“Lucas is as cross as a bear with a sore tail,” Buck said, reflecting on what Laura had said. “He had no call to do what he did this morning. He could have simply told the brave he’d take sixteen ponies, and that would have put a stop to any trade talk.”
“I feel guilty being so happy when Tucker is so downhearted,” Laura said wistfully. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if they would marry and live near us in California?”
Buck took his time replying, first bending to kiss her forehead. “Only if they are in love, sweetheart.”
“Do you think Lucas loves her?”
“I thought so,
querida.
But I cannot tell what another man feels. I only know how I feel!”
Laura stopped, lifted her arms, and wound them closely around his neck. He bent to kiss her lips.
“Don’t worry,
mi amor.
What is to be will be. I waited for you, looked for you, yearned for you . . . and you came to me. Perhaps it will be the same with your friend. She will find her love.” Strong, careful fingers moved aside the long golden hair, and his mouth pressed warmly, hungrily to the slenderness of her neck. He cradled her against him, and she clung tightly, her eyes closed. Her heart almost stopped, then raced so wildly she was left breathless. Buck lifted his head at last and gently kissed her closed eyes.
“We must go back now,
mi amor.
But I wish the time would go fast so that we can be together all night, every night.”
* * *
The camp was quiet. Mustang stood holding the coffee pot, gesturing to see if Buck wanted a cup. Lucas sat on a chunk of wood near the dying fire. Buck squatted on his heels, and Mustang filled his cup.
“You taking third watch?” Buck asked, keeping his eyes away from the light of the fire.
“Yup. I figure if we’re to get visitors, it’ll be then,” Lucas said, knowing full well it was unnecessary conversation.
“Why do you figure Parcher is behaving himself?”
“I’ve been wondering about that. I can’t find a thing to fault him for. He seems to keep Collins pretty well in line, too. Stands his watch and rides tail. Still don’t trust him.”
“He’s got a mean streak a mile wide,” Mustang said. “I ain’t got no use for him atall.”
“He’s mean, but small-caliber mean. When he makes his move, he’ll act alone. I don’t see any connection between him and what’s following.” Buck threw the rest of his coffee into the fire and stood up. “I’ll hit the bedroll. I plan to ride out a couple hours before daylight.”
“Surprised, you’d leave that little gal long ’nuff to ketch a wink,” Mustang said with a sly glance at Lucas.
“What do you know, old man?” Buck grinned.
“It’s been many a year since a pretty girl looked at your ugly face.”
He walked away and it suddenly occurred to him what he had said.
Looked at your face.
Laura, his love, had never looked at his face. Would she have fallen in love with him if she could have seen him? Or would she have shied away and never given herself a chance to know him? Even as he asked himself the question, his mind was rejecting the idea. It was a possibility he could not bear to think about.
Lucas shook the last of the coffee dregs from his tin cup and set it on the chuck-box shelf at the end of the grub wagon. Mustang had gone off on some errand, so he was alone with the glowing embers. He looked up at the stars. They were brighter than usual, and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. Even the silver moon wouldn’t be up for another hour or so. There was only the unbroken darkness and the loneliness.
He leaned on the wagon and let his gaze wander over the camp. It touched every wagon, still and silent. In each one of them there was someone who could turn to someone and share what they had seen or done during the day: how the country looked, how tired they were, how scared they’d been when the Indians had arrived. But there was no one for Lucas Steele, wagon master, to turn to. Last night and all day today loneliness had crept into his bones like an ache. Tucker Houston’s words had pierced him like fangs, and they’d left their venom to work into the wound. Why couldn’t he quit thinking about the
damn woman? In anguish Lucas whirled away and walked outside the circle of wagons.
At first he didn’t know where he was going. Then, off on a ridge, he could see the silhouette of the man on watch. A hundred yards away he called a soft “haaloo” and received an answer. He approached and saw Chata waiting, his bedroll on the ground. He’d been half sitting, half reclining, his rifle beside him.
“Something wrong,
señor
?”
“Nothing wrong. I’ll take this watch. You go back and get some rest.”
“
Sí, señor.
You would use my rifle, no?”
“Your rifle? Oh, yes, thank you, I will,” he muttered distractedly.
“My horse is staked right there,” Chata pointed. “I leave him.”
“All right.”
The young Mexican walked toward the camp. Lucas stood still, wondering how in the world he had come to do such a stupid thing as to walk out of camp without his rifle. He silently cursed himself, then began to walk back and forth. What was he going to do? How was he going to get that redheaded witch out of his mind? From the moment he’d set eyes on her in Fort Worth, she had crept into his bloodstream like a poison. She had driven him to torment her today! Even a savage Indian had seen her beauty and been fascinated by it. Hair like fire! Fires of hell are more like it, he thought angrily. His leg still ached where she had kicked him. He’d wanted to slap her at the time, lash back at her somehow, but he knew he’d
already made a big enough fool out of himself. He also knew that Buck disapproved of what he’d done. Hell, he knew himself when he was doing it that it was wrong! He stared with tormented eyes toward the darkened wagon train and suddenly saw the shape of a woman coming toward him.
Damn! He said nothing as she approached him in the darkness, and he made no move toward her. She came to within ten feet of him before she spoke.
“Lucas?”
“Cora Lee. What the hell are you doing out here? I could have shot you.”
“But you didn’t.” She laughed softly, remembering these words from another night, another place.
“No, I didn’t. But another man might have.”
“I knew it was you. I watched you leave camp and saw you come here.”
“You followed me? Why?”
“I wanted to be with you.” She came close to him and placed her hand on his arm. “Talk to me for a little while, Lucas. I get so lonely.”
“There’re plenty of people back there for you to talk to,” he said sharply.
Cora Lee twisted around and sank down onto the bedroll. Lucas looked down at her and reached to take her arm and pull her to her feet.
“Please sit and talk to me?” Her voice had a husky catch in it.
He ran his hand over his face. He didn’t want the girl here, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Yet she was interrupting his thoughts. This was a night he
needed to spend by himself; he didn’t want to waste it with her.
“I checked the axletrees on your wagon this morning, Cora Lee. There’s no reason to think they’re going to break, not on this flat prairie anyway.”
“I know that. It was just an excuse to come talk to you.” She pulled on his hand. “Sit down for a minute.”
Lucas looked down at her. She was a pretty woman. Pretty to look at, but that was all. She didn’t have any more brains than a flea. God help the farmer in California who gets her for a wife, he thought as he sank down on his haunches to tell her, quietly and firmly, to leave.
Cora Lee took the move as a sign of acceptance and reached out to stroke his hair. Lucas jerked his head away, but before he could get to his feet her arms were around his neck and she was pressing herself against him.
“Stay and love me, Lucas.” She pulled open her unbuttoned bodice and large ripe breasts, gleaming white in the darkness, pressed against his face when she rose up onto her knees. “I can make you feel things you’ve never thought of feeling, Lucas. Stay, darling! Stay and let me do all the things I’ve been wanting to do to you.”
Dumbfounded by her attack, his mind went blank. The force of her weight against him almost toppled them both over onto the bedroll. In spite of himself he felt a sexual excitement. He’d never been accosted by a woman before. Cora Lee moved and her mouth,
open and wet, came down onto his own, and her hand, gentle at first, then with persistent, skilled fingers, worked its way to his belt buckle.
Lucas had the feeling he was being devoured, raped.
“My God!” He pushed her away and got to his feet. “My God!” he said again.
Cora Lee lay back on the bedroll, her breasts fully exposed. With deliberation she began pulling her skirt up inch by inch from her ankles. “Come on, darling,” she crooned softly. “Come to me. Don’t you want me?”
Lucas stared at her: her white face, her white breasts, her disheveled dress. Tucker’s earlier accusations leapt unbidden into his mind. His thoughts began to gather into some semblance of order. Cora Lee had been pestering him about one thing or another ever since she’d joined the train. She’d been at him about the wagon, or the mules, or some other piddling worry that he’d put down to woman’s ways. Now this! Why, she was nothing but a whore!
“I sure as hell
don’t
want you! Get on your feet!” He spat the words angrily. She lay looking at him, saying nothing. “Get up!” He was about to jerk her to her feet, when he heard the soft signal come from behind him.
“Haa-loo.” It was Buck’s call. They had used it for too many years for him to be mistaken about it now.
Lucas reached down and jerked Cora Lee off the bedroll and onto her feet. “Fix yourself,” he hissed.
He turned his back to her and raised his hands to his mouth to give an answering call.
Seconds later Buck, running noiselessly in his knee-high moccasins, was beside him. Eyes that could see in the dark had told him from fifty yards away that there was a woman with Lucas. She stood beside him, her breasts barely covered. Lucas turned on her viciously.
“Get the hell out of here, Cora Lee, and tomorrow get your things together. I’m leaving you at Fort Davis. I’ll pay your way back on the stage or you can stay there. They’ve got need of a whore,” he said harshly, his stupefaction and self-recriminations overpowering him.
“I love you, Lucas,” she said with tears in her voice. “I’ve never said that to another living soul, but I’ll say it to you. I love you.” She walked away with none of the proud arrogance she usually displayed.
Lucas waited until she was well away from them before he turned to Buck. “Well?” he demanded through gritted teeth, as if daring Buck to mention what he’d just seen and heard.
“That outfit that was comin’ down the trail behind us went sneakin’ by. They’re ahead of us now.”
“All eight of them?”
“Yup. The drover you got from Fort Stockton—Valdez—he heard ’em and woke me. We watched ’em. They made a deep circle when they passed and went a half mile before they put spurs to the horses. Got good horses.”
“You think they’ll wait ahead?”
“Not likely. They’re wantin’ to beat us to Fort Davis.”
“If we get an early start tomorrow, we’ll make the fort by sundown.”
“I’m going to trail that bunch and make sure they don’t double back,” Buck said.
“About that woman, Buck, I . . .” His voice trailed off.
“None of my business what you do, Lucas,” he said abruptly. “I got to get goin’ if I’m goin’ to do any stalkin’.” He loped back toward the camp leaving Lucas feeling frustrated and angry.
The day began like any other day, with everyone hopeful that the train would get the early start Lucas had counted on. Mustang banged on the iron pot, the signal that breakfast was ready. The smell of bacon and woodsmoke and boiled coffee hung in the air. The women straggled out of the wagons, their shirts tucked into the makeshift britches and their hair screwed up in tight knots atop their heads. The men had already eaten and were bringing up the mules.
“Now git to gittin’,” Mustang urged. “Quit a flappin’ yore jaws so we can git a movin’. We’ll be in Fort Davis afore nightfall where thar’s trees ’n shade ’n cool creek water.”
Laura and Tucker took their bacon, corn bread, and coffee back to the wagon. Since the mules were already hitched, the two gulped their coffee hurriedly, expecting the call to move out to come at any moment. But nothing moved, and the mules began to get restless. Annoyed at the delay, Tucker was thinking a few uncomplimentary things about the wagon master when he came riding by.
“Have you seen Cora Lee this morning?” His lively mount danced and pawed the ground.
Tucker tossed her head. Her loose hair billowed wildly, and her tormented eyes ignited. “Have you lost her?” she asked in a voice dripping with bitter sarcasm.
Lucas pulled up on the reins cruelly, and his horse stood still. He glared at Tucker. “I don’t need any of your waspy remarks. Have you seen her or not?”