Wilde, Jennifer (36 page)

The
sun was directly overhead as we neared the top of the mountain. I was
exhausted, my white blouse damp with perspiration and clinging to my bosom, my
brown skirt limp and dusty. I had caught my hair on a low-hanging branch
earlier on, and I knew my auburn tresses must resemble those of a witch. We
moved on up through the dense maze of pines, trunks a grayish brown, needles a
vivid green, each branch studded with rich brown cones. The reddish earth was
strewn with dry needles and spread with soft blue shadows, a few brilliant
yellow-white rays of sunlight slanting through the branches. Birds called. The
scent of pines was glorious.

"How
much further?" I called.

"Just
a little ways," Jeff retorted. "We should reach the top in fifteen
minutes or so. From there on it's easy going."

"I
believe
that,"
I said ruefully.

"You
complaining again? I thought I broke you of that."

"Jenny
keeps stumbling. She's exhausted, too."

"We'll
take a rest once we reach level ground."

The
top of the mountain was amazingly flat. The land seemed to stretch straight
ahead to the distant horizon, and Jeff explained that we would be traveling
along the crest of a small range of mountains for the next two or three days.
True to his word, he dismounted and then, taking my hand, helped me dismount. I
was so weary I almost fell. He clutched me to him, grinning, and then he gave
me a hearty kiss. His buckskins were slightly damp, too, and his hair was wet
with perspiration, making it an even darker gold. I clung to him a moment,
savoring his strength, and then he pushed me gently away.

"Time
for that kinda thing when we stop for the night," he teased.

"I
wasn't even—"

"Wasn't
cravin' my body?" he interrupted.

"Not
in the least. You're filthy and sweaty and smell like—"

"You
ain't a bloomin' rose, yourself."

"I
don't imagine I am. I haven't had a bath since we left the inn, and these
clothes—"

"There's
a dandy little stream a few miles up ahead, runs right over a bunch of boulders
and makes a small waterfall. We'll stop there. Maybe we'll bathe
together."

"I
thought we'd never reach the top," I said wearily.

"Yeah,
it was pretty rugged. You're holdin' up well."

"Think
so?"

He
nodded, his warm brown eyes merry. "I'm beginnin' to admire you so much
I'm thinkin' I ain't gonna be able to give you up. I'm gettin' used to havin'
you around, gettin' to like it."

I
made a face and went to stretch out under the shade of a tree. Jeff tethered
the three mules under yet another tree, and then he came to flop down on the
ground beside me, stretching his legs out and cradling his arms behind his head.
The trees were much less dense here, and we could see great patches of sky as
pale and lovely as pale-blue silk. I closed my eyes, relaxed, content to be
here, content to have him beside me, warm, friendly, comforting. I thought of
what he had said about not being able to give me up, and I wondered if he had
been serious.

I
didn't love him. I never would, never could, not after Derek, but I realized
that I
liked
Jeff Rawlins in a way I had never been able to like Derek.
I had never been able to chat with Derek, to be completely natural and at ease
with him as I was with Jeff. Jeff was a playful scamp who loved to tease me,
loved to argue, yet this made him none the less virile, a manly man who was a
superb lover. It would be so much easier to be in love with him than it had
been to be in love with Derek. Eyes closed, body weary, I forced the thought of
Derek out of my mind, struggling to contain all those bitter, painful emotions
that threatened to surface again.

I
must have fallen asleep, for the next thing I knew, I was struggling up through
heavy blue-black clouds, moaning as something soft and fuzzy tickled my nose. I
opened my eyes to see Jeff's face inches from my own, his brown eyes dancing
with amusement, his wide pink mouth stretching into that familiar grin as he
ran the fuzzy leaf across my nose one more time. I slapped at it irritably,
frowning at him. Jeff tossed the leaf aside and lowered his mouth over mine and
turned his head to one side in order to make our noses fit. Against my will, I
lifted my arms and ran my palms over his broad back, rubbing the rough buckskin
and feeling the muscles beneath as he continued to kiss me, lazily, thoroughly.

He
raised his head and peered into my eyes. His own were filled with affection.

"Figured
it was time we got a move on," he said in that lovely, softly slurred
voice.

"I've
been asleep."

"Darn
near half an hour you've been sleepin'. I just let ya. Ya know what?"

"What?
I asked.

"Your
face is dirty. There's a streak of dirt right there." He touched my jaw.
"Your hair's all tangled, too, and your clothes are a mess. And ya know
what? You ain't never been more appetizin'."

"Is
that a fact?"

He
climbed to his feet and peered down at me, shaking his head. "It's a fact.
If I didn't have such a strong will—"

I
sat up, brushing pine needles from my hair. "Yes?"

"If
I didn't have such a strong will, we'd
never
get to Natchez."

Reaching
down, he took hold of my wrist and pulled me to my feet. I was still a bit
groggy, and I still felt a warm, comfortable glow from that prolonged kiss. He
held me cradled against him for a moment, smiling a lazy, satisfied smile. Jeff
was still feeling a glow, too. When his thighs touched mine, I felt tangible
proof of it as he pressed against me.

"Damned
if you ain't bewitchin'! I'm gonna have ta watch you, wench, I'm gonna have ta
be strong and purposeful. A man could dally with you all day and never get
nothin' done."

"You
want to dally?"

He
chuckled and whacked me lustily on the backside, giving me a shove toward the
mules.

"Get
on with you! I'm onto your tricks, wench. We got a long trek ahead of us 'fore
we reach that waterfall I was tellin' you about, and you ain't gonna trick me
into wastin' no more time."

I
felt good as we continued on our way. I enjoyed his teasing, enjoyed his peculiar,
roughhewn gallantry. He
was
strong, and he was purposeful, too, yet he
had let me sleep for a full half-hour. He was considerate, and... and he was
strangely tender. Robust and lusty, yes, but there was tenderness, too, the
kind of tenderness Derek Hawke had never once displayed. Jeff Rawlins claimed
to equate a woman with a good meal and a fine glass of whiskey, something to be
enjoyed but never taken seriously, yet... that kiss had been so very tender,
expressing an emotion he probably wasn't even aware of himself. I wondered if
he could possibly be falling in love with me.

I
was imagining things, I told myself. Surely. He had gone for thirty-two years
without falling in love, and he wasn't fool enough to let himself fall in love
now, not with an indentured wench he planned to sell to a whorehouse as soon as
we reached New Orleans. He... he was just naturally affectionate, and that
warmth, that tenderness meant nothing. He would turn me over to the madam and
walk away and never give me another thought. I was nothing more than a piece of
merchandise to him. He enjoyed me, yes, just as he must have enjoyed a number
of other women he had transported over this same trail, for the same purpose.
He might joke about not being able to give me up, but he would give me up soon
enough when enough pieces of gold changed hands.

We
were riding along a ridge now, the trail narrow, pine trees dense on our right.
On our left the land sloped down steeply to a valley far below. I could see
more mountains across the valley, tops a hazy purple in the distance, more like
soft violet, looming up against the pale-blue sky. The valley was a patchwork
of greens, tans, and brown, shot through with the silver sparkle of a stream. A
large brown bird swirled lazily in the air, gradually circling down to the
valley. Jeff told me it was an eagle. We stopped once to watch two furry black
bear cubs gamboling down the side of the slope, an enormous black mother bear
moving ponderously behind them.

"I
didn't know there were
bears,"
I said.

"Lots
of 'em," he replied. "Don't worry. They won't bother you if you don't
bother them."

"Those
cubs are so adorable. Look, they seem to be skipping, and then they'll curl up
and roll. The mother bear looks so patient—"

"She'd
tear you to shreds if you so much as touched one of her young 'uns. Riled up, a
bear can be deadly. Claws like steel. Wouldn't want to tangle with one
myself."

The
bears disappeared from sight, and we moved on. A short while later the trail
turned sharply to our left, into the forest, and we left the ridge behind. We
might be on top of the mountain, but the ground was as level, the forest as
dense as it had been before. Although there were still many pines, most of the
trees had large, leafy limbs. Jeff named half a dozen kinds for me, none of
which I had ever heard of before. How different this forest was from the
forests in England, so much wilder, so much larger. Would anyone ever be able
to tame all this wilderness? I doubted it, despite what Jeff said to the
contrary. There were far too many civilized places for people to settle in for
anyone to waste time and effort trying to live amidst all this rugged splendor.

It
was still early, perhaps four o'clock, when we reached the clearing where we
would spend the night. Situated beneath a small but exceedingly steep wall of
gray rock down which the waterfall cascaded, it was surrounded on three sides
by woods and intersected by the narrow stream, the bed golden brown and just
deep enough for wading. No more than fifteen feet high, the waterfall splashed
and splattered into a shallow pool, spraying thin mist. It was a lovely spot,
the ground grassy and soft, the trees making living green and brown walls.
Vines covered with pendant-shaped purple flowers climbed up the gray rock on
either side of the waterfall.

Jeff
and I dismounted. He removed the packs from the mules and, after drinking from
the stream, they began to graze under the shade of the trees. I stood near the
waterfall, watching the sunlight play in the mist and causing rainbow-hued
patterns to shimmer. Jeff came up to stand behind me, resting his hands on my
shoulders.

"Like
it?"

"It's
a charming place," I replied.

"Ready
for a bath?"

"I'd
rather eat first. I'm hungry."

"There're
a lot of wild turkeys 'round here. Heard one gobbling just a minute ago. I'll
go shoot us one in a little while. I'm thinkin' I'd like to cool off
first—"

"Go
right ahead," I told him.

Suddenly
I felt his hands on my shoulder blades. He gave me a mighty shove. I cried out,
stumbling, and a second later I found myself splashing into the pool directly
beneath the waterfall. I was soaked immediately, of course, and when I tried to
stand up the waterfall knocked me back down. He stood a few feet away, laughing
uproariously. I was not at all amused. Finally getting to my feet, I stepped
out from under the waterfall. Skirt and blouse clung wetly, and my hair was
plastered to my skull in wet strands. I took off my shoes and tossed them onto
the grass, staring at him with an expression that should have killed.

"That
wasn't funny!"

"You
look like a drowned rat."

I
held
my hand out. "Here, help me out—"

And
when he took hold of my hand I gave a mighty tug and his eyes widened in
surprise and he came crashing into the water on all fours. Now it was my turn
to laugh. Jeff spluttered and coughed and then wrapped his arms around my knees
and toppled me back down into the water and, like two children, we wrestled and
splashed each other. Then we were standing directly under the waterfall and he
was kissing me, kissing me furiously, and we both fell down into the pool and
the water pelted us as his lips continued to cover my own. He released me and
laughed again and clambered out of the water to dig a bar of soap out of one of
the packs. He tossed it to me, then kicked off his soggy moccasins and pulled
off his wet buckskin tunic and began to wriggle out of the clinging breeches.

Naked,
he lunged into the water again, knocking me over on my back, and I struggled
furiously as he undressed me, slinging the wet clothes onto the grass. The bar
of soap was bobbing around in the pool. Jeff grabbed it and handed it back to
me and ordered me to wash him, and I did. Delighted, standing up in the pool,
covered with suds, he washed me in turn, and pulled me into the waterfall again
so that the suds was rinsed off both of us. He kissed me once again, and once
again we lost our footing and went tumbling into the pool. Wrapping one arm
around my throat, he ducked me under the water, roaring with laughter when I
came up spluttering and coughing. I dug my elbow into his ribs, sending him
crashing backwards, and he caught hold of my foot and pulled me down beside
him.

We
spent another ten minutes in wildly abandoned frolic, and then he pulled me out
of the water and shoved me down on the soft grass.