinned. “Thanks to you.”
They looked at each other for an indefinable moment. No words were necessary. Each knew what had been offered, what had been exchanged.
“Will you come here?” he asked softly.
She paused uncertainly, then lifted herself into the Conestoga and sank to her knees by his side.
He offered his hand. “I owe you my life, Tessa. I’d like to thank you.”
“Yes, you do.” Amusement softened her reply and she accepted the handshake.
His pulse felt strong now, beating amidst the callus and bone that gripped her palm. Her own pulse seemed to skip a beat, then raced to match the rhythm his had taken.
“How can I repay you?”
He pulled her closer. She found herself drawn to the depth of his eyes. Her lips tingled with the anticipated kiss, but at the last moment before their mouths touched, Luke raised his chin and planted a kiss across her forehead.
“Like this?”
The touch was sweet, endearing, and more devastating than the thrill she’d expected at her lips. Tess’s heart tightened with something stronger than affection, more powerful than the attraction she began to feel toward him. Something life-changing.
“Well… what have we here … obviously a grateful patient?”
It was just her luck that Jim Daggert chose that moment to interrupt. Tess jerked away, uncomfortable beneath the gambler’s intense disapproval.
Luke continued to hold her hand, unwilling to let the moment slip away so easily. “A real shame I was the one who got shot, don’t you think? But for every bullet, there is a justice.”
Storm clouds rumbled over Jim’s face. “Just remember you’re here to take care of the lady, not the opposite.”
Undaunted, Luke grinned at Tess when she attempted to slide her hand away. “Tessa doesn’t seem to mind.”
“Tessa, is it?” Outrage gripped Jim while she managed to struggle out of Luke’s hold. “Since when did it become Tessa? Last night?”
“Both of you, stop it!” Tess whirled on Luke, her anger building. “I’m nobody’s Contessa or Tessa. Just plain Tess. And if the both of you don’t like it, then keep the fact to yourself until we reach Colorado!”
Jim gave them a scathing look. “Then quit curling up beside him with your hands all over him.” His mouth pursed into a straight line.
Tess’s hand shot to her hips. “I don’t think that’s any of your business, Mr. Daggert. And besides, I’ve never—”
“I saw you, Contessa. You were close enough to rub more than noses.”
“Liar!”
“Now, Tess,” Luke interjected, “you’ve got to give the man his due. There was that time last night when—”
Indignation narrowed her eyes. “I’ll thank you to quit grinning, Luke Reeves. You know I did nothing but wash and rebandage your injury. I should have taken soap to your mouth!”
Jim’s expression hardened into disgust. “Once you finished, you should’ve rolled over on your own sleeping mat instead of wrapping yourself around him like a spare blanket.”
Tess remembered all too clearly now. Though she had fallen asleep in exhaustion, the feel of Luke’s hard physique had filtered through her dreams. The press of his flesh against her fingertips had lulled her into a sense of peace. She could imagine the way their sleeping arrangement looked to the gambler.
“I think you better stop now, Jim.” Her voice trembled with fury.
A muscle worked in his jaw as the gambler stared back at her sitting so still and erect beside Luke. “Now, don’t get riled, Contessa. You know why I’m even bringing this to your attention, but perhaps I overstepped our friendship.”
“There isn’t any perhaps to it. You did. So let’s leave it at that.” She tossed Luke his buckskin pants. “If you feel up to dressing yourself, I have things to attend to. Be careful and don’t loosen the bandage.”
Luke reached out to stop her from rising, but she shrank away from his touch. He lowered his hand slowly to his side. “Sure, I can manage.”
The undercurrent of emotions left things unsaid, and he felt an invisible wall form between him and Tess.
In clipped tones, she told the gambler to finish seeing to the stock while she prepared supper. And suddenly in the men’s eyes there was no question as to whose expedition this was.
Tess arrived later carrying a tin. “Are you ready to eat?” Luke motioned her in. “I figured you’d let me starve or make me wait on myself after Daggert’s comments.”
“I should have. You took exceptional delight in making him angry.”
His hand spread across his chest in mock dismay. “Me? I was only speaking the truth. You did touch me all the places he said, and if I remember correctly—”
“If you’re hungry, eat.” She set the tin down beside him with a clatter of utensils.
It didn’t help her to recall those same touches and know that he, indeed, spoke the truth. Tess eyed the pillow boosting his head and thought he’d enjoy his meal better if he propped his back against the trunk. “Can you sit up?”
He obeyed and she grabbed one of the blankets, placing it behind him. ‘’Now that’s better. Do you think you can manage on your own, or do I need to feed you?”
A look of distaste glinted in his eyes and snarled his upper lip. “Stew?”
She grabbed a cloth and draped it over his chest. “It’s good for you.”
“My thigh’s injured, not my stomach.” He grimaced.
“Your body was full of fever and infection. Your stomach may not be as fit as you think. Now lift your spoon and eat, Mr. Reeves.”
Luke scooped, making certain to include a hunk of potato and beef. The broth slid down easily, warming his throat and tasting finer than a side of buffalo steak. “It’s good,” he complimented and took another scoop. “Did you make it?”
A light flush rose to her cheeks. Her previous attempts at cooking on the trail had not been the best. She was accustomed to cooking indoors on a stove, not from fires built over an open flame or fueled by animal thing. “Believe it or not, even I can’t mess up stew.”
He grabbed her wrist. “I didn’t mean to insult you.” Luke’s tone was sincere. “It really is good and I wanted to thank whoever made it. And Tessa…” he spoke her name softly, insisting upon the softer version despite her earlier objection. “I meant what I said. I appreciate you saving my life.”
Tess shrugged. “There wasn’t anybody else to do it.”
“So I gathered. I’m glad you were so eager to help.”
One brow arched and she chided, “I didn’t think you wanted Jim to do the doctoring.”
He chuckled and accidentally dropped some of the broth. “Seems like I owe you a second thanks.”
Wiping the stew from his chin, Tess’s hand halted as his gaze locked with her own. When his tongue licked a corner of his mouth, a lump caught in her throat. “You owe me nothing, Luke,” she whispered. Realizing how husky her voice sounded, she deliberately spoke louder. “Just don’t get hurt again. The next time I might not be here to fix it.”
The next time I get hurt, Luke thought, it will be because some blond miss-fix-it has gone and broken my heart.
Chapter Twelve
“Ready?” impatient to mount his horse after days in the schooner, Luke lifted one finger to his mouth to warn Tommie not to let Tess in on their adventure. She drove the team now while Jim resumed scouting ahead.
“Soon as I get Thammy settled in my pocket” Within seconds Tommie’s fingers gripped the reins Luke had untied from the end of the wagon. Both pairs of hands tugged and pulled the dun closer.
The boy looked up earnestly, his eyes wide with concern as Luke stood precariously at the wagon gate waiting for Talon to half turn. “Can you ride, Mista Yuke?”
“Got to. Can’t stand another minute in this rolling tent.”
“What if you fall?”
“It’ll hurt like a sonofa … like a by-gosh.”
The freckles on Tommie’s nose wrinkled into a grin. A giggle filled his eyes with light and stretched his mouth from ear to ear.
“Sorry about that.”
“Want me to go tell Mommie so she can wash your mouth out with soap?”
About the cursing or mounting Talon? Luke wondered before deciding he didn’t want her to know about either. Tess had made it plain there would be no slip of the tongue around her boy, and Luke admired her for that. But the pain of the past couple of days often caused him to forget, and the oaths had a way of barreling out when he least expected them. She would mutter a few choice words of her own if she knew he intended on riding Talon the remainder of this journey. Though the wound healed nicely, it was still tender. Luke knew he took a chance riding so soon again, but another day in the wagon would drive him insane.
The three-year-old still hadn’t forgiven him completely for the backhand and, on occasion, took a notion to disobey Luke. The boy might choose this time to do the opposite of his instructions, so Luke shrugged off the secrecy. “If you want to tell her, it’s all right with me.”
Tommie looked a bit disappointed, telling Luke that his ploy had worked. The boy had meant to snitch on him for sure. Shaking off Tommie’s orneriness as merely a childish impulse, Luke urged Talon as close to the wagon as possible. “Want to ride?”
“Yeah!” Tommie squealed, then muffled his joy as he glanced at his mother’s back through the front flap to see if she had heard. “Can we put a banket up here so I kin surprise Mommie?”
“Don’t see any harm in surprising her.” Luke strung a blanket across the rope Tess had tied across the wagon, all the while trying to maintain his balance and hold on to the horse’s reins.
“What are you two up to?” Tess called over her shoulder.
Did the woman have an extra pair of eyes? Luke decided that if forts were commandeered by mothers, there would never be an Indian attack. Mothers always seemed to know when anyone within miles was up to no good. “We’re planning a surprise for you, that’s all,” he answered truthfully, suspecting she had probably already guessed.
“Yeah, Mommie. Me and Yuke and Thammy is,” Tommie confirmed.
“Just remember, son. Mama doesn’t like surprises that slither.”
Tommie’s giggle mixed with Luke’s chuckle as she concentrated on the team once again and left them to their antics. Luke held his finger to his lips and whispered low in case Tess still listened. “Let me mount, then I’ll swing around and help you saddle up.”
Having taught Talon to let him mount from the left, Luke worried that the horse would shy when this time he straddled right-legged. “I haven’t lost my mind, just the use of my leg,” he reassured the animal with a swift pat to the neck. Incredible pain coursed from hip to toe as Luke settled deep into the saddle and gritted his teeth. His legs bowed over Talon, and Luke felt like a wishbone being pulled at both ends.
“Now me and Thammy, Mista Yuke!” Tommie stood with his hands outstretched.
The wagon rolled along at a steady clip. The loud swish of wheels cutting through waist-high prairie grass dulled the heavier clop of hoof against earth. Bumping over a clump of loam, the schooner sent Tommie careening to one side.
Luke’s heart seemed to leap into his throat as an image of the boy trampled under Talon’s hooves filled his mind. This was a foolish idea. A dangerous one. “Hold on, Tom.”
With concentrated effort, Tommie stood.
“Thank God. Now back up so you don’t get hurt.”
“No, I wanna ride. You said I could and I want to.”
Luke noted how much misery the wagon had dealt the boy. Perhaps if he taught Tommie to ride and ride well, the three-year-old wouldn’t have to feel every bump and rut in the road. The tot’s limp seemed more prominent the past few days, and he had tossed and turned endlessly in his sleep. The constant jarring couldn’t be any less painful to Tommie’s leg than it was his own injury.
“Grab my arm when I lean into you,” Luke informed him as Talon sidled up to the Conestoga. Tommie took hold and thrust himself into Luke’s arms, as if both to the saddle.
“Be careful, Thammy wanna ride too.” The salamander’s tail curled out of Tommie’s back pocket.
“Tell Thammy to sit still. If he spooks this horse, none of us will hang on.”
Laundry hung across the rope strung from the Conestoga to a cottonwood at the edge of the stream. Tess scrubbed one of the last dirty garments. Now that Luke could ride alongside the wagon, Jim scouted hours to a day ahead. As touchy as the gambler’s temper had been lately, she was glad for his distance. Though Jim never failed to profess his love for her, Tess couldn’t warm to him.
Perhaps he had been around for so long she couldn’t think of him as anything more than a friend. Though he told her he was willing to wait until she changed her mind, the gambler didn’t seem as patient a man as he claimed. Did he see the rising attraction she felt for Luke?
How far off were the bounty hunter and Tommie fishing? As if in answer, her son ran into camp, raising a spattering of dust as he climbed into the Conestoga.
“Watch my laundry!” Tess warned. Seeing his haste, she was filled with curiosity as she boosted him into the wagon bed. “You look like someone with a mission.”
“Mista Yuke need a mirror. We gonna shave.”
“Shave?” Tess laughed. The bounty hunter hadn’t shaved in days and she rather missed the scarred face hidden beneath the mustache and beard. Searching through a trunk, Tess found the dressing mirror and handed it to Tommie. “Take it to Mr. Reeves but don’t run,” she warned. “You might stumble and cut yourself.”
Setting him down on the ground, Tess bent over the washboard and began to scrub again!
Tommie kissed her on the cheek, then shouted over his shoulder, “I be weal careful, Mommie. I be widing.”
Intent on her cleaning, she only half heard his remark and began rubbing two ends of the camisole together to remove a stain. Her hands stopped in mid-scrub. She dropped the soapy garment into the washtub and flung the suds from her hands. He said he would be riding, not he would be right back.
Everything fell into place. The blanket strung across the back of the wagon. The intended surprise. Though she’d suspected the reason for the change in wagon weight, Tess had soon discovered Luke mounting his horse and testing the injury. She had not considered the possibility that he included her son in his daily escape.
