Chapter Eleven
A soft wind moaned through the pines as Buck approached the cabin. He expected to see Harmony already busy with the sluice, but as his eyes scanned the area from a distance, he could not see her anywhere about the place. Had she decided to take a walk or go hunting this early in the morning?
“Harmony!” he called out.
There was no reply, and experience told him before he got any closer that something was wrong. There was an eerie silence in the air, and he drew his horse and pack mules to a halt when he saw her rifle lying outside on the ground, as though dropped or knocked over.
A tight feeling came to his chest. He’d never forgive himself if something had happened to her, and if some man had harmed her, he’d die!
“Harmony!” he called out again. Then he dismounted, tying Indian and the mules, and removing his rifle from its boot. His eyes scanned the area as he jumped across the creek that was now much narrower. It was nearly the end of August, and some creeks were completely dried up.
As he approached the steps to the cabin, a sickening dread overcame him. The door was covered with claw marks. He looked around again. There was no doubt in his mind that the marks had been made by a grizzly. A few fish skeletons lay about.
He charged up the steps and pushed against the door, but it was bolted shut. “What the hell!” he muttered. “Harmony!” he yelled. There was no reply. He pushed against the door again, but it would not give, so he ran down the steps and around to the side window. It was too high for him to see inside, but he noticed that it was broken and there were claw marks in the logs around it. “My God!” he groaned. Had the grizzly gotten inside? Surely the window wasn’t big enough. But a determined grizzly could do just about anything.
A lump came to his throat. Was she lying dead inside, mauled to death? What a terrible way for his Shortcake to die! He looked around for something to stand on, then grabbed a barrel, rolling it over under the window. He told himself to be careful—the bear could be inside—as he stood the barrel on end and climbed onto it, his nose curling at the smell of bear that still lingered on the logs of the cabin. He grasped the window sill and looked inside.
“Harmony!”
She sat shivering in a corner, her wet clothes and boots still on, her hands still clinging to the hammer and knife. She stared at him, and he could see by her eyes that she didn’t realize it was he. How many hours had she sat staring at this window, watching a furious grizzly trying to get inside to claw her to death? He could imagine her terror.
He set his rifle inside, then pulled himself up and scrambled through the window. “Harmony,” he said softly. “It’s all right, Shortcake. It’s me—Buck.”
Her breathing quickened as he came closer, and she raised the hammer, drawing back. He made a quick dive, grabbing the hand that held the hammer and wresting it from her, grasping the other wrist tightly at the same time and squeezing until she dropped the knife. When she began to scream and claw at him, he quickly pinned both arms behind her, holding her wrists with one hand and drawing her tightly against him with the other.
“Harmony, it’s just me—Buck. The bear is gone, Shortcake. He’s gone. He won’t hurt you now.” He stood, pulling her up with him but keeping a grip on her wrists until she was on her feet and he could grasp her arms firmly. Then he gave her a shake. “Come on, Shortcake. Don’t do this. Where’s my brave girl?” He shook her again. “Harmony, it’s okay.”
She blinked, looked around the room with a desperate stare. “The bear! The bear!” she yelled.
“He’s gone,” Buck repeated. “I just got here, Shortcake, with new supplies. And I’m damned glad I arrived when I did. It’s okay, Harmony. The bear is gone. And I’m here.”
She looked up at him then, meeting his blue eyes. She felt as though she were coming out of a trance. Buck! It was Buck! She broke into sobs of relief and loneliness, throwing her arms around his neck and clinging to him like a little girl. He gladly embraced her, relishing the feel of her body against his, grateful for the opportunity to hold this woman-child he so cherished.
“Don’t let him come back!” she wailed.
“I won’t let him hurt you, Shortcake. I’ll stay till I find out what he’s up to. He’ll probably come back, and I’ll be ready for him. I won’t leave till he’s taken care of, one way or another.”
“Buck, he’s so big! So awful! If you go after him, he’ll sneak up on you and kill you!”
“Don’t you worry about that.”
“Oh, Buck, I did everything wrong! I went to catch fish without my rifle, and I didn’t pay any attention—”
“Hush,” he told her, petting her hair. “Tell me about it later. Your clothes are wet and you’re shaking. You’ll be sick if you don’t get into something dry and get some rest. You must have been up all night.”
“I thought he’d never go away!”
She clung to him as he picked her up and set her on the bed. “You get this stuff off, and I want no arguments. Forget your damned modesty. You’re shaking, and you feel hot. If you don’t get pneumonia from this, you’ll be lucky.”
He pulled off her boots and threw them aside, then peeled off her long stockings, forcing himself not to look at her slender legs despite the desire he felt. Her health was all that mattered right now. He reached up and took a flannel gown from a hook beside the bed; then he helped her to stand. “Come on. Out of this stuff right now and into bed. I’ll clean up around here and make you something to eat. Then you sleep, as long as you need to.”
He unbuttoned her shirt.
She felt dizzy and confused. She wanted to stop him, but she was too weak and too glad that he had come. “Don’t look at me,” she heard herself saying.
“Jesus, Harmony, do you think I’d take advantage of you after I thought I’d find you mauled by a bear? What the hell do you take me for?”
It was strange. He’d been gone two months, yet they could pick up their friendship in a matter of seconds, as though he hadn’t even left. And even though her clothing was coming off, she wasn’t afraid. He slipped the warm, dry flannel gown over her head. It felt wonderful to be out of the wet clothes. The next thing she knew, he was pushing her into the feather mattress and covering her with quilts, saying something about heating some soup for her. She felt safe now, protected. Buck would take care of everything. And he’d kill the bear so it would never come after her again.
She snuggled down into the quilts. She could hear movement, but didn’t know what Buck was doing. She drifted into an exhausted sleep, and Buck stood and watched her for a while. He’d seen—only briefly, and unintentionally—enough to know she was everything he’d pictured and more. He almost felt guilty, as though she were just a little girl and he had no right to look at her with anything but a fatherly attitude. But he couldn’t be fatherly, and he wondered if he could go back this time without claiming Harmony Jones for himself, or if he could go back at all.
Now he had the bear to think about, and cleaning up; and most of all, he had to think about her health. She definitely had a fever. First things first. He’d keep her warm and rested, and pray she didn’t get too sick from this. He was not going to lose Harmony Jones—not to a bear or to sickness or to her damned independence. He’d not love and lose again as he had with Mary Beth.
He stepped closer, gazing down at her. How he’d missed her! Had she missed him? Surely she had. He bent down and lightly kissed a soft, babyish cheek. “I love you, Harmony,” he whispered. But she did not hear.
For the next several days Harmony lay abed, feverish, her throat aching, a cough racking her lungs. During the worst of her sickness she was not aware of Buck’s presence, did not see the concern and fear in his eyes, wasn’t embarrassed because he sometimes unbuttoned her gown and bathed her with a cool cloth, trying to keep the fever down.
Sometimes she would dream about the bear coming back, and she would wake up screaming. Then someone would hold her. Was it Brian? Was he saving her from the men on the pier? When she smelled the familiar scent of him, she knew it was Buck. She wasn’t in St. Louis. She was in a little cabin in the mountains, and Buck Hanner was holding her.
He fed her, he carried her to the outhouse, he bathed her, and sometimes he talked to her, telling her funny stories from his own past in order to make her forget about her sickness. Sometimes he rubbed a strong-smelling liniment on her chest and throat, his hands gentle, never rude, never touching places he should not touch.
Ten days passed before she began to feel normal. The fever had left her, as the dizziness had and her head was now clearing. She had a lingering cough, but she knew she was getting better. She awoke from what had seemed an odd dream. Had there actually been a bear? Had Buck really come? She sat up, her mind clearer than it had been since the grizzly had terrified her. She looked around the cabin. It was clean and tidy, and something that smelled very good was on the stove. Steam rose from the pot.
She put a hand to her head, wondering what she must look like, beginning to remember all of it—the bear, Buck’s arrival. She moved her hand to her flannel gown. He’d undressed her! He’d bathed her and nursed her, fed her, put liniment on her. Put liniment on her! Had he looked at her, touched her while she was so sick she didn’t know what he was doing?
He came in then, glancing at her with his blue eyes, sandy hair dangling over his forehead, his smile bright and warm. No. She had not been that far gone. She’d know it if he’d been rude to her, taken advantage of her. It was an odd feeling, to look at a man who had actually seen her, touched her, doctored her, yet to think of him only as a friend. That was still all she really wanted him to be, wasn’t it? But the look in his own eyes revealed much more than friendship. Had he really whispered once or twice that he loved her, or was that just a dream?
“Well, Shortcake, you look brighter this morning. You feeling better?”
“I feel much better. I feel almost normal.”
He set down some wood. “Good. But that doesn’t mean you can jump right up. You stay in that bed two or three more days, no matter how good you feel. I want no relapses. You scared the hell out of me. I thought I was going to lose you for a while.”
He walked over and stirred the soup. She watched him, lean and hard, a man most women would probably consider perfectly formed. “Would you really have cared, Buck? If I died, I mean.”
He turned to her, a frown on his face. “Of course I’d have cared. I love you.”
She reddened, pulling the quilts up closer around her neck. “Don’t say that. You’re just saying it to—I mean, don’t say it, unless you mean you love me like a friend…or a daughter…a sister, maybe. I guess I love you too…in a way. Having you around is like…like having a big brother.”
He snickered. “A big brother!” He shook his head and stirred the soup again. “I’m not sure whether I should be grateful for that comment or insulted by it.” As he turned to her, he put his hands on his hips, his broad shoulders and masculine stance evoking feelings in her that she did not like. “Well, I don’t love you like a daughter or a sister or even a friend, although we most certainly are friends. I love you, Harmony Jones, like a woman I want to have for myself, like a man loves a wife. Now maybe you don’t like the sound of that, but that’s the way it is and I’ll be damned if I’m going to hide it anymore. But I’ll not push you. Whatever happens between us is up to you, Shortcake. In the meantime we will go on as we always have. I’ve brought you your supplies, and as soon as you’re well and capable of taking care of yourself again, I’ll be heading back. I’ll return midwinter, if I can get up here.”
She sighed, lying back on the pillow. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Buck, because I don’t love you that way. But I hope you’ll believe me when I tell you how grateful I am that you came, and that I truly appreciate your taking care of me the way you did. It feels funny, having a man who’s half a stranger taking care of me. But I don’t know what I’d have done without you, so I guess I can’t argue about that. I might have died if you hadn’t come. I realize that.” She turned on her side to look at him. “But that doesn’t give you any more rights with me than you had before. You’re still just my guide—and a friend.”
He smiled and shook his head, stirring the soup. He wondered if she had any idea of what it meant to truly love a man—to truly love anyone. She’d been without love so long, she didn’t even understand it. He wanted to hit her for hurting him with her words, yet he realized she didn’t even know what they were doing to him. She had no understanding of passion, no awareness of the deep love he held for her, the reverence. She didn’t comprehend his need to provide for her and protect her. Yet he must not crawl to her. He must simply and boldly state his feelings, leaving the rest up to her. If he pushed her, it would only take him that much longer to break her down, for she’d throw up those barriers again and shut him out completely. He’d wait. The time would come when she’d want him, when she’d get frustrated over the fact that he made no moves toward her. Yes, he would wait.
Three days later Harmony was panning again, but she had strict orders not to work more than three or four hours. Buck began a search for the grizzly, for he suspected it was still in the area and would probably come back. He wouldn’t feel right going back until he’d taken care of that bear. He didn’t want a repeat of Harmony’s last experience with the animal. Her condition when he’d found her, and her ensuing sickness, had been harder on him than Harmony realized. If only she knew how much he loved her. If only she knew he’d prayed for her, even wept once when he was sure she wouldn’t make it. But it would do no good to tell her those things. She’d probably think he was making them up. In spite of all he’d told her about himself so she would learn that they were very much alike, he hadn’t gotten through to her. She was still stubborn and independent, still determined to work her claim and be her own woman, still convinced she wanted no man sexually, wanted nothing to do with marriage or anything that involved trust and dependency. The only way he could bear being around her and not having her was to go off on these hunts, to pass the time keeping as busy as possible.
For the fifth day in a row he sat quietly at the mouth of the creek, where Harmony told him she’d first seen the bear. The waters were heavy with trout. The grizzly would come back, he was certain of that. He kept his rifle loaded and cocked, waiting. Later that morning, his perseverance and patience finally paid off. His daydreams of Harmony were interrupted by a loud splashing that came to his ears above the roar of the foaming waters. He heard a grunting sound.
Immediately all his instincts were alert. For a moment he crouched behind the huge boulder on which he’d been sitting, out of sight of the rushing waters. Then he crept around the rock to see a huge grizzly slapping at the water, catching fish in its great paws and chomping on them eagerly. Buck shivered at the size of the bear. No wonder her night of terror had nearly made Harmony lose her mind. How the cabin door had held back such a monster he could not imagine. Perhaps the animal hadn’t realized that if he pushed against it he could have bashed it open. Thank God all he’d done was claw at it. And thank God he’d been too big to get through the window. If he had gotten to Harmony…
Buck crouched on one knee and raised the rifle. This monster would not go down with one bullet, that was certain. He’d have to hit it two or three times before it would give up, and he’d better make the shots count, get them in the right places. Nothing on earth was more vicious than a wounded grizzly, and this one was vicious enough as it was. He took quiet aim, his heart pounding, beads of sweat on his forehead. Then he squeezed the trigger. The gun went off and the bear roared and fell backward. Buck had aimed for the head, but he couldn’t be certain he’d hit what he’d aimed for. Nonetheless, he’d hit the huge creature.
He cocked the rifle and aimed again, as the bear rolled onto its four paws, roaring and groaning. He fired, this time hitting it in the side of the head. Again the bear howled and fell. It lay panting and clawing at the ground. Buck walked toward it. If he could get two or three more shots into the head while it was temporarily stunned, he’d have it.
At the cabin Harmony jumped at the sounds of rifle fire. “Buck!” she whispered. Despite the distance, she could hear the bear’s horrible roar. There was no mistaking the sound. It seemed to echo over the mountainside. Her night of terror returned. She could see the huge claws, the white fangs; hear the horrible growling, smell the putrid stench. “Buck!” she whimpered. She could not believe anyone or anything could kill such a monster. Was it attacking Buck right now, mauling him, murdering him, chewing him up like a huge fish? Would it come for her?
There had been two shots. Now three more were fired, and her heart pounded. Was it chasing him? Perhaps he had missed and only angered the bear. She could hear more growling and roaring. Another shot. Her breathing quickened, and she ran for the steps, picking up her own rifle. She climbed up the stairs, intending to go inside the cabin for protection. Buck had nailed split logs over the window opening, so there was no longer a window for the bear to get through. But now, when the door was closed, the cabin was almost completely dark. A lamp had to be lit during the day, or the door had to be left open for light. Still, she would rather have it that way. She felt safer.
She considered going to Buck. He might need her. Perhaps he was bleeding to death. She waited for what seemed an eternity. The growling had stopped. Was it because the bear was busily eating Buck Hanner?
Then he appeared, walking up the path, carrying his rifle. He looked up at her, a grin on his face. “How about some bear meat tonight?” he called out. “It’s pretty good. ’Course he’s an old, tough one, so I can’t guarantee the flavor.”
“Buck!” She set her rifle aside and ran to him, hugging him tightly, surprising him by her obvious concern. He eagerly embraced her, wondering if he could hope that perhaps she was beginning to love him the way a woman should love a man.
“Well! Remind me to go shoot a grizzly every day if I get this for it.”
“Oh, Buck, don’t joke!” she wailed. “I was afraid for you! I was going to come down and see if you needed help! I thought the bear had attacked you and was eating you!”
He laughed lightly, patting her shoulder. “Bears often kill people in anger or what they think is self-defense, Shortcake. But they don’t eat them! They’d rather have fish or berries.” He gave her a squeeze. “Your worries about that ornery bastard are over. I’m going to gut him and bring back some of the meat. Tonight we’ll celebrate. We’ll roast some bear meat and we’ll have the ultimate celebration of the conquerors—we’ll eat the enemy!” He laughed, and with his arm around her, he walked toward the cabin. “Maybe we’ll even break out a little whiskey. If you’re going to work like a man and live like a man and be independent like one, you’ve got to learn to drink like a man, Harmony Jones. Tonight you will share some whiskey with me.”
She frowned, feeling suspicious again. She stopped walking. “You know I don’t like whiskey,” she declared.
He pushed back his hat. “Listen, Harmony Jones. Do you know what it took for me to stalk and shoot that damned thing? It isn’t exactly something I’d like to do every day. I’ve been through hell for you since I got back up here, and most likely I’ve saved your life. Can’t you even share one drink with this good friend who nursed you, taught you everything you know, and killed a grizzly for you? What do I have to do to get one ounce of fun and laughter and relaxed friendship out of you?”
She studied his unnerving blue eyes. “All right. I guess I owe you a celebration. You deserve it. But don’t expect me to drink as much as you probably can.”
He gave her a wink. “Just one,” he replied, going inside to find a bigger knife than the one he carried on his belt.
Harmony shrugged and went back to the sluice, a little apprehensive, for she knew what whiskey sometimes did to men. She remembered smelling it on Jimmie’s breath the night he’d attacked her. But that was Jimmie, not Buck Hanner. Buck would not hurt her.
Never in her whole life had Harmony Jones felt so gloriously happy. The first drink of whiskey had gone down hard, but moments later she’d felt a marvelous warmth, and everything Buck had said seemed funny. She felt delightfully free and relaxed, and she was sure she could do anything. She had survived up here for over two months. She would survive the winter. She took another drink, for she loved the way it made her feel. She had had no idea it could do this to a person, remove the fear and gloom that shadowed her life.
She stuffed herself with bear meat, then drank more, laughing meanwhile at Buck’s stories. She was oblivious to the fact that he, too, was feeling his whiskey, that he was looking at her with a painful longing, listening to her laughter, wanting her as he’d never wanted her before. Her hair was unbraided, and hung loose and flowing over her shoulders. She had put on a dress, announcing that if they were going to “wine and dine” she should dress for it.
Harmony paid no attention to the fact that he moved closer, and when he told more stories his arm was around her shoulders. They sat outside, roasting the bear meat over an open fire. It was a pretty night, quiet and silky, with a million stars overhead. For two hours they had sat, drinking and eating until Harmony felt giddy and dizzy. Her head often lolled against Buck’s shoulder, and he wrestled with his conscience. He’d never gotten her drunk. Perhaps he should have tried this a long time ago. In his own condition, his protective instincts were not operative. The whiskey only heightened his desire for her, removing all thought of what was right and wrong, awakening only his burning need to have her.
“Oh, Buck, I’m so glad that bear didn’t get you,” she was saying. “I was so afraid for you.”
She looked up at him. How handsome he was in the moonlight! In the next moment his lips were covering hers, and for some strange reason she did not want to stop him this time. The kiss tasted good. She was happy…and she was curious. All the womanly things he had awakened in her were brought to the surface by the whiskey. She was on the brink of changing from a girl to a woman. Her feelings were awakened, and her eager young soul yearned to discover man. Hadn’t Buck promised it could be good? Surely it wasn’t always the way it had been with that terrible Jimmie! She felt silly and daring. Was it the whiskey? She couldn’t think straight. She returned his kiss with newly awakened passion, wanting suddenly to see if she could be a woman, feeling almost challenged to prove she was not a little girl.
Yet down inside her a voice tried to warn her that this was wrong. Her deep-seated fears reasoned that this man was only taking advantage of her, that he would desert her like everyone else she had ever cared about. He was breaking her down!
“No,” she mumbled the word between passionate kisses. She meant it, yet she could not seem to make herself push him away. She wanted to fight him, but his tongue moved in the most enticing way between her lips. What was this he was doing? Why did it make her feel so weak? She tried to pull away, but his mouth would not leave hers, and a gentle hand moved from her waist to one of her breasts, gently squeezing and massaging it. Fire swept through her blood. That wasn’t the way Jimmie had touched her. It didn’t repulse her at all. It only made her breathing quicken, her heart pound furiously! What had he done to her? What was this magic? Was it his touch, or just the whiskey—or both?
“Buck, please don’t,” she whispered, as his lips moved to her throat. Yet the words sounded pitifully weak.
“Why not?” he answered, his voice husky with desire. “I love you, Harmony. I’ve never loved anybody so much in my life. And I want you. God, I want you, Harmony!”
“No. Don’t say that.”
But he was already picking her up and carrying her toward the cabin. She rested her head on his shoulder, her arms about his neck. Somewhere deep in the recesses of her mind she knew what he intended to do, yet the womanly curiosity he had aroused would not permit her to fight him.
They were inside the cabin then, and he was kicking the door shut. She felt herself being laid on the bed. Her head swam. She wished she could think straight. He lit the lantern, keeping the flame low. Then he came and stood near her, unbuttoning his shirt. Why did she watch? Why did she want to see him? Why was she doing any of this?
“I want you, Harmony, and I’m going to have you,” he told her, removing his shirt. “There will be no more arguing about it. You need a man, and I’m it. I’m the only man who’s ever going to touch you.”
He threw down the shirt and loosened his gun belt, then his belt. He removed both, then his boots. He unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off, then he removed his long Johns. She felt giddy and afraid and curious, passionate yet childish and confused. He stood in front of her for a moment, and she drank in the glorious man who was Buck Hanner. She had thought a man would look ugly. But he looked beautiful, like a finely bred stallion.
He sat down on the bed beside her, then leaned over her. “Now you’ve seen man, and soon you’ll experience man,” he told her. His lips came down over her mouth again, and an almost painful desire swept through her. She heard someone whimpering. Was it her own voice? Was it she who was returning his kiss with such hunger and such a sudden rush of curious passion?
Gentle! So gentle he was! She knew her clothing was coming off, yet it seemed that it was happening by magic. Buck! This was Buck, her friend, her guide, her protector. He was so sweet and kind, always so patient. And he had said he loved her, hadn’t he? How long did she think she could go on without once being a woman? And was there a nicer man to show her than Buck? He wouldn’t hurt her, not Buck. Gentle hands massaged her virgin breasts, and she could not help crying out when his tongue toyed with nipples that had never before greeted man. Then his fingers moved over her bare hips, caressing her slender thighs, moving between them. Why couldn’t she stop him? Why didn’t she want to stop him?
He tasted her sweet, full breasts, groaning with hunger, while his fingers worked their way into the silken, moist softness that lay in that secret place never before touched by a man. She cried out his name, fanning the fire of his passion. Harmony! This was Harmony, not some two-bit whore! This was Harmony Jones, the beautiful little girl that he loved beyond all reasoning. How long he had dreamed of having her. Was this really happening, or was he still dreaming? If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.
His breathing was quick, his body heated, his nerve endings were on fire. He moved his lips down over her flat belly, lightly kissing the golden hairs that surrounded the most womanly part of her. When he explored it with his fingers, she cried out and arched upward, and he knew she was responding passionately for the first time—and she was ready for him.
He moved on top of her, smothering her with kisses, kissing her mouth, her eyes, her cheeks, her throat, her shoulders, her breasts, and then returning to her mouth; priming her, building her desire so his first thrust would not be too painful. He was glad she was full of whiskey. It wouldn’t hurt as much that way. He did not want to hurt this small woman he loved so, yet he must. She even wanted him to do it.
He smoothed the hair back from her face. “Harmony, my Harmony. I love you so much,” he whispered.
“Buck, I don’t know what’s happening. I…it feels so good.”
“Of course it feels good. You’re just enjoying a man, that’s all—the man you love, whether you know it yet or not.” He moved on top of her, pushing her legs apart with his own knees.
“Don’t hurt me!” she whimpered, fear now showing in her eyes.
“Hey, Shortcake, this is Buck, remember? Have I ever hurt you?”
Their eyes held. “I shouldn’t be…doing this. I don’t know what happened.”
He held her with his hypnotic eyes—beautiful eyes, too beautiful to belong to a man. “Do you want me to stop?”
As he pressed his hardness against her belly, she swallowed, torn between fear and terrible desire. “No,” she whispered.
His mouth met hers again, tenderly, so tenderly. Then he moved slightly, and pain suddenly shot through her loins. She cried out and dug her fingers into the hard muscle of his arms. There was no stopping it now.
“Hang on, baby,” he whispered. He moaned with the want of her, the glory of taking her—finally. He thrust deep, even though he hadn’t meant to. Now there were tears in her eyes, yet she didn’t seem afraid. Determined was more like it. She wanted this. She finally wanted it, and she was determined to do it right, just as she had been about everything else.
He reached under her hips and pushed her up to him, moving gently in her to ease her pain. In moments it was over, but Buck’s ecstasy was not. He moved off her, his body sweating, his breathing hard, his heart gloriously satisfied. He ran a big hand over her belly.
“Did it hurt bad, Shortcake?” he asked, kissing her neck.
“Not so bad. I…I don’t know. I can’t tell. I feel so…dizzy…so strange.”
“It’s just the whiskey. It’s better this way—less pain. I just hope I didn’t do any damage.”
She met his eyes, reaching up and touching his handsome, tanned face. “I want to do it again,” she told him, her blood still hot with whiskey and newly awakened desire. “Can we do it again?”
He grinned. “Again and again. All night long. I’ll never be able to get enough of you.” His lips covered hers then, and passion swept through her.
“Oh, Buck, I think I love you,” she whispered.
“And I love you—every inch of you,” he answered, his lips moving to her breasts again. “By morning I’ll have seen every inch of you, tasted every part of you. You’ll belong to Buck Hanner body and soul.”
Buck awoke to cold water on his face. He jerked away, sat up slightly, and shook his head, which screamed with a hangover. Then he opened his eyes to see Harmony sitting nearby on a log, her rifle pointed right at him, her cheeks stained with tears.
“What the hell?” he muttered.
“You get out of here, Buck Hanner!” she ordered, her voice shaking. “I hate you! I’ll hate you the rest of my life for what you did!”
He sat up straighter. “What I did? What the hell are you talking about?”
Her lips quivered and more tears spilled down her cheeks. “You know what I’m talking about! You took advantage of me! You got me drunk on purpose, then raped me!”
His eyes narrowed with anger and disappointment. “Raped you!” He threw back the covers, not caring that he was naked. “I made love to you, Harmony Jones, because I’m in love with you! And you wanted it! Don’t deny it! So what if I used a little whiskey to make you see the light!”
She sucked in her breath, backing away. “See the light! You…you bastard! Get your clothes on and get out of here! You don’t love me! You just wanted to get me into bed! That’s all you’ve ever wanted! How much did you bet this time, Buck Hanner! How much will you win when you go back to town and announce that you conquered Harmony Jones?”
He frowned, telling himself to calm down, to move carefully. He pulled on his long johns, then sat down on the edge of the bed. “Do you really believe that? Do you think I’d make bets on a thing like that, or that I planned to make love to you when I got up here?”
“Yes!” she retorted. She rubbed at her belly and he watched her with concern.
“I hurt you.”
“Yes, you hurt me!” she whimpered, her face red with anger and embarrassment. “I hope you’re satisfied.”
He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Harmony, it always hurts at first, but then the hurt goes away.” He met her eyes. “It goes away, Harmony, and after that it’s all pleasure. Don’t do this, honey. I love you.”
“I don’t want your love! I just want you to go away! I know all about love! You love people, and then they leave you! I loved my parents, and they left me on the docks. Two men came, drunk like you were last night! They were going to do to me what you did to me, when I was only six! That’s all men think about! That’s all they care about! If not for Brian…” She sucked in a sob. “And then Jimmie…he got drunk and tried it too. The only thing different this time is I was drunk along with you! Why did you do that? Why did you make me drink that whiskey? I didn’t want that to happen! I want you to go now! I’ll not love any man or be dependent on one. Do you hear? I came up here to pan for gold and to get rich. I’ll never, never trust or love anybody again, least of all a drifter like you who tricks a girl into his bed—a girl who’s never drunk whiskey before, never been with a man before!”
He just watched her. She was so mixed up. He hated her damned parents, hated Jimmie, hated the men on the docks who had scared her to death so early in life, hated Brian O’Toole for leaving her.
He stood up and began to dress. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Harmony, but put down the damned rifle. I’d never deliberately hurt you and you know it. Even in my drunken state last night, I’d have stopped if you’d asked me to. But you didn’t. And I’ll tell you one thing: whiskey makes most people tell the truth and follow their desires. You wanted me, and I think you still do. You told me last night you loved me.”
“Well, I didn’t mean it!” she retorted angrily. “And I’ll never forgive you for making me drink, for getting me all mixed up like that. You did it on purpose, Buck Hanner! You know you did!”
He finished dressing, saying nothing. When he put on his hat, he turned to look at her. Then he walked straight up to her, yanking the rifle from her hands and throwing it on the bed. He knelt in front of her.
“I’m damned sorry, Harmony. Does it hurt bad?”
She reddened deeply. “Just go away.”
“I don’t think you really want me to go. But I’ll go, because that’s the only way you’re going to realize you need me…and love me. And I love you, no matter what you say or do. Last night was the most beautiful experience I’ve ever shared with a girl. It didn’t happen just because of a challenge. It happened because I love you, Harmony Jones, and someday it will happen again, many times over, because someday you’re going to be my wife, when you think you’re woman enough for it.”
He rose and walked to the door. He could only convince her that she loved and needed him by leaving her. It was the last thing he wanted to do now, but to stay would make her angrier. He wanted to hit her, yell at her, say things that would just make her hate him more; but he loved her too much to do any of these things. He hadn’t really intended for it to happen last night, but he was glad it had. She’d sure as hell have something to think about now, and he’d finally made sure he was Harmony Jones’s first man. It felt strange to bed a woman and still be challenged to win her over. If it weren’t so painful it would be almost humorous. Harmony Jones was truly the most stubborn person he’d ever met. He turned to her. She still sat pouting.
“A hot bath helps,” he told her. “After I leave, heat some water and soak yourself.” He waited for her to look at him, but she didn’t. So he sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Shortcake. But I’m not sorry for making love to you in the first place. I love and respect you more now than I ever did, and there’s one thing you can’t change. I’ve laid my claim on you. You’re Buck Hanner’s woman now, not just little Harmony Jones. And you wanted me. I don’t give a damn how much you deny it this morning. You wanted me and you love me. You’ll realize that once I’m gone.”
He walked out and closed the door.
The cabin was dark, and tears welled in her eyes. She wanted to call him back, wanted to run to him, wanted him to hold her. What stopped her? Was she that afraid of trusting someone? Of course she loved him. But her mouth would not open, and her legs would not move. Moments later she heard the sound of hooves striking the hard earth. He was leaving, taking the pack mules.
“Buck!” she whimpered. “Don’t leave me.”