Chapter 8
Beth glanced in stunned silence from one man to the other. Daggart hadn’t used her own name since her father died. Both men glowered at each other, locked in a wordless fight. In an effort to diffuse the situation, she began, “Um, now that we have the water…” She trailed off when they turned to her, fury evident in both their faces. All that anger left her speechless.
His tone clipped, Nicholas acknowledged, “Yes, we need to get started.” He tipped his hat to both of them. “Mrs. Bartlett, Bartlett.”
After the man walked far enough away, Daggart threw down the pail with such force the side bent. He turned to her and grabbed the front of her dress under her throat. “You’re always hoping a man will save you from drowning or other accidents.”
“I hope someone would, yes,” she whispered.
He shook her a little with every few words. “One day, and I hope it’s soon, no one’s gonna be there to save you ‘n even if I am there, I’m not helpin’ you one bit.”
Before she could stop herself, Beth snapped, “Like you didn’t help Lizzy?”
Dag released her with a shove. “No, damn it all, I wanted to save her.” He followed her as she stumbled, adding, “I wasn’t there to help her like you were.” Once close, pressing her against the wagon, he reached back and grabbed her braid. Daggart dug his fingers in, nails scraping her scalp. “You let her die and are doin’ a real bad job of bein’ her. Your daddy wouldn’t like that, would he?”
Beth nodded as much as possible, wishing she’d never promised to be anything to this man. “I suppose not.”
He leaned in close, whispering, “You’d best be thinkin’ more of how Lizzy would behave on this trip and less as to how you would, or else.”
She doubted he’d have ever uprooted Lizzy from their home, even for gold. Beth hated his using threats and guilt. She hissed, “Or else what? Are you threatening to kill me? I thought you wanted Lizzy even if I had to pretend.”
As he grinned, she could see the remnants of his prior meal still in his teeth. “That’s the thing, Lizzy Lou. There are a lot of miles and a lot of accidents between here and California.” He looked up, tapping a finger against his chin in mock sorrow, “I’d hate to lose another wife. Such a pain, havin’ to dig your grave.” Daggart shrugged. “But if you’re not her, no sense in sharin’ my gold with the likes of you. Wouldn’t hurt me to get in practice with a shovel, either.”
Beth’s hairs on the back of her neck rose. He’d hit her, made her do things she’d thought awful, even threatened to leave her behind without anything, but Daggart had never spoke of murder when he was sober. Seeing the man’s determined face, she felt certain he’d carry out his threat. The Granvilles wouldn’t allow him to harm her, they couldn’t. She clasped her hands to keep them from shaking so Daggart wouldn’t see and use her fear against her. “I’ll do my best to be a better Lizzy.”
He laughed, “That’s what I want to hear. Do what I want when I want and nothing bad has to happen to you.” Letting go of her, he added, “Get goin’ on chores. I want my breakfast.”
For the rest of the morning, Beth did whatever possible to avoid Daggart. Heavy clouds blew in overhead, blasting everyone with hard, cold gusts. She couldn’t work on any stitching, instead concentrating on following the trail. In view of Daggart’s destructive mood, he’d likely use the new material for traction to get them out of the mud instead of anything else. While they stopped for noon, she sewed up her ripped sleeve. She considered herself lucky the left arm torn and easier to fix without having to take off her dress entirely. The stitches weren’t neat, but served a purpose until she could change into other clothes.
Very few had fires built for dinner, having found small amounts of wood in the distance between the morning and evening camps. She’d hoped this far in the prairie, buffalo chips weren’t so rare. Even if the chips were plentiful, they’d be soaked and useless. She and Daggart had their milk and yesterday’s bacon without a word. He smiled and chatted when others strolled by their campsite. After they passed by, he returned to a sullen silence. Beth enjoyed the quiet, but not the damp chill.
The wagon circle was far from any proper water, but heavy rains had left large puddles. The stock drank from them while the people used collected rainwater. Those who tried to raise tents soon found them flattened in the wind. She saw Daggart shrug and walk away as a nearby family’s blew down. Beth went over to help, folding, and making sure all the stakes were found.
The sky darkened with evening. Tired, cold, and still very wet, Beth decided against sewing or knitting, instead wanting to sleep. Her body still ached from the earlier fall in the creek and Daggart’s resulting temper. Despite hanging up the bedding to dry during the day, the humid air kept them damp. She felt more than saw Daggart come in under the blankets. He snuggled against her, waking her a little with his cold body. Not smelling the stink of whisky, Beth relaxed and fell back to sleep.
Beth both enjoyed and wondered about Daggart’s absence at breakfast. She’d soon fastened the blankets to the canopy, letting them hang outside again all day or at least until it rained. Beth followed their wagon at a distance. Her healing feet and other aches slowed her pace. The train continued through noon, stopping upon reaching Dry Creek. The stream lived up to its name by allowing everyone to cross easily but forcing the animals to go without a drink.
Samuel and Mr. Lucky caused a fuss when they rode back to the train. In the gossip, Beth learned they’d left a few days ago to scout ahead. She saw them in the camp later, but didn’t hear where they’d searched. Talk drifted back to her and the others walking with her that they’d stop at Wood Creek for the night.
The ten miles passed quickly. The breeze, still chilly, didn’t blow as hard as the prior two days. She smiled, thinking of how nice a dry bed would feel tonight. The sky stayed cloudless, keeping the day cool but dry. Daggart, along with the others, drove their team into the now familiar wagon circle. He continued to ignore her, something she found refreshing. Better to be ignored than scolded.
Beth had spent the day thinking of how scary rushing water was and how twice she’d needed Nicholas’s rescue. While she enjoyed how close he held her then, she’d rather be near him for other reasons. Determined to conquer some of the fear, Beth took Erleen down to the stream. The creek rushed by, higher than any she’d seen so far. Even the rivers hadn’t flowed with such voracity. The water escaped far out of its banks, judging by the trees lining a narrow strip down its middle. Erleen trotted down the bank and stopped for a drink. Her heart pounding, Beth stayed a safe distance away. She wanted to have no chance of falling in while holding onto the cow’s rope.
When Erleen finished drinking and started munching at the grass along the bank, Beth led her back to the wagon. She tied the animal off at the greenest part of their cart and went to get water for the evening meal. She took a deep breath and released it, hoping to calm her racing heartbeat. The pounding hurt against her sore ribs. She reassured her fears by thinking that they only needed a little water. Erleen’s milk could supplement, Beth admitted to herself, and she didn’t have to do this tonight. Nervous and biting her lip, she fixed her gaze on the opposite side.
She lifted her chin and took a step toward the creek. Beth gripped the pail so hard the handle dug into her palm. One step at a time, she slowly neared the bank. People around her went up to the churning creek, scooped up the water and left. Bending at the knees, Beth leaned over, skimming the surface and filling the bucket half full.
After straightening, she stepped back and took a couple of calming breaths. She walked toward the circle, thrilled at the small task she’d accomplished. Beth saw Nicholas walk toward her, carrying his own bucket. She couldn’t help grinning and pointing out her success. As he neared she blurted, “Look! It’s silly, I know, but I have water!” Her sore arm trembled with the effort as she lifted the pail.
Dutifully, he peered inside the bucket then looked at her with a smile. “Are you
doing better, then?”
Beth’s face grew warm as she returned his grin. He didn’t need to know about Daggart’s abuse. “Yes, and I have something to drink now if I’m not.”
He laughed, “I’m very proud of you trying, never mind doing.”
“Thank you! I’m proud of me too.” She sighed, somewhat embarrassed at admitting, “You’ve already twice played hero to my childish phobia. I couldn’t let you waste your time with a third incident.”
“There’s to be no third time?” He glanced around them then gave her an ornery smile. “Then I’ll have to find another reason to hold you close to me, sweetheart.”
He’d called her by the endearment before now, but always while she felt in danger. Hearing such an endearment in his voice, and directed at her no less, left her breathless. “You will, hmm?”
Nicholas, not breaking his gaze, took Beth’s hand and raised it to his lips. “I will.”
She tingled from the back of her hand to her heart. “That’s very comforting, thank you.” She couldn’t look away from his eyes, the grey in them catching and reflecting the gold and red of the setting sun.
“What’s going on, here?”
Samuel’s voice startled her. Even though he smiled at them, Beth jerked away her hand, tucking it behind her back in shame. Fright left her mind unable to think and she couldn’t answer.
Nicholas chuckled and shrugging said, “Come on, Sam. You’re not the only charmer around here. I think I’m allowed to congratulate a woman on a supreme accomplishment.”
Samuel shook his head at Beth in mock disbelief, “Supreme? It must have been to warrant holding hands. Please, my dear, tell me I’m truly the only appealing man in the entire group.”
She smiled, forcing herself to think fast and be witty. “You might not be the only one, sir. I think Mr. Nicholas has been learning from your fine example.”
“You break my heart with such confessions!” Samuel went to stand next to her, taking her arm in a protective way. “You’ll have to let me walk you back to your camp, telling me how I may regain my place as the most eligible one of us two.”
Glad she held the pail with her sore arm in case Samuel grew angry and pulled her along, Beth said, “I don’t think you have any reason to fret. Your brother may give you a close race, but you certainly win any contest.”
“She wounds me.” Nicholas put a hand to his heart, mocking, “How will I survive?”
She shook her head, not thinking he was serious by the way he smiled at her. “Just fine, I think. You already have one adoring admirer. Isn’t that all a man needs?” Nicholas spent so much time with Miss Amelia and the girl clearly preferred him, too. Beth could and must pretend she didn’t care.
A warning glance went between the brothers. Nicholas narrowed his eyes as if angry while Samuel cleared his throat, saying “I’m sure Nick has things to do while I see you safely back to your hold. Nick, later?”
The older brother gave a mock salute, and went to the creek to fill the pail. Beth resisted the urge to look back at him, instead falling in pace with Samuel.
They walked a little way before Samuel said, “My brother is a good man.”
Nodding, she agreed, “I’ve found him to be so.”
Samuel stared at her, eyes narrowed. “I would expect you to be a good woman.”
His frown unnerved her, but she shrugged off the worry. From his prior treatment of her and the other ladies, he’d been stern but never truly angry with anyone. Did Mr. Granville see through her? Did he see how much she felt for his brother already? Samuel had to know Beth only felt an infatuation for Nicholas and tried to deny herself even that little bit. She swallowed, replying, “I try to be a lady at all times.”
He patted her arm. “Good. I would hate to think of a married woman leading Nick on to discard him when he’s served his purpose.”
She stopped and chuckled at the idea. “Me discarding him?” Beth felt sure trading Daggart for Nicholas had to be an improvement. If she ever had the chance at a relationship with him, she’d never let Nicolas go. “Are you sure the reverse wouldn’t be true?”
“Not of him, he’s not the play around type. Nick cares too much about people.” Samuel started toward the circle again. “He’s been a hermit by choice for the past few years. He had his reasons, but I’m glad he’s out in polite society again.” They drew close to the Bartlett camp. Samuel continued, but in a quieter voice, “Don’t entertain yourself with his affections or I will not be happy with you. Do you understand?”
Beth felt sick. She now had two threats from two men in less than a week. Maybe she should be the one to leave polite society if threats were all anyone gave her. Pulling away from him, she answered, “I understand.”
“Good.” He released her arm and smiled as if nothing were amiss. As Daggart strolled up to them, Samuel hollered, “Bartlett! Will you be at tonight’s games?”
Dag grinned, replying, “Lookin’ forward to it already. If I can get my lazy woman to fix dinner, I’ll be there before mornin’.”
“Excellent! We’ll see you there.” Turning to leave, he tipped his hat at her. “Mrs. Bartlett.”
“Mr. Granville,” Beth nodded in reply. She sighed, considering herself warned. Would Samuel be as physical as Daggart? She watched her husband start a fire. Beth supposed, by Daggart’s continued silence, he still punished her. She smiled, thinking how his idea of punishment didn’t match her own. After peeling a couple of potatoes for dinner, she cooked them with bacon and made flat bread. They ate without conversation, Daggart leaving as soon as he took the last bite.
Beth gathered up their dishes, unwilling to go to the creek. A task achievable in daylight proved impossible in the dark. The thought of stumbling in the blackness terrified her. She settled for stacking everything in the bucket, promising a better wash during daylight.
Alone at last, she smiled while retrieving her sewing. First Dag beat her, then Samuel threatened her. Would Nicholas hurt her, too? She didn’t believe him capable, but wouldn’t have believed it of Daggart when they first met either. Despite the unease she felt when thinking of the Granvilles, Beth loved nearing the finish of her dress. She didn’t want to imagine any more meanness. Instead, she counted the stitches as she sewed.
The fire and dry place to rest was a blessing, allowing her to get several large pieces sewn together. Beth couldn’t help working faster on the hem. Once done, she tied a small knot, hiding the thread’s end in the fabric. Standing and stiff-legged from sitting so long, she held the dress up for inspection, loving how beautiful it looked. After folding and placing the garment in the wagon, she stoked the fire into a roaring brightness. Unable to wait any longer, Beth scrambled up into the wagon. She worked fast, changing from Lizzy’s old dress to her new one.
She hopped out into the firelight and spun around so the skirt flared. The waist hugged Beth’s waist. The bodice rose up enough for modesty’s sake, and yet she’d made a neckline low enough to be stylish. She hugged herself, thrilled with her efforts.
“I hope I enjoy my socks as much,” Nicholas said, walking into the firelight.
She started. “Oh my! I didn’t see you there.” Beth put a hand to her clavicle, surprised at touching skin. Lizzy’s dress had unfashionably gone up to her throat’s hollow, and she’d grown so accustomed to it over time that now a normal fitting dress seemed odd.
“Sorry if I startled you.”
Beth returned his smile, “I was enjoying my new dress too much to notice anything else.” His admiration warmed her more than the fire.
“It’s beautiful.” He stepped closer. “Turn around, let’s see if it fits in the back as well as it does the front.”
Her cheeks burned with bashfulness under his scrutiny. If Samuel saw how his brother stared at her, he’d be angry. She needed to shoo Nicholas away. “Sir, I think you’re enjoying this far too much.”
“You’re right, I am enjoying this.” He went to her. “If you knit better than you
sew, I’m one lucky man.”
“Then, you’re lucky. I do knit far better than I sew.” She smoothed imaginary wrinkles in her skirt, shy from her boasting.
He folded his arms. “Seeing you in such a dress? I’ll only believe it when I get my socks, and that will be when, again?”
“Oh, you!” She smiled at his apparent strategy. ”If you’re trying to get me to knit faster, it’s working.”
“Good!” Nicholas leaned toward her, saying with a sly grin, “I want something you made hugging my feet.”
Beth laughed at him. “You mock me far too much! To think, Samuel warned me not to tease you. He should be warning you about teasing me instead.” She stopped smiling when he frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“Sam warned you not to tease me?” His friendliness cooled to a hard anger.
Beth didn’t want yet another person livid with her, so she countered with, “I think I should set up the tent. Aren’t you tired?”
“No, I’m not at all.” Nicholas stepped closer to her, frowning. “Did Sam warn you about me?”
“A little, yes.” Nervous, she laced her fingers together, adding, “He pointed out, and rightly so, my status as a married lady.”
“Something we’re both very aware of.”
“Yes.” Beth wished she held something to worry with like men had their hats. Making a sunbonnet from the remaining fabric would help. He still watched her, as if waiting for Beth to say more. “Also, I’m not to amuse myself with you.”
Nicholas raised an eyebrow. “Amuse?” He chuckled. “He said that?”
She nodded. “Almost exactly.”
Laughing, he said, “I can imagine how he must have sounded. He’s far too protective for a younger brother.”
His amusement reassured Beth. Nicholas’s anger didn’t scare her as much as Daggart’s, but it still worried her. “Maybe so, but in this case I think he’s correct.” She glanced around, checking for eavesdroppers. “I find myself forgetting about Daggart when you’re near.” In a quiet voice, she added, “And sometimes when you aren’t near, I want to forget him.”
Nicholas started to say something to her but stopped. After a moment of staring off into the distance, he said, “Sam was right, shielding me from you.” He gave her a wry smile not reaching his eyes. “I need to go tell him to protect you from me.”
Panic surged through her. “Oh no, no, don’t do that. He’ll know I’ve spoken to you about this and I shouldn’t have.” She stepped up to him, willing to grab his suspenders to stop Nicholas if necessary. “He’s already not happy with me. Please don’t make it worse.” Beth bit her lip, saying, “I warned you about me, you warned me about you and everything is fine.” She smiled, patting him on the arm. “And now we’ve both been warned, so Samuel doesn’t need to be told anything, right?”
“He doesn’t,” Nicholas repeated, arms crossed again.
“Good.” The dangerous look returned to his face but not as intense as before. She put her hand on her hips, exasperated. “I can’t imagine why I mentioned his and my conversation to you. Once I’m near you, I start telling secrets. You are a dangerous man, Mr. Granville.”
As if liking the idea, he nodded, saying, “I am, and I’ll tell you a secret of my own.”
She took a step back. “I don’t know if I want to hear one from you. The other Mr. Granville wouldn’t approve.”
Giving her a sardonic look, he said, “It’s simply this: tomorrow will be here too soon. Your dress is done, so get some sleep. We still have the creek to cross, and I’m sure you won’t like doing so.”
“Oh dear.” She stared heavenward, wondering whether to get over her fears or just go back and try to find a new life.
He took her hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll be fine, good night and sleep well.” Nicholas said and left for his own bedroll.
“Good night, Nicholas,” she whispered. “I miss you already.”
In the morning, Beth gathered as much wood after breakfast as she could before travel started. The wagons crossed a wider portion of the creek bed laying a little north of camp. She rode across in the wagon, uncomfortable with wading across. Even though the water level was lower here, she’d still be in more than knee deep. She shuddered, thinking of what stumbling over a rock might do.
As the other teams drove over, a few mules resisted, balking and spooking the other animals, but no one was hurt. On the opposite side, the land flattened with slight hills on either side. They followed the wide valley, giving Beth a chance to knit as she walked. During lunch, Beth fervently wished the men found game of some sort. Cooking the same food day after day grew monotonous and eating it was worse.
The pace today seemed faster than usual to her. Not that anyone moved in a rush, but more as if the group’s rhythm moved quicker than in the prior days. They continued far into the evening, past the usual time for dinner. Word passed around the captains wanted them to gain as much ground as possible during the fine weather.
She agreed, liking the late spring air. Word was passed down to stop for the night just before dark. With no water source nearby, the men took turns digging a hole in the damp sand of a dry creek. Muddy water filled the temporary well as they dug. Women and some men scooped out what they needed then led animals for their drinks before night. Beth strained the liquid and set it aside for the silt to settle. Tomorrow, she planned on pouring the clearest layer from the top into the water jar and coffee pot.
Without being asked, Daggart set up their tent. She smiled at him, “Thank you, I appreciate this.”
He scowled, looking at his feet. “Aw, yer welcome. We’re about a couple days to the Platte. I’m goin’ to stop at Fort Kearny for supplies.”
The fort meant a chance to wear her new dress. Beth still didn’t relish the crowds, but did like the idea of wearing something pretty. “Good! I’d like to go, if possible.”
Daggart shuffled from one foot to the other. “One of us needs to watch our property here. You could tell me what you’re needin’.” He kicked an imaginary rock.
She gritted her teeth, wanting to yell at him. Beth instead forced herself to maintain an even tone, saying, “I’d prefer you not buy whisky there.”
In one swift move, Daggart grabbed her arm, pulling her close. He sneered, “You’re not tellin’ me what to do, are ya?”
Unable to look him in the eyes, she admitted, “No, but you hurt me when you’re drunk.”
He let her go with a little shove. After a few seconds, Daggart put his hands in his pants pockets. “I wouldn’t if you’d do your duty.”
“We both know the truth.” She clenched her teeth to keep calm. “It’s not my duty.”
Like a petulant child, he retorted, “As long as you’re my wife, it is.”
Beth didn’t want to argue, didn’t want to be reminded of their arrangement. She went to Erleen as if the cow needed attention. “Very well.”
He left without a word. Beth watched him walk away, glad Daggart had found other amusements. She’d heard enough gossip to know he played cards with the other men, or chatted with Mr. Chatillon. While Daggart was away this evening, Beth finished Nicholas’s socks. She wanted to find him, but suddenly felt shy. Beth put her sewing trunk back in the wagon instead, ready for sleep.
Sometime during the night, Daggart came back to their camp. He slept through the hustle of morning. She gently shook him awake. “Dag, it’s time for us to round up and go.”
He mumbled something about being tired and turned over for more sleep. Resigned to his sluggishness, Beth took down the tent around him. She loaded the canvas, pegs, and center pole as he slept.
Only after she hitched the oxen did he come around to the front of the wagon still rubbing his eyes. “I appreciate you pulling up stakes for me.”
She smiled at the first nice thing he’d said to her in a while. “You’re welcome. You set it up, the least I could do is pull it down.” He nodded, dismissing her. Beth patted Erleen as they followe
d the lurching wagon.
Beth watched for Nicholas all day, hoping to give him his new socks. She didn’t want a fuss, or anyone to consider her brash in making clothing for a man. She’d thought of him with every stitch, longing to spend hours alone with him. She loved talking with Nicholas as herself, not as some parody of Lizzy as Daggart preferred.
The wagon train ground to a halt as a large, sandy expanse stretched before them. Instructions spread through the group. Each wagon was to follow the one before as Chuck and Lawrence found a solid way through the sand. Drivers were encouraged to keep rolling, no matter how slow, to keep from sinking. Fine grains whirled in the hot afternoon air, choking everyone on two or four legs. After ten miles of blinding dust, both people and animals’ eyes burned. Beth’s own eyes held tears as if she cried in earnest.
Looking like bandits with bandanas covering their nose and mouths, Nicholas, Claude, and Mr. Lucky rode by her with only Nicholas stopping. He dismounted and went to Beth. “Mrs. Bartlett. We’re checking on everyone. Are you well enough to continue to Blue River for tonight?”
“Yes,” she replied through the cloth tied around her face.
He tipped his hat. “Good. See you this evening.”
The next nine miles passed by quickly for Beth. The harder grassland was so much easier to traverse than the desert. Plus, the promise of seeing Nicholas tonight kept her in high spirits. They’d not talked in a few days and she missed him. Catching sight of him once in a great while as he worked wasn’t enough to satisfy her.
Upon stopping, Beth did all her usual chores. The closest anyone came to clear water was a muddy stream, barely a trickle. The men again took turns digging in the soaked earth for water. At the shallow well, she gathered their portion and saw Sam, who nodded.
He walked up to her. “Mrs. Bartlett.”
“Mr. Granville.” She turned toward the camp.
“If you don’t mind, ma’am, we’d like you and your husband to join us for dinner tonight.”
Beth wondered, after his warning, why did he ask this? She saw nothing suspicious in his expression. “I’d like to, but can’t speak for my husband. He’s lately had his meals with whoever is playing cards that evening.”
His eyes narrowed. “I see. I hope you can attend, even if he chooses to dine elsewhere again.”
“Thank you.” She asked, “Should I bring anything?”
“No, you’ll be our guest this evening.” Samuel gave her an inscrutable smile and went to the camp.
By the time Erleen was fed and milked, the sky glowed amber. Not seeing Daggart anywhere, Beth went on to stake out the oxen, making sure they also had a long drink at the well. While leading the animals around for their refreshment, she saw various couples walk along the embankment, pretending to look for a spring. She smiled to herself at how the young adults flirted under their elders’ watch. If Lizzy still lived, Beth might have her own husband by now.
Beth forced the thought out of her mind. She didn’t want to dwell on her situation. Anything near the subject led to her brooding, and that would leave her unable to enjoy the evening. Once the animals were settled in, she took Nicholas’s socks from her trunk to make sure he received them.
She went to the Granville’s camp and saw all their hands circled around the fire. Nicholas and Samuel sat there too, taking turns tending to the food. Beth chewed on her lip, not wanting to call attention by boldly stepping into the light. Samuel saw her and waved, causing Nicholas to see her too. Beth smiled and walked over, her face warm from the greeting everyone gave. The men all stood and talked at once.
“Good evening,” she said when the fuss quieted. “Thank you for inviting me. I’ve not seen Mr. Bartlett this evening, or I’m sure he’d be here too.”
Mr. Lucky piped up, “I saw him at the Chatillon’s. He and the old man play a lot of poker.”
Chuck nudged him quiet, and he added, “Not for keeps, though. Mr. B says he’s saving up for his stake.”
The others snickered at this. Beth glanced around at them. Each one noticed her gaze and lowered his eyes. “I’m sure he is,” she responded. She knew their opinions because they echoed her own. Any gold in California had already been claimed by ‘49ers, or by those with money to buy huge tracts of land. Lizzy had refused to go when alive, so Daggart didn’t argue. If not for the two good years of farming and his bullying, they’d not be going now.
Chuck asked her, “Ma’am, if you don’t mind me wondering, what’s in your hand?”
She glanced at Nicholas talking to Claude. “This?” Beth held up the items. “Mr. Granville requested a pair of socks after seeing me knit my own pair.”
Samuel cut his eyes over to his brother, while Chuck, Mr. Lucky, and Lawrence made catcalls. After Nicholas said something inaudible to Claude, he too joined in on the taunts. Beth felt certain she blushed to her toes.
Standing, Nicholas quieted them. “Now, now, gentlemen. The lady has been kind enough to make me something that not only warms my heart, but my toes as well.”
“Oh goodness!” she gasped, entirely mortified. “I enjoy knitting, and you needed something less holey. Nothing more than this, certainly.”
He went to Beth, holding out his hand for his socks. She gave them to him and he examined them, grinning. “These are perfect, thank you very much.”
Nicholas went to his place in the circle. While Claude and Samuel watched, he took off his boots and socks. At that, everyone, including Beth, acted as if they smelled how foul his feet were. He gave them all a withering glare before pulling on his new socks. The men laughed as he wiggled his toes, except Claude until Samuel translated. He joined in and said something to Nicholas Beth couldn’t understand at all.
Nicholas put on his boots and stood, saying, “Gentlemen, Monsieur Claude wants a pair of his own. I’d like to suggest he find some other charming woman to knit him socks, someone sweet and lovely like Miss Amelia.” This earned him more good humored jeers.
“However, if Mrs. Bartlett is asked nicely and would want to waste her time on the likes of all of you,” he paused for their snide comments to end before continuing. “Then, I’m sure she’ll consider knitting anyone interested a pair of their own.”
As one, the men looked at her. Shy, she looked at her hands then up at them. “If you wanted, I might.” They all nodded, including Nicholas. “The only thing I ask is when we reach Fort Kearny, you see if there’s any wool. I used the last of what I had on Mr. Granville’s request. If you choose what color you prefer, I’ll knit socks for you too.” She tilted her head, smiling at them. “Unless, of course, there’s a beautiful girl you want to knit for you instead.”
“I can’t imagine anyone more lovely than you, my dear,” Samuel said. “I also can’t imagine how waiting for dinner will make us any hungrier than we already are.” He dished up a tin cup of food, passing it to her with a spoon.
She waited until everyone had food before taking a bite. It was delicious, a much welcome change from the usual. “What is this?”
“Rabbit stew,” Chuck replied. He took a quick look up at her from his dinner, adding, “Mr. Lucky shot a big hare, not like those little brown rabbits back in Missouri.”
Taking another bite, she was grateful for his assurance that no sweet little rabbits had died for her dinner. Her dismay must have shown on her face, Beth figured. She ate all of it, enjoying every spoonful. They had carrots and potatoes in the stew. She missed her garden more after every mouthful. Beth noticed Nicholas finishing just after she did and then putting his dishes in a bucket.
“If you don’t mind, gentlemen, I’ll walk Mrs. Bartlett back to her camp.” He took her dishes amid their protests, placing them with his own. “Her husband might be done winning all of Chatillon’s money and wondering where she is.”
Beth told them, “Thank you for a wonderful dinner.” She addressed Samuel, “Thank you too for inviting me. I had a pleasant evening.”
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Bartlett,” he replied
, putting up his things as well.
She followed Nicholas out of the camp. They walked along the outer edge of the wagon circle. Now alone with him, Beth realized everything she wanted to say were things Samuel had warned her against. She sighed in frustration.
Nick gave her a sidelong glance. “Let’s step a little bit away from the wagons.”
Biting her lip to hide a smile, she asked, “Is that safe?”
He leaned close to her, whispering, “No.”
She laughed and nodded. “Oh? I like an honest man.”
“Then you’ll love me.” He stopped walking and she also halted. “I’m honest to a fault, which can be bad in some cases.”
“I could see that,” she acknowledged with a grin. “Especially if a woman wants to know how a dress fits her or if you think another girl is prettier than her.”
Holding his hands up in surrender then taking one of hers, Nicholas said, “Exactly so.”
As he led her on to her camp, Beth added, “So, now I know not to ask you questions if I don’t want to hear the answer.”
“Do you think so?” Nicholas guided her a little ways out from the circle where the light faded. “If you asked how your dress fits, I’d have to say perfectly. It accents every beautiful curve. If you asked me if any woman could be prettier than you, I’d have to say no, never.”
She chuckled a little, unsure of how to react in a sophisticated way to such language. “I think you’ve been taking sweet talk lessons from Samuel.”
He faced her, tilting her chin up to him. “The talk may be sweet, but it’s also honest.”
Beth tried to think of her promise but Nicholas stood too close to her, his scent affecting her too much. “You can’t really feel such things. Not about me.”
“I do feel such things about you, all the time.” He caressed her cheek.
“You can’t, anymore than I can. When I’m around you, I want to forget all the agreements I’ve ever made to anyone else.” Beth put her hand to his chest, more to push her away than him. His eyes were so dark in the dim light. A shadow of whiskers dusted his cheeks and chin.
“You agreed to something you don’t want anymore?” He cupped the back of her neck in an embrace.
“Anymore? No, never.” She shuddered with revulsion, taking her hand from his chest and holding one of his suspenders. “I was forced into accepting something I never wanted.”
Nicholas pulled her closer to him with one hand on her arm as his other hand caressed her tense neck muscles. “Do you know you’re speaking in riddles?”
“Yes, and I’m sorry.” She ran her fingertips slowly up and down his suspenders. “Part of the promise is to never tell anyone what truly happened.”
“If you asked, would they release you from this?” Nicholas rested his lips against her forehead.
Beth paused. She wanted to tell him everything but couldn’t. Then too, she couldn’t lie to him. Maybe he’d be satisfied with some of the story for now. Beth closed her eyes before telling him more. “I made a promise to my father and Daggart. My father’s gone, so I’d be disrespecting the dead. And, Daggart wouldn’t ever release me, not while,” she paused. Unable to think of a fitting reason, Beth continued, “Well, never.” She felt his smile against her skin.
Each word he said felt like a kiss as Nicholas countered with, “Never is a very long time. I’ve said never again then recanted far sooner than I expected.”
Seeing a chance to divert him from her own history, Beth asked, “Did it have something to do with you being a hermit?”
He pulled away, giving her a stern glare. “Sam told you?”
She nodded. “It was when he warned me away from you. He also said you’d have to tell me yourself if I wanted to know any more about you.”
Nicholas took her hand, leading her further into the dark. “Come with me.”
His brother’s warning came to her mind as the light behind them faded. She shuddered, whispering, “I can’t. I promised Samuel.”
He took her other hand and walking backward, said, “You can and will. I give you permission.”
“But if Sam…” she protested as they went deeper into the darkness.
“He isn’t invited,” he said, drawing her close to him.
Chest to chest, his arms around her, Beth panicked, thinking of Samuel’s warning. Only, with the smell and feel of Nicholas, what had he said? Don’t something? “Nicholas, we can’t…”
His mouth covered hers, tender at first, then insistent, hungry. Beth tried to resist, keeping her own lips still under his caress. When he drew away, his mouth still touching her own, the sudden absence increased her desire a hundredfold. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him into a deeper kiss as he held her to his waist. Their bodies were pressed so close, she couldn’t tell which one of them moaned first.
The ferocity in his kisses both scared and thrilled Beth because she felt the same driving need for him. The thought of her and Nicholas accomplishing what Daggart drunkenly tried to do occurred to her. Upon imagining she and Nicholas undressed together, she felt his tongue touch her own. Beth whispered, “Please, Nicholas, please. I want more of you. All of you.”
He kissed down her neck to Beth’s shoulder. “You don’t know what you’re asking, sweetheart.”
She wanted to argue her meaning, but as his lips traveled down her cleavage, she couldn’t speak. Such pleasure now seemed worth any price Beth would later pay. Nicholas leaned her back in his arms. He nipped at the swells above the bodice. She gasped as he did so, the first time she’d ever felt such a thing. He braced her weight against his hips. When Nicholas pressed something hard against her, she suspected he was aroused. “Are you wearing a gun?” Beth asked, and then felt his smile against her breast.
“No, that’s not my gun.” He pulled down a shoulder of her dress, lips pressing against the warm flesh exposed to the cool air. He kissed his way from one of her shoulders to the others, pausing at her cleavage.
Every touch, every breath she heard increased this craving for all of him. Beth tried to control the hunger her body had for his. She must stop herself, must stop his lovemaking. “Nicholas, they’ll start looking for us if we don’t…” Beth ran her hand through the hair at the back of his head, pressing him closer to her. “I need to care if they see us like this.”
He kissed his way up to her lips, back where he started and less intense than earlier. After replacing her dress’s shoulder where it belonged, he ran his hand down her spine. Resting in the small of her back, his hand pressed her nearer to him. “I want you, Elizabeth, but not yet. Not until everything’s ideal for us,” he murmured against her mouth.
She wanted to argue with him, tell him everything was ideal right now. The hardness of his desire pressed against her, causing Beth to say, “That can’t all be you.”
He quietly laughed. “If not, something’s different from last time I checked.”
Beth chuckled, pressing a hand against his chest as if pushing him away from her. “You’re so terrible! Manly too, but mostly terrible.”
Nicholas kissed the tip of her nose. “I think it’s a little soon for you to be so sure I’m terrible at this.”
“You tease!” She pretended to pull away, but his arms held her fast. “Nicholas, I really must tell you something.”
He groaned, saying, “Sounds serious and I don’t want to be. Tell me tomorrow.”
Smiling at his petulance, she went on, “It is serious. You should know Samuel frequently reminds me of my marital status.”
He loosened his hold on her a little. “I see.”
“He’s very charming about it, mostly.” She bit her lip. “And he’s right. I’m supposed to be married. We shouldn’t be alone in the dark.” Beth swallowed the lump in her throat. “He seems to think I have no morals concerning you.”
Nicholas sighed as if hearing the worst news. He shook his head, saying, “We can’t have Sam being right. He’s full enough of himself as it is. You need
to get these morals as soon as possible.”
Beth’s jaw dropped until she realized he was joking. She held his suspenders out, then let go, laughing at their snap on his chest. “You’re a wicked man.”
“I am, when it comes to you.” He stepped back, releasing her from his arms. “And you’re correct too. As long as you have promises to keep to others, we can’t be alone again.”
Beth crossed her arms, chilled from his absence, and nodded. Not wanting to agree, she said, “I’ll do what I can to avoid us being together.”
“Damn it all. I don’t want that. I want you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. Let’s return. It’s getting late and I need a plan for us.”