CHAPTER FIVE
DAMN HIM INDEED.
The stop for lunch was going to be longer than Luke would have liked, but they didn’t have a choice. The heat and humidity had taken their toll on everything and everyone. Luke couldn’t remember a day in recent times when the weather had been so oppressive. The choice to stop at the waterhole made everyone nervous. It was too obvious a resting spot, too likely a spot for robbers and Indians to seek shelter, too, but there was shade. And water. And until the sun got a little lower in the sky, it was their only option.
Here the horses could cool off and rest. They could replenish the water that had evaporated from the water barrels and get a bite to eat. But he didn’t have to like it. Especially since it’d meant he had to let Josie slip from his arms. No, he definitely hadn’t been in favor of that.
There was something about holding her softness against him that created a sense of peace deep inside him. As if her presence filled a hole he hadn’t noticed until now. Peace and Josie in the same sentence didn’t make any sense. The woman was as contrary as they came and havoc followed her like a plague. Nonetheless, riding with her in front of him, he’d felt at peace, quite possibly for the first time in his life.
From where he stood beside Tia’s wagon after watering the horses, he had a clear view of the campsite. Tia sat on a log by the water with Ed. They shared a tortilla while waiting for lunch. There were smiles and laughter aplenty despite the exhausting pace. Love might have come late to Tia’s life but it’d come pure.
Luke watched as she handed the tortilla to Ed, whose smile was lost beneath his mustache. Tia flexed her hands. Her arthritis was probably acting up. It always did when it was going to rain. A glance at the sky didn’t give him a warm glow. A storm was brewing. He wished they were on their way, but that wasn’t possible. Traveling with women meant taking their needs into consideration, so here they all were, wagons tucked in among the trees as out of sight as possible, enjoying the shade.
The vaqueros not on guard duty were making lunch despite Tia’s insistence she could do it. Zach’s men treated Tia like a queen and when she and Ed stood and joined them around the campfire, they made a place for her to hold court. Conversation and laughter was muted—they were all aware of the potential threat—but Luke noted Tia was enjoying her adventure.
Luke wasn’t surprised when Zach came up alongside a few minutes later. The Montoya foreman was a quiet man with an eagle eye and a quick hand with a gun. He also had a rather questionable sense of humor of which, at the moment, Luke didn’t feel like being a victim.
“Keep on walking, Zach.”
That could have been a slight twitch of the other man’s lips as he leaned back against the wagon. It was hard to tell. Expressions came and went across Zach’s face with the subtlety of a ghost crossing your path. He was a lethal poker player. “I would love to.”
Luke could hear it coming. “But?”
“Tia asked me to come talk to you.”
“Tia’s not your boss.”
“No,” Zach said, pulling out a cigarillo. “But I like her.”
“So?”
Zach shrugged and shook a sulfur out of the tin. “So it pleases me to make her happy.”
“She has a husband to make her happy.”
This time there was no mistaking the grin that came to his face. He clicked the tin closed. “I like him, too.”
“Son of a bitch.”
Zach struck the sulfur. The flame hissed a warning. He tilted his head as he lit the cigarillo, the tip glowing red when he took a drag. “Tia does not like that you make our guest unhappy.”
“How am I making her unhappy? I haven’t even spoken to her since we got here.”
“This I believe is the problem.” He blew out a steady stream of smoke. “Too much you frown at the woman. As a woman, Tia does not understand. As a man, I understand even less. This one is an attractive woman. Single. Entertaining. Ripe for the plucking.” He cocked a dark brow at him. “And she interests you.”
“Throwing the little photographer at me is you ‘fixing things’?”
Zach shrugged and offered him a cigarillo. “It is my start.”
Luke declined. He was giving quitting another try. “Do you have an end?”
“That would depend on how amusing you intend to be on this journey.”
“Not a damn bit. I’m here riding guard. I’m not here to entertain Josie Kinder.”
“This would be a shame.”
“And why is that?”
Zach grinned and Luke was suddenly reminded of how Sam had once grumbled about his foreman’s too-attractive face and inherent charm. “Because she is pretty, alone and never have I seen a woman who requires a man more to help give her focus.”
“Seriously? Lacking focus? Seems once the woman gets to taking a picture she just forgets everything else.”
“Perhaps I should rephrase. She needs someone, a man like you, to help direct her focus to more worldly things.”
“Tia wouldn’t be trying to matchmake, would she?”
Zach shrugged. “I did not ask.”
But they both knew Tia didn’t want him to leave. “Giving that woman direction is more work than I hanker for.”
“Hmm.” Zach took another drag and cocked his head to the side. “Have you seen her photographs?”
“No.” It wasn’t a total lie. He’d only allowed himself a glance at them.
“You should look at them sometime. There is beauty in her attention to detail.”
Luke didn’t want to know much more about the woman. She was already too tempting. No matter how lush her figure or how passionate her nature, she was an Easterner through and through. From her ridiculous hat to her impractical clothing with too many layers. Heaven forbid she ever had to run. She wouldn’t make it two steps. And don’t get him started on that damn horse she loved. It was as ill suited to this world as she was. But more important, she was heading back home when this lark was done. Why let himself get involved?
“Truth is, I’ll be glad when we get to the Montoya ranch and my babysitting duties are over. Until then, I intend to keep a distance.”
“As you did this morning?”
“Shut up, Zach.”
Zach took a deep drag on his cigarillo and released it in a long plume of blue smoke before smiling a genuine smile that gave Luke pause.
“What?” Luke recognized that grin.
Zach glanced in Josie’s direction, where she fussed with the box she’d had him drag out of her wagon and over to Tia’s. “Like I said, Tia wants the little picture taker happy.”
Luke had a feeling where this was going. “That has nothing to do with me.”
“I’m afraid it does. Tia has decided you will watch over her.”
“Then why isn’t Tia telling me this herself?”
“She fears your reaction.”
“Oh bullshit. Tia hasn’t feared a thing in all the time I’ve known her.”
Though admittedly, she might fear his reaction to her matchmaking. Tia had known him too long not to have noticed his interest.
“That’s not true. She tells me she often feared for the Hell’s Eights’ lives when you were on your path of revenge.”
“Yeah, well... There’s a lot of things Tia didn’t understand then.”
Zach shrugged. “She is a woman. This is to be expected, but she wants softer things for you than the death you pursued.”
That was true. The one thing that had kept the Hell’s Eight civilized through all those wild years was the relentless pressure Tia had put on them to hold their honor sacred. And after that, to dream. She alone had encouraged his story writing. Especially in those times when he didn’t want to write. He sometimes felt she’d pushed him the hardest then. Even when what he did write came out as black pictures of death and revenge, she’d told him his words were powerful. And he’d believed her because their impact was reflected in her expression.
He’d asked her about that once. Why she’d kept encouraging him when she’d so clearly been upset by what she was reading. She’d said a story had to run its course, and sometimes it had to come to the blackest part to find the light. He’d never found light, but he had found a neutral corner.
“You realize I don’t believe you, right?”
“You realize I don’t care.” Zach took another drag on his nearly finished cigarillo before smiling around the thin dark smoke. “Oh, and one more thing.”
Wonderful. “What?”
Zach straightened. “The picture taker? She would like to take some pictures of flowers down by the river before we leave.”
Luke ran his hand over the back of his neck. Another delay. “I don’t like that we’ve already had to stop so much.”
“We cannot go any faster. The weather is bad and Tia and Ed are too old.”
“And the wagons are heavy.” Luke dropped his hand from his neck. “I don’t understand why Tia had to pack so much.”
Zach shrugged. “Tia doesn’t travel anywhere without her necessities.”
“I remember when her necessities used to fit in a knapsack.”
Zach smiled. “It is a good life you have given her.”
“Not good enough.” He couldn’t fight off death or the inevitable.
With a wave of his hand, Zach indicated the painted wagon and its occupant. “The photographer awaits you.”
And so she did. Standing by the wagon with a box dangling from a strap over her shoulder, her lush figure clearly constrained once again by a corset, in direct contrast to his orders.
Son of a bitch. He slapped his hand against his thigh. Wasn’t passing out once enough of a warning? Yet as soon as he’d turned his back, she’d gone in that damn wagon and strapped herself into that torture device.
She watched him approach, her gaze steady and her smile timid.
With a jerk of his chin, he indicated her dress. “You’re wearing a corset.”
The shy smile hovering on her lips died. A flush crept up her neck and over her cheeks. Her grip on the box strap tightened till it was white-knuckled. He’d noticed she did that when trying to control herself. No doubt she was stifling the urge to punch him.
“Not only is it improper for you to mention my attire, what I wear is none of your business.”
What did he care for propriety? “It’s definitely my business if you fall flat on your face again.”
“I won’t.”
She sounded very sure of that. “Why?”
“Because I want this picture.”
She was completely illogical. “Wanting a picture isn’t going to keep heat exhaustion at bay.”
She shifted the strap higher on her shoulder. “I want to get moving.”
“Oh, now you want to get moving. Well, we’re not going anywhere until you take off that corset.”
“If I take off the corset, my dress won’t fit.”
“Then put a scarf around your shoulders or just let it gape.”
She blinked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “I can’t go around with my dress open. That would be indecent.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Indecent beats dead.”
She had the gall to roll her eyes. “I’m not going to die.”
“You’re not walking around out here wearing that corset, either.”
Her jaw set. So did his.
She tried again. “I don’t have time to change.”
“Why not?”
She waved her hand toward the sky. “Because the clouds will shift.”
“They tend to do that.”
“I’ve never seen clouds like these.”
He had and it worried him. “A storm’s brewing.”
She stamped her foot. “The light is perfect. The clouds are going to make a perfect backdrop.” She glanced over her shoulder. “And if I don’t go now, I’m going to lose it.”
Her grip on the camera mirrored her grip on the strap. She was clearly getting her stubborn all riled up, ready to pull it out and wave it in his face like a sword. He didn’t have the patience for this.
“I’ll make you a deal.” He settled his rifle into the crook of his arm. “I’ll escort you down to where you want to take a picture, but when the picture’s done, the corset comes off. We can’t be delayed again by your passing out.”
She hitched the strap up again, a victorious smile twitching the corners of her mouth. “Done.”
That smile was going to cost her. Bracing his rifle against the wagon, he reached for the camera box. “I’ll carry that.”
“I always carry my equipment.”
“But I’m here now.”
“This is unnecessary.”
With a cock of his brow he used her own argument against her. “Do you really have the time to pitch a fit with me?”
She licked her lips, drawing his attention to their delectable softness. “No, but you need to understand I want to.”
Somewhere to someone, that probably made sense.
He held out his hand. “But you won’t.”
Slowly, reluctantly, she slid the strap off her shoulder. “Please be careful.”
“I already told you—you can trust me.”
“But this is different.”
He took the equipment. The box was surprisingly heavy. With his free hand, he tipped her gaze to his. “No, it’s not.”
Dropping his hand to her shoulder, he steered her around. “Now, lead on.”
The look she gave him should have singed his short hairs. He smiled as she trudged off. Grabbing his rifle, he followed.
Not surprisingly, she led him to a patch of wildflowers growing in the midst of a field, dotting the green expanse with pinks, yellows and whites. She stopped, made a square with her hands as if using them as a scope, and surveyed the scene. She moved all around the patch, standing, kneeling and twisting until she finally seemed to find a spot just shy of the middle that suited her. She looked pretty surrounded by the flowers. “This will do right here.”
It didn’t look like anything spectacular to him. “You sure?”
“Yes.” She motioned impatiently. “Hand me the box, please.”
“What’s the hurry?” He slid the strap off his shoulder. “They aren’t going anywhere.”
“But the light will. Light changes on a whim. And those clouds...” She motioned again. “They’re just perfect.”
Shaking his head, he set the box down. Cradling his rifle in his arms, he watched as she efficiently put everything together, mounted the camera on its support, and meticulously lined up everything for the image she wanted. He might as well have been a bump on a log for all the attention she paid him. Which was fine with him. He enjoyed watching her.
She was so different when working with the camera—competent and confident, her attention focused, a slight furl between her brows. There was no fumbling or bumbling, no tripping, no absentmindedness. She knew what she was doing and it showed. She took her shots, exchanged the tins and reset the camera. He turned as she did, but try as he might, he couldn’t see what she did. To his eyes they were just flowers, sky and clouds, but in her eyes they were clearly a vision. He wondered if it was a bit like when he stared at a blank page and the words started flowing and the story developed. It was an interesting concept.
Crouching down, she examined the scene again. Standing, she removed the camera from the tripod and brought it down to the ground. Her frown deepened. She looked up at the sky. Moved the camera a tiny fraction. Not enough to make a difference to bug dust. But it seemed critical to her. She changed the angle. Clearly wanting more of the sky. For someone in a hurry, it took forever for her to take the picture.
“So powerful,” she whispered.
He followed her gaze and it was his turn to frown. The clouds were heavier, darker, forming a wall in the distance. On a hot, humid, oppressive day like today, tornadoes were known to sweep in. And this storm looked set to be the ornery type that would spring just such a surprise.
“Time to pack it up, Josie.”
With a regretful sigh, she nodded, stood and arched her back. The pose stuck her breasts out in sharp relief. It was his turn to freeze.
With a satisfied “There” she picked up the camera.
With an inner shake, Luke found his voice. Josie was so wrapped up in her picture taking, he doubted she noticed the added roughness. Women weren’t usually so oblivious to him. It was an...interesting experience. “Did you get what you wanted?”
The wind kicked up, blowing strands of hair across her face. She brushed them back. “Oh yes.”
If he could’ve taken a picture of her right then, he would have. With the storm churning the sky in the distance, the wind whipping her skirts around her legs and pressing her dress to her lush figure, she was a confident siren. The smile on her face only added to the seductive tendrils she’d been wrapping around him since the day they’d met.
“What do you see through your camera?”
“Magic.”
“Show me.”
She made a square of her hands again. “Put your hands like this.”
“Hold my rifle.” She took it gingerly. He made a square as she’d shown him.
“Now get down here and look through that ‘lens.’”
When he did, she moved him over. “Not there. Here.” She tugged his hand down. “Now look.”
Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of what she’d hoped to capture—the turbulence of the sky, the subtle peace of the flowers caught on the edge of the storm, the immenseness of the land—all of it encapsulated in one blink. And then wind blew, the cloud drifted and the moment was gone. He stood and retrieved his rifle, wondering if he’d even seen what he’d seen. He nodded to the tintype. “I want to see that when you’re done.”
“Of course.” She frowned. “But I don’t think I’ll have time to develop it before we leave.”
She sounded hopeful.
Another glance at the sky. “No, you won’t.”
“I was afraid of that.” She loaded everything back into the case. The picture taking seemed to have reenergized her. “I don’t want to wait too long in case the tins get damaged.”
“I understand.”
“Maybe when we stop for the night.” She was still on the developing.
“Maybe.” Taking the case, he waved her ahead of him. “It will be near dark by then.”
“That’s fine.”
She hiked up her skirts and climbed up the slight hill. Not enough for him to get more than a glimpse of her serviceable shoes. More’s the pity.
“I need dark to develop the image,” she continued. “Too much light is bad.”
Out of curiosity, he asked, “How do you know what you’re doing if it has to be dark?”
“I use a tiny bit of indirect light.”
“Do you ever make mistakes?”
“All the time. Developing is different with every picture.” Looking back over her shoulder, she asked, “Do you think it’s going to rain?”
“Probably.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You going to have room in that wagon for me when the skies open up?”
She stopped and turned before looking him up and down. “Do you think you’ll fit?”
He had no doubt she meant that in the most innocent of terms. It didn’t matter to his imagination. He could see himself lifting her onto the mattress, coming over her, forcing her back, easing himself down over her until they were chest to breast, breath to breath... He tipped his hat back.
“I will definitely make us fit.”
That us caught her attention. She flushed a bright pink that just emphasized the color of her eyes. He was getting real partial to that particular shade of blue.
Clearly stuck in the moment, she licked her lips. “Um.”
He waited but nothing followed.
“That’s all you’ve got? Just ‘um’?”
Her muttered “For the moment” floated behind her.
Luke smiled. He did like her sass. He checked the horizon again. The storm was moving fast. Camping in the open tonight was not going to be an option. There were some caves three miles west of their current course. They might be able to make it there ahead of the rain.
“If you hustle, you might not have to come up with a better retort.”
Holding her hair back from her face, she asked, “Do you think we can outrun the storm?” She seemed excited by the prospect.
He shook his head. “Do you honestly see that nag of yours outrunning anything?”
Frowning, she corrected, “His name is Glory.”
“Uh-huh.” He motioned her on. She didn’t go any faster. “Woman, move.”
With a sigh, she stepped up her pace. “Are you afraid of getting wet?”
It was a damn naive question. “I don’t like to get caught in a wash or out in the open when a storm like that one brewing opens up. And a day as hot as today is usually goes out with a bang.”
“Oh, I hope so. I love thunderstorms.”
“Says the woman from Massachusetts.”
She stopped and spun around. “Now, what do you have against Massachusetts?”
With a hand on her shoulder he kept her turning until she was back on course. With a nudge he got her moving again. “Not a damn thing, but you haven’t seen storms like we have here. They spit out tornadoes as randomly as they spit out raindrops.”
Another stop. Another turn. She blinked. “A tornado?”
“Yup.”
She glanced at the storm with a little less enthusiasm. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. One can’t just ride out a tornado. You either avoid it or it picks up your butt and tosses it four states over.”
Gathering up her skirts, she said, “Then we’d better hurry.”
“I thought that’s what I’d been saying.”
“It’s rude to boast.”
Hitching the box over his shoulders, he caught her hand. “Even ruder to ignore sound advice.”
She tugged at her hand. “I can walk, you know.”
“You seem more inclined to stroll.” He set a brisk pace. She was forced to skip a little to keep up.
“Do we have to run?”
“Yes.” Mainly because it gave him an excuse to keep her hand in his.
When they got to the camp, everything was already packed up. Zach shot him a look. “Storm’s coming in.”
“I noticed.”
Zach pushed his hat back. “Hopefully, it’ll blow on by, but either way, we need to move.”
Ed helped Tia up from where she sat. Driving this morning had taken a visible toll on her. She hobbled a bit on her way to her wagon, Ed hovering protectively, keeping his hand on the base of her spine, though he wasn’t moving any easier.
Luke tugged Josie in the direction of Chico. “You come with me.”
“As if I have a choice.”
No, she didn’t.
Josie shook her head and dug in her feet. “My wagon...”
It barely took any muscle at all to pop her along behind him. “I’ll get one of the men to drive it.”
“I thought you couldn’t spare somebody in case there was a problem.”
“You get sick.”
“I’ll drink plenty of water. And—” she sighed, shaking her head at him “—I’ll take off my corset.”
She might be learning. “A wise decision.”
They’d arrived at the back of her wagon. She pulled her hand free as he opened the brightly painted doors. She clearly took exception to his tone.
Straightening her bonnet, she said with deliberate indifference, “A deal’s a deal, after all. I got my pictures and now you get my corset.”
He passed her the camera box. “I was wondering if we were going to have to fight on that.”
“No, but I’m driving my wagon. No Comanche is going to wave my scalp around because you wasted a guard on something I can do myself,” she stated firmly as she put the box in the back of the wagon.
So now she was giving orders? He pushed his hat back. “What do you know of Comanche?”
“I’ve done my research. I’ve read all about the West.”
“You’ve read about it?”
She nodded. The brim of her bonnet cast her eyes in shadow. He didn’t like it. “Extensively. The West and its traditions are quite fascinating.”
“I see.” He could just imagine what she’d read.
“Mr. Savage, my favorite author, has quite the descriptive flair,” she informed him blithely. “To the point I feel as if I’ve already been here.”
It was his turn to blink. That took care of the need to imagine. Damn. He tugged his hat down over his brow. She was hot for his pseudonym? He didn’t know how he felt about that. “You can’t believe everything you read.”
She was undeterred. “I believe enough to know I don’t want to be scalped.”
“No Comanche would snatch your scalp.” They’d snatch her virginity and her future, but they’d leave that thick mane of hair.
Another roll of her eyes. “I appreciate your trying not to scare me, but I’m not beyond common sense, you know. I recognize danger when I see it.”
As she ducked her head to climb in, her skirts stretched lovingly across her full hips. Lust that had been simmering all day rose hard and fast. Curling his fingers into fists to avoid the temptation to smack that ass, Luke gritted his teeth.
He wished he could say the same about himself.