Undeniable - Book One: The Oregon Trail Series

  Chapter 11

  “Do you want me to have a word with him?” Nick asked Amelia Chatillon. They walked a deer trail that hugged the creek’s bank.

  “No, my goodness, Daddy can take care of him. He enjoys Mr. Bartlett’s company,” she replied.

  “Mr. Chatillon is in the minority.” He held up a tree’s branch for her to walk under. “I dislike the man more each time we meet.”

  Amelia playfully slapped his arm. “Oh, phooey! That’s only because you have designs on his wife.”

  Feeling as if his thoughts had been written on his forehead, Nick choked out an, “Excuse me? I have no designs on any woman in our group, married or not.”

  She waved away his protests. “Don’t be coy. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. Considering how little time Mr. Bartlett spends with his wife, it’s no wonder she seeks, how shall I put it? Comfort, somewhere else.”

  Anger filled him. Beth never initiated their kisses and he considered her a lady, not a courtesan. “Comfort? I don’t appreciate what you’re insinuating. Mrs. Bartlett doesn’t seek anything from anyone here, not like that.”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “My, you do have a bad case of it, don’t you?”

  Nick put his hands in his pockets, still a little angry and a lot more shamed. “It doesn’t matter what I think or feel. She’s a nice woman with a good-for-nothing of a husband. I do nothing more for her than for any other lady in the group.” He stared ahead, uncomfortable with the lie. Nick hadn’t let anyone, not even Sam, know the extent of his feelings for Beth, never mind the kisses.

  The girl stepped over a fallen log after him, holding Nick’s hand. “If you say so…”

  He’d heard the skepticism in her tone and had to correct her. “Yes, I do say so, since I’ve been teaching you French, helping Mrs. Watts with hitching their animals, and have carried a lot of water for the ladies.”

  At a wider part of the path, Amelia took his arm. “Especially the single ones, it seems.”

  Nick frowned, now aware of the married women not needing as much help. “I’ve not noticed until just now.”

  She laughed, “Don’t you find it odd how one minute they’re capable, but the next minute when you’re nearby, they’re helpless?”

  He cut his gaze to her. “Those girls are flirting with me, aren’t they?”

  Laughing at him, she turned Nick to face her. “Yes, they are. Now I know to not bother Mr. Claude with fetching things for me, since he won’t have a clue I’m flirting with him.”

  Holding back willow branches so she could pass, Nick retorted, “He’s a romantic Frenchman. He’ll know.”

  They paused once clear of the woods. Amelia turned to him, “Speaking of the French, thank you.” She kissed one of his cheeks and then the other. “And this is for teaching me how to flirt with Monsieur Claude in his native tongue. I hope he appreciates my effort.”

  Nick returned her kisses in the same way, replying, “You’re welcome, and I don’t see how he couldn’t like a young woman who’s gone to such effort for him.”

  “You are too kind.” She smiled at him. “Remember to send Monsieur Claude in my direction a few times, if you please?”

  Nick shook his head, resigned to a reluctant role of matchmaker. “I’ll send him but the rest is up to you.”

  “Not to worry. He won’t be able to resist.” She nodded to her left. “Speaking of irresistible, there’s Mrs. Bartlett.”

  He glanced over and saw Beth leading Erleen around for greener grass. She wasn’t facing them. Had she seen Amelia kiss him? The thought of Beth thinking him taken by the younger girl bothered Nick and he didn’t know why. Although wanting to think about the odd emotion, he first needed to reassure Beth of his… Nick stopped. Affections? He shook his head, unwilling to admit so much for her. Feeling his companion’s stare, Nick said, “I need to visit with her for a moment. Will you excuse me?”

  “Certainly!” Amelia put on her sunbonnet and winked at him, “Have fun, but not too much lest her husband catches you.”

  Nick mock glared at her teasing and then crossed the field to Beth. She’d made the perfect dress for her figure. The color, cut, everything enhanced her slender curves. He smiled, knowing she wore his clunky boots under such a womanly skirt. Nick supposed he should ask for them back but liked the idea of her wearing them.

  What would he say past the first hello? He stopped in his tracks, knowing he had no real reason to speak to her. Anything the Bartletts needed to know could be told to Bartlett himself. Nick veered away from her, toward his own camp. He stopped by the Watts’s, then the Chatillons’. Seeing Bartlett seated between Amelia and her father angered Nick. The man had a wife already, one kept shackled to him by an inane reason. Yet, he sat here, sparking another girl before releasing Beth. Instead of dragging Bartlett away by the scruff of his neck, Nick smiled at the trio. He tipped his hat and went to check on everyone else in the group.

  He found time to talk with the hands as they settled in for the evening. Spirits were high, knowing they’d be carousing at Laramie this time tomorrow. He passed on singing with them. Instead, he yearned to go to Beth, to talk and pass the time with her. His scouting the trail kept him from seeing her with any sort of regularity. Had she missed him as much as he had missed her? Nick hated the constant craving he felt, always wanting what he couldn’t have. To hell with this, he thought. He had every right to check on one of the party’s status and wellbeing. Nick went around the wagon circle first, making himself be patient in seeing her. Once done, he eased his way over to where Beth camped.

  He saw her sitting by the fire, concentrating on what he assumed to be Sam’s sock. The warm light flickered across her heart shaped face, lending an extra glow to her skin. While she looked down, her long eyelashes seemed to rest against her cheeks. Nick leaned against the wagon, enjoying this chance to stare as much as he wanted. She smiled, lost in thought, and he smiled with her.

  Nick noticed she’d lost a little weight since making her new dress. The waist didn’t fit as snug, nor did the neckline. He caressed the dipping neckline with his gaze, lingering over the shadow of her cleavage. He’d been wise to avoid her, the memory of how Beth’s lips and neck tasted still strong in his mind. Shifting his position a little, he looked away from her. He didn’t want to grow any more interested in Beth physically at the moment. If he let his imagination have free reign, he’d not be able to walk back to his camp.

  Instead, Nick imagined Bartlett’s reaction to him visiting with his wife. The man might be sniffing at Miss Chatillon’s skirts, but could still be a dog in the manger over his own woman. The reaction of such a mutt kept Nick’s desires in check.

  Before common sense stopped him, Nick strode over to her. “Mrs. Bartlett?”

  She glanced up while getting to her feet. “Yes, Mr. Granville?”

  He smiled, ignoring how much a kiss from her could help, instead saying, “I’m here to see what you might need. I’m sure you’re aware Fort Laramie is our next stop and a chance to restock on supplies. They’ll be at mountain prices, always a premium, but worth the cost to some.”

  “My husband might, but I’d prefer not to go tomorrow.” She tucked the wool into her cloth bag.

  Nick shook his head. Didn’t all women want to catch up on the latest news? He’d bet she needed supplies. “Is your husband getting fresh stores for you two?”

  Beth stood to face him. Focused on the fire and not him, she replied in a small voice, “I hope so.”

  Nick stared at her close up, entirely forgetting his purpose for speaking to her. Beth’s eyes were a little red, and she sniffed. She’d been crying. He took a couple of steps forward, ready to beat the innards out of whoever caused her tears. “How are you today, really?”

  “Fine, thank you for asking, and you?” She looked everywhere but at him.

  “I’m fine too. Although, I am tired of hearing my hands brag about how warm their feet are. Also, Sam’s been sulking because he??
?s the only one left out, so if you could somehow hurry on his socks, we’d all be grateful.”

  Beth gave a choked laugh and sniffed again. “I’ll step up the pace, then.”

  “Thank you.” Waving in the slight breeze, tendrils of hair framed her face. Nick wanted to let one of the curls wrap around his finger as he kissed her. She must have taken advantage of the Platte being up. Beth smelled a little of flowers, leading him to believe she washed clothes with the rest of the women.

  She put away her cloth sack, getting the pail. “Mr. Granville? I do have a request of you. Would you mind walking with me for water? I don’t mean to be a ‘fraidy cat, but rumors of the Sioux are more alarming when it’s dusk.”

  He grinned, pleased she’d asked something of him at last. Nick knew and dismissed the rumors, knowing they had nothing to fear. Still, he jumped at the chance to be alone with her in the dark and with a real reason to do so. “I’m here to help.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate your coming along with me. I’ll get the pail.” She went to the wagon, discovering she already had the bucket in hand. A blush colored her cheeks. “Oh! Yes, let’s go, then.”

  Nick suppressed a smile at her distraction. He wanted to believe he affected Beth as much as she did him. They walked beyond the firelight’s reach, the gold replaced by a full moon’s silver. When Beth stumbled on a shadowed tuft of grass, he grabbed her hand to steady her. Her skin felt soft and sweet against his, despite her slight calluses. He couldn’t let her go and searched her face, hoping she mirrored his desire. “Why don’t I hold your hand, just in case?”

  “That might be a good idea. I wouldn’t want to fall and ruin my bucket.” She intertwined her fingers with his.

  “Is that what you ladies are calling it, now?” He leaned back, looking at her bottom.

  Laughing, she reproached, “For shame! You know what I mean.”

  Nick was pleased with himself for brightening her mood. He walked with her, enjoying her touch. Once at the bank of the North Platte, he said, “If you do choose to visit the fort tomorrow, let me or Sam know. There’s a ferry taking people across.” He liked the idea of escorting her, telling her the history and about the ghost haunting the place. Maybe Beth’d cling to him, partly in fright, partly because she adored him. He took her pail, though reluctant to let go of her hand. “Let me get this for you.”

  “You don’t have to.” She smiled at him, shaking her head. “I’m not quite as afraid of water as I used to be.”

  He fought the urge to cup her face in his hands. “I’m glad you aren’t, but let me help. It’s my good deed for the day.” Nick bent, careful to get the upmost layer of water. Runoff from the mountains churned the river, turning it muddier the closer to the bottom.

  With a full bucket, he straightened, saying “You might enjoy visiting the fort. If you’re interested, I’m here tomorrow to help in case the crossing is rough.”

  She bit her lip, glancing west as if seeing the fort on the horizon. “I might like going after all. Is it very crowded?”

  Nick grinned at her nervousness, remembering when he first saw her at St. Joseph. He’d recognized a kindred spirit in her face when within a bustling town. “The place has a lot of various types of people, all either going one way or another. A good number are soldiers.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she appeared to study the distant bluffs. “With that many men in one place, there is probably a saloon or two.”

  Every town he knew had a watering hole of some sort for men. “Yes, a couple, maybe more by now.”

  She crossed her arms as if a surly child. “My bet is there are many taverns of one sort or another. I’d prefer we not go anywhere near the place.”

  Nick understood her irritation, remembering how Bartlett had started the trip drunk. “Are you afraid your husband will spend too much time in the saloon?”

  Giving him a smirk, she replied, “Of course I am. How silly you are to ask. What wife wants her husband to come home drunk and penniless?”

  Her bruises seemed a lot more distant in the past than two months and Nick regretted mentioning her husband’s abuse. He wanted to reassure her that not all men were as violent towards women, saying “I’d never put Sally in such a position and can’t imagine a woman who would want that from her man.”

  She shook her head. “You can’t imagine any because there are none.” Beth paused and looked around them, then took a step towards him to softly say, “I have to admit, Daggart’s not himself when he drinks. He’s bearable until then.”

  With her close, the smell of soap and flowers hit him full force. She stood so near to him, Nick felt her warmth. His throat suddenly dry, he swallowed. “Most men aren’t themselves when drunk,” he managed to croak. If Beth could see his eyes in the dark, he knew she’d notice his desire. He wanted to kiss her lips with such a passion that she’d beg him to make love to her.

  “When he’s drunk, he’s horrible.” She glanced up at him, into his eyes, and weakly smiled. “But, that’s not something needing a discussion.”

  His free hand clenched into a fist. He barely tolerated her acting in this farce of a marriage. If Bartlett was still beating Beth, Nick would kill him. “I’ve seen what he does to you. It’s not my place to interfere, but I will if he’s continuing to hurt you.”

  She turned away from him. “You needn’t be concerned. He’s not so much hurting me as something else.”

  “As what else?” He took her arm, pulling her gently toward him. “I want to know.”

  “I couldn’t tell you. It’s too humiliating.” She pressed her lips together.

  He set down the water and cupped her chin in his hand. “I can imagine a lot of bad things a man could do to a woman, sweetheart. Sam and I take protecting the people in our train seriously, and you’re included. If he’s causing a problem, I need to know.”

  Beth was quiet for a moment then admitted, “Daggart will be drunk and forget I’m not Lizzy, entirely, and doesn’t listen when I say no.” She bit her lip then continued, “You and Mr. Granville have seen what happens, once. I dread such a thing occurring again.”

  Nick released her arm and stepped back. He loathed thinking of her under Bartlett. Running a hand through his hair in irritated frustration, he didn’t want to acknowledge Beth’s continued role as the man’s wife. And yet, how could he fault the man in taking what Nick also desired? “I see. And it’s not my place to interfere no matter how much I’d like to do so.” As long as Beth approved the sham, she accepted the cost, and disgusted Nick with her compliance. “It is a part of what you agreed to, I assume.”

  “I know. This is so awful.” She put the back of her hand up to her mouth. “I’ve tried to be accepting, but I hate him, hate leaving home, and hate everything about this place.” Beth’s eyes watered and in between sobs, she said, “I try to be a good wife, I do, but I despise the love part of marriage. He’s always drunk, always forces me, and I always hate him afterward.”

  Her tears rolling down her cheeks broke his heart. He pulled Beth into his arms, holding her close, trying to be gentle. “Come on, sweetheart, please don’t cry.” Nick kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry I’ve asked. Of course it’s not something a lady talks about with anyone. I was wrong to even broach the subject.”

  “No, you asked what was wrong and deserved an answer.” Beth clung to Nick, saying, “I spoke far out of turn, but appreciate you letting me do so.”

  Her body fit so well against him he couldn’t breathe. Feeling her and smelling her scent increased his tender feelings and his lust. His body responding too much, Nick eased his hips away from hers. The woman had just told him how she felt about intimacy. He didn’t want Beth thinking of him the same as she did her husband. His heart pounded so hard Nick wondered if she heard. He pushed his focus back on to her distress and off his own. “Does Bartlett always force you when he’s drunk?” Nick asked.

  “Not always.” She sniffed, snuggling a little against him. “He acted
odd after Fort Kearny.”

  Holding her in the moonlight, Nick’s every nerve ending hummed with hunger. His lips against her hair, he ignored his body’s need and asked, “Odd? Can you give an example?”

  She pulled from his embrace. “Yes, this time, he didn’t want, um, the intimacy when drunk. Daggart was more upset over Lizzy’s death and about how much Amelia looks like her.” Beth wiped her eyes with a sleeve.

  Nick cooled with her absence from his arms. “That would explain why he’s always at their camp instead of his own.”

  “It does,” she agreed. “Lizzy was always so beautiful, everyone loved her. A lot of the women in our church in Kansas City disliked how their husbands looked at Lizzy.”

  He laughed, “I’ll bet. Miss Chatillon’s a lovely girl.”

  “The men were always polite and always ready to help her into a wagon as the men do now for Miss Amelia.” Her voice sounded sharper than usual. “They seem to prefer her over any other woman.”

  “They do?” He wanted to smile but instead kept his countenance somber. If he didn’t know better, Nick could swear Beth was jealous. He wanted to test his theory with a few remarks. He liked the idea of her being possessive toward him and his time. “Miss Amelia is a charming woman, I’ll agree. She and I have walked together a lot more in the past month or so.”

  She started toward the wagon circle. “Well, that’s to be expected. She’s a very pretty girl.”

  Her frosty tone amused him as her latter comment surprised him. “You noticed that, huh?”

  “Of course I have. Who hasn’t?” Beth shrugged with something looking like forced casualness to Nick. “Daggart is foolish to follow her skirts when you’re our group captain. She’s beautiful and you’re handsome. You’re both single and healthy, perfect together. Anyone can see that.”

  Nick felt sure her voice cracked on the word “perfect.” When seeing her chin tremble, he stopped wanting to tease Beth. He hadn’t counted on her caring if Daggart found Miss Chatillon charming. Maybe her husband chasing the woman upset Beth more than Nick chasing her. “The girl is pretty, Mrs. Bartlett. She’s a kind person too.”

  She snorted, “Of course. Amelia looks like a china doll. She’s beyond beautiful. Plus, she has a good heart. It’s easy to see why every man who meets her has met his match.”

  He lifted her downturned chin and stared deep into her eyes, hoping to drive home his meaning. “She’s not my match.” He leaned nearer Beth as if to kiss her. Nick wanted her to stop pretending a marriage with Bartlett and whispered against her mouth, “I’d met my own, once, lost her, and never thought to find another. I might have met her, though. And if the lady I want most in the world chose me, I’d claim her as my own in a second.”

  “Oh my,” she replied, her lips parted. “I so wish I had the choice to make.” She shook her head, saying, “But then, I’m assuming you mean me.” Beth’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “How silly I am, you’re probably thinking of someone else entirely.”

  He kissed her with just a brush of his lips, withdrawing just long enough to say, “I do mean you and it’s your choice to continue or not,” before leaning in to kiss her again.

  “It’s not,” she whispered against his mouth. “I promised my father.”

  “You made a bad promise, surely meant to be broken. You’re not Bartlett’s wife and he’s forcing you.” Nick slid his hand down her spine to the small of her back and lower. He wanted her to admit her preference for him. Goading her into a confession, he squeezed her buttock. “Is it force, though? Or do you secretly enjoy his attentions?”

  She gasped from his intimate touch. “Never!” She put her hands on his chest to push him away. “He’ll always be my brother-in-law, never my— my goodness, you’re warm.” Her hands slid up his suspenders and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re not feverish, but still very warm.”

  “He’ll never be your what?” He held her closer against him.

  “Heavens! I’ve lost my thoughts.” Beth buried her fingers in the hair at his nape and fiercely kissed him. She stopped only to moan, “I enjoy this, you. I want you.”

  He bent his knees, easing them both to the ground and pulled Beth on top of him so she straddled his hips. Nick deepened his kiss, tracing her teeth with his tongue. When she gasped, he said, “I’m yours only if you’re not his.”

  “I’m not. Never his.” She shuddered.

  Nibbling his way down to the hollow of her throat, Nick chuckled. “I don’t know about that. I hear him call you Lizzy more than I like. If you truly aren’t his, you’ll have to convince me you’re not.” Kissing down her neck, he paused at her cleavage. Nick breathed in deep her fragrance, needing to pleasure her into a confession and not give in to his demanding body. He slid a hand down her spine to the small of her back and lifted his hips to meet hers.

  Beth’s body tensed and she gasped, “No! We can’t do this.”

  “Yes we can,” he said against her skin. Her thighs still straddled his, but above enough to not touch him. He didn’t move, instead demanding of her, “I’m yours and you’re mine, Beth. Tell me I’m right.”

  “You’re right.” She pressed her hips to his. She eased down, kissing his forehead, his mouth, and finally the hollow in his throat as he had hers. She continued on lower, and as her lips touched his chest, Beth said, “We belong together, more together than this, even.”

  He didn’t want to move a muscle and risk disturbing her as she lay on him, her ear against his heart. When seeing where the full moon hung in the sky, he almost cursed aloud. Instead, Nick said, “Sweetheart, we need to get back before we’re missed.”

  “You’re right.” She sat up on her knees, still against his hips, then stood, shaking out her skirt. “I don’t want anyone learning of this.”

  He rolled to his side, suppressing a groan. Nick stood despite being stiff in every way. He straightened his clothes, agreeing, “Me neither.” He took her water and leaned in to whisper. “Before we go back, I want to know if you’re ending this ridiculous charade tomorrow. I’m not making love to another man’s wife, even if she’s you.”

  Beth took a couple steps away from him. “We can’t talk about this now. We have to return to camp.”

  He didn’t want to let her escape just yet. “You and I are dressed and merely walking together. If we’re seen by anyone else, we greet them as usual. Therefore, we can talk about this now and will do so before going back to camp.”

  Her jaw clenched, she said, “Fine, let’s talk and walk in that direction at the same time.”

  Letting her lead by half a step, he blurted, “You’re going to be Lizzy Bartlett tomorrow morning, aren’t you?”

  They nearly reached her wagon before she replied, “I have to, Nicholas.”

  He held his breath, suppressing the urge to yell she didn’t have to do be Lizzy ever again. With an exhale, he instead told her, “Before I say goodnight, I need to know why you won’t inform Bartlett you can’t be your sister anymore.”

  Beth replied in just above a whisper, “All right, since you can’t let it go. My father was ill and fading fast. A few months before he died, Pap made me promise to take Lizzy’s place since I let her die.”

  Nick had a tough time in believing Beth’s brother in law as an innocent bystander in all this. What was in it for the man to allow such a farce? “You did not let her die, Beth Ann. I can’t believe Bartlett would agree to such a foolish idea,” he said, giving her the water bucket.

  “Dag uses the promise I’d made against me, reminding me of how unlike Lizzy I am. He is always telling me how unhappy my father would be if he knew. It worked because I wanted to honor Pa’s request and because I didn’t save Lizzy.”

  “Beth, sweetheart, you’re the type of woman who’d die to save her sister.” Her surprised glance at him said he’d surmised correctly. Beth had understated everything earlier. He imagined her body in the water and took her by the shoulders to face him. “I know you, and a
m positive you did everything possible for Lizzy that day. Sometimes things just happen and no one can stop them. Being your sister isn’t the answer.”

  She put a hand on his arm. “I must admit, since meeting you, all this playacting has become unbearable.”

  “Good, because every time I see you, it’s unbearable to me too.” He squeezed her shoulders, fighting the urge to hold her close. “Despite my actions since meeting you, I don’t seduce other men’s wives. That is not the sort of man I am. I’ve been trying to seduce Beth Roberts, but she doesn’t exist, I guess.”

  “She can’t. I promised her away.”

  He wanted to talk, if not shake, the absurdity out of her. If despite his arguments, Beth wanted to continue the pretense, Nick decided to play along and help her change her mind. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Bartlett, but I may be too busy to help you out much in the future. I wouldn’t want to cause any gossip for you.”

  “I understand.”

  Nick paused at the sadness in her face. He hated seeing her anything but happy. Still, she needed to reconsider her life with Bartlett. This second episode of kissing cemented his feelings for her and Beth needed to see reason as well. “I hope so. Good night.” He turned on a heel toward his camp, hating the upset he saw in her eyes. Damn it, hurting her was the last thing he’d ever want to do.

  “Nicholas?”

  At her saying his given name, he halted. One word from her to stay and he’d never leave. “Yes?”

  “I had a nice time walking with you this evening.”

  His back to her, he said, “Mrs. Bartlett, you’d do well to call me Mr. Granville. You also need to remember there was nothing ‘nice’ about our time together this evening.”

  Nick made it to his camp, Sam and their hired hands sitting around the fire. He resented their chatting, singing, and laughing as if without a care in the world. Chuck and Lawrence were out on watch. He’d not seen them while in the tall grass with Beth. Even so, Nick could count on their discretion. Before he found a place to sit, he saw Sam motioning to him.

  “We’ll need to review the supply list before reaching the fort tomorrow. Let’s go and check for certain.”

  He knew Sam’s expressions and wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. “This won’t wait until tomorrow?”

  “No, this needs doing now.” The younger brother left the camp, heading out into the night.

  Nick followed, but only after giving whatever cooked in the Dutch oven a wistful glance. The sooner they did this, the sooner he could eat. “We couldn’t wait until after—”

  Sam turned, facing him. “What in the hell were you doing with that woman?”

  The sudden wrath surprised him. “What?”

  “Never mind, I’m sure I already know.” Sam glanced around before continuing, “Even if you don’t have shame now, Bartlett is sure to beat it into you.”

  What had his brother seen in the dark? Nick wondered. Too much, he suspected, and tried an offence response instead of defense. “Wait just a minute! We did nothing shameful.”

  “No? Why does your guilty face tell me you two did more than the kissing I saw?”

  “You saw more than the kissing?” He winced, knowing his voice squeaked an octave higher than usual.

  “Damn it all. You’re such a jackass!”

  Nick tried a feeble smile, hoping to calm his unusually angry brother. “You’re right, I crossed a line.”

  “Crossed? No, you jumped on, spit at, and rubbed out the line, Nicholas.” Looking at the sky, Sam went on, “You know she’s married. I’d already told Mrs. Bartlett to leave you alone, and—”

  “Let’s talk about that.” Nick could almost pinpoint when, and asked, “You said what to her, exactly?”

  “I said to leave you alone, she had no business seducing you. Exactly.”

  He laughed at the idea of Beth being so forward. Her kissing him this evening still amazed him. Nick taunted his younger brother, “Ever consider I was seducing her?”

  Sam crossed his arms. “Since you’re more moral than the usual cur, I never imagined it. I suppose I was wrong.”

  “But, you imagined her seducing me?” Nick paused. “She is, but not intentionally.”

  “Oh, well, that solves everything,” he retorted, sarcasm laced through Sam’s words. “Hopefully the beating you deserve from Bartlett isn’t meant as well.”

  His sarcasm and anger infected Nick like a common cold. Despite working to keep the tone light, he became more irritated at his brother. “You’re not being fair and don’t know everything in this case like you think you do.”

  Sam was silent for a moment, as if mulling over his next words before speaking. In a calm voice, he said, “I know you’ve missed Sally. We all do and your loss must pain you still. Mrs. Bartlett is a fine woman, but if you need a lay—”

  Nick interrupted him, his hands in fists, his body ready for a fight. “Choose your next words carefully.”

  “As I was saying…if you need a lady to court, there are quite a few in the group less encumbered with a husband.”

  He wanted to confide in Sam, but his stomach chose that moment to growl. “After I eat and before we sleep, there’s a lot I need to tell you.”