Chapter One

Missouri 1836

Still Water Runs Deep watched the wagon train move with lazy speed along the rutted-out road. They’d been on the trail five days now. The train of wagons was over fifty miles west of Independence where they began the long journey to a new life. For the benefit of the people he scouted for, he was called Stephen Wilkes. That was the name he would go by until he reached Lakota territory. He breathed in the clean prairie scented air, eager to reach Fort Laramie where he would head north into more rugged country. This would be his last trip to the lands of his people. With the help of the Earl of Blackmore, he bought property in England, land that adjoined the earl’s holdings. While he was eager to see his mother, he was also excited to begin his new life.

Wiping sweat from his forehead, he thought of Chauncey. Thought of the kiss they shared behind the church the day his friend, the Earl of Blackmore, wed Lyssa Andrews for the third time. This one was their second kiss. Chauncey didn’t know anything about kissing. Now, he was leaving her behind. While his friend the earl found love with a white woman, he doubted if the miracle would happen a second time. Lightning didn’t strike twice in the same place. Before he left, he told her to find someone else. She argued. He stood his ground. The notion gave him reason to smile. When he cupped her breast in his hand, roamed with leisure across the hardening tip with his thumb, she gasped then jerked back, her eyes so wide they reminded him of the blue saucers the earl used with his tea cups. She was untried, innocent in every way. He wanted her.

When he absconded with an intimacy he had no right taking, she ran her sweet tongue across her bottom lip. She didn’t understand the gesture was an invitation to him. The tip was an enticing pink color. He wanted to be the man to teach her how to kiss as well as how to please him. The timing was all shot to hell. Slow and measured, he’d brought his hand up to her chin. Holding it with his hand, he ran his thumb across the dewy softness he found there wishing he dared hope for more.

He didn’t.

He understood the differences in their way of life. She would never fit his expectations for a wife. She was everything he wasn’t. She was cultured. His life until he lived in England for several years was primitive as well as savage. She was pure white. He fought against the white settlers encroaching on land that didn’t belong to them. Killed some when he had to defend himself. Took more than one scalp.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” he told her regretting his decision for an instant. He wasn’t the man for her. If he stayed and courted her, she would eventually come to hate him. Still Water Runs Deep understood he needed to be harsh with her. “I’ll be back when I’m good and ready. Not a minute sooner. Don’t wait for me. Find a nice man who is white who lives in your way. Marry him. Have white children.”

“Where are you going?”

Her query was hesitant as well as curious. She touched his thumb with her tongue. She wasn’t listening to him. “I would go with you.”

After that she set her small white hand on his chest. The nails were clean, manicured. If she traveled with him that would change all too soon. The nails he looked at now would become ragged, dirt would settle in the nailbeds. Where he was traveling would not suit this delicate woman.

Unable to help himself he touched her lips with his once more. Wishing this wasn’t for the last time, he kissed her again, drawing her closer to him with his hand settled with possessiveness he didn’t wish to acknowledge on the small of her back then sliding the palm lower to cup her adorable backside. If he took her here behind the church, she would be willing. Her father would have his head as was his right. He reminded himself he was leaving. She would find someone more suitable. At the thought deep raw pain sluiced through him.

Her fingers shaking, she touched him, responded to his ill-advised advance, meeting his tongue with hers. Rising on the tips of her toes, she wound her small hands behind his neck. She wasn’t a short woman but she didn’t come to his chin. He needed to find a female who was sturdier.

Deep and low in the back of his throat, he groaned his voice hoarse. She drew back, looking at him, questions in her vibrant sapphire blue eyes. Eyes that were darkening with the rising passion he seemed to be generating in her.

Once again, he cupped her small breast in his hand, smoothed the hidden tip with his finger, wishing he dared move the tiny sleeves of her gown lower so he could see her breasts, touch as well as suckle. He wanted to discover the color of the tender buds that even now were responding to him, hardening more with each pass of his finger. One more time he needed to remind himself that if he did what he was thinking, he would ruin her for another man. He had no business here. Nothing good could come from this dalliance behind the church.

When he looked at her bosom then back to her eyes, she looked embarrassed. She cleared her throat before she spoke. “They are not very big, nothing like Lyssa’s. I would that I were larger…men like…”

He chuckled understanding what she spoke of. Lifting her chin, he kissed the tip of her nose, after that her forehead. Besotted with the woman, he couldn’t stop the grin. “A man doesn’t need more than a mouthful.”

“A mouthful?” She blinked a few times as if mulling over his statement. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

An innocent would never understand. She was so damn sweet, too tasty for the likes of him. “Yes. I’d like to taste you. Would you like that, Chauncey? Would you like my mouth to discover your flavor? What do you taste like? Your lips taste like mint along with the sweet red Bordeaux you drank a few minutes ago. They intoxicate me. What about the rest of you?” He fell silent watching the changing expressions on her lovely face.

“Intoxicate? The rest of me?”

Again, she blinked a few times before running one hand along his chest where she now stared.

Chuckling, he asked, “Are you a little parrot?”

He was enjoying himself the unsolicited pleasure immense. He’d never been with an innocent. Even in his formative years, the women who came to his bed were experienced.

Chauncey was delicious.

“Parrot?”

He laughed again while he ran his fingertip down her nose. He did want to kiss her again. They needed to return to the celebration before someone, her father, came to look for her. It was necessary for him to voice his thoughts. “Come along, little parrot, we need to get back to the festivity before anyone misses us.”

“No.” Her body tensing, she held her ground her lips formed into a thin line. Her chin tilted at an angle. He was beginning to understand that expression. “I want to know where you are going? Why are you leaving tomorrow?”

Leaning against the church, he tugged her back into his arms. Stephen spread his legs, cradling her next to his arousal, wondering if she felt how much he wanted her. He imagined it wouldn’t hurt to tell her what she asked. There was nothing she could do about it. “Lakota territory. This might be my last chance to see my mother. She grows older. Don’t know what I will find when I reach the home of my people. When Kane returns to England next summer, I’m hoping to be with him or close on his heels.”

Once more, her hands rested on his chest then higher to wind around his neck. She ran her slender fingers through his hair. “I’d like to go with you.” She stared at him as if the request was something he would agree to.

“No.” Lakota territory was no place for a white woman. “No, as I said before it’s too dangerous. You need to find a man to love. Someone who can return that sentiment with all his heart.”

He did need her to wait for him. Wished to pursue this relationship to see where it might lead. He would never ask or hope for her to wait for his return. She was of marriageable age.

She was white. He wasn’t full blooded Sioux, nor was he considered a half-breed as Kane was. There were hints of white man in his blood. He’d heard that his grandmother had been forced by a white man, a trapper. His lighter skin coupled with green eyes was the result. Both his parents were Sioux. Just as Kane was a breed, so was he. Stephen imagined that was why they’d become such friends. They understood the vulnerability. Neither were accepted completely in either world.

“I would be no trouble. I can ride and shoot. Know how to use a knife. Enjoy sleeping under the stars. My biscuits are almost as tasty as Amorica’s. You would never regret bringing me along with you. I would do whatever you told me.” Her plea seemed heartfelt as well as sincere.

While he wanted to laugh, he also needed to make her understand the seriousness of this mission of his. He didn’t even know how he’d be received at his destination. “A woman who doesn’t belong is always trouble.”

No, he amended to himself. All women were trouble. He didn’t understand them. He smoothed hair from her face letting the tips of his fingers travel along her cheek then down her throat to her throbbing pulse at the base of her neck. He needed to kiss her there, explore and sightsee all of her.

Chauncey bristled at his words. He saw determination in the set of her jaw as well as the simmer in her eyes. “I would go with you. I’m never trouble. You should understand I’m not like most women.”

No, Chauncey Lakeland was unique to herself. He should have never kissed her. “You barely know me…”

He rubbed the back of his neck. It was so true. They’d known each other for twenty-four hours. He felt an immediate connection with her he’d never known with another woman. He wondered if she could ride like Lyssa Andrews. He prayed then that she couldn’t. If she could not, he wouldn’t have to chastise her when she put her life in danger. “You would have to obey me. Jump when I said jump. I would never stand for a woman who would gainsay my orders and, in the process, put herself in danger.”

“Enough to know, I want to be with you.” She straightened her shoulders. “I would do everything you said.”

Somehow, he didn’t believe her words. Her entire life, he felt certain, she’d been pampered and allowed to do whatever she wished. Life could never be that way where he was headed. “Such a determined little thing,” he murmured, his words tender, staring at her stiff back as she walked away from him.

He didn’t know what she was going to do. Now, she turned and was walking back to him.

“You’re leaving in the morning?” she asked. “From Independence?”

“Yes, I’m the head scout for the wagon train. I’ve a job to do along the way. After that I’ll head my own way.”

Perhaps he told her too much. Bloody hell, she was a woman. She wouldn’t just up and leave her home, her family to follow him.

Would she?

No. Women did stupid things, foolish things when they took a notion into their woman’s brain. She was walking away from him again, her skirts swinging around her delicate ankles, her back stiff as if she was determined. He groaned again. He wanted to understand what she was thinking.

Those memories happened weeks ago. Now he was well past Independence. She didn’t follow him. Thank all the different Gods ever worshipped.

“Terrell,” Stephen nodded to the wagon master as he was jerked away from his musings and back to the present by the company of the other man.

He’d been lucky, he supposed. Chauncey stayed put as he told her to do. She would find a white man. She would marry then have children. It was all good. His memory would be like dust in the wind.

When he reached Independence there was no sign of her. He half expected to see her sitting on one of the wagons, guiding the oxen as well as horses down the long trail. He’d only met about half of the hundred or so people heading west on the Oregon Trail. She was not among them. Paranoid that she might have tracked him here, he’d scrutinized every woman he came across.

As a single woman she would never be allowed to be part of the wagon train. It just wasn’t done. Families had to look out for their own, wives needed to be certain there were no extra women to tempt their men. Chauncey was tenacious. If it was something she wanted badly enough, she would find a way to maneuver all obstacles out of the way to get what she wanted. He grimaced uncertain once more. Something quivered deep in the pit of his stomach. Looking at the expression on Terrell’s face, he felt certain trouble brewed.

“Stephen,” Johnathan said as he too watched the wagons lumber past them. “So far, no problems. Though we are less than a week out. What do you think of the people? Of the progress?”

Stephen leaned on his saddle horn as he studied the landscape below him. “No problems. Don’t expect too many. Unless the weather changes to something nasty. Of course, given enough time, it will. We’re making good headway.”

He wondered what question Terrell was asking him. His voice was vague yet imploring. There was something the man wasn’t explaining.

Terrell tipped his hat back, seeming to want to say something to him. Stephen saw the tension in the set of his jaw, the weariness in his eyes when he watched him. The man looked to the end of the slow-moving train then back to him.

“Spit it out, Terrell. What’s eatin’ at you? If there is something you want to say, say it. I’m not a man to play guessing games.” This was unusual for the wagon master. He spoke his mind with no hesitancy. The difference gave him pause.

The man stared at him hard, brought his hand up to swipe dusty hair from his forehead. He cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Just wonderin’ why you camp down with me. Doesn’t seem logical.”

Stephen shook his head, raising an eyebrow to the bright blue sky. How to answer the question slammed in his head. Caution before coming to an answer seemed appropriate. “Why do you ask?”

He needed to know what else was on the tip of this man’s tongue or in his mind that he wasn’t telling him. Wished to know what was behind the question.

“Well, you see, that’s just the thing,” he paused looking down the valley then along the length of the lumbering wagons. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Terrell?” Stephen never appreciated solving puzzles when the answer could be spoken with no coercion. That was what this was becoming, a puzzle. “Spit it out. If it’s something I’ve done wrong tell me. We’ll correct it.”

The man’s eyes darkened. “If I had a pretty little wife, riding solo in this long train with every male this side of the Mississippi gaping at her, wanting to make her his, I’d be spending my nights with her all cuddled up and warm keeping her away from prying eyes. Making certain everyone knew who she belonged to. Don’t understand what’s gotten into you leavin’ her all by herself.” He held up his hands, “I know it’s none of my business.”

Wife?

He was shocked to the bottom of his soul. Deep in his chest his heart thundered. He approached this statement from a different vantage point. His first reaction was to deny the existence of a wife. His second was to shake her so silly that she’d never defy him again. He told her to stay put, to find a husband and have kids. She told him she wanted to go with him. He told her to find a white man and marry him. Stubborn minx.

Ah hell…

He had no idea how to answer the man. They were now too far out from Independence for him to return her. He didn’t want her here. In danger. All he could do now was to acknowledge her then protect her with his life. His next instinct was to throttle her.

“Thought I should stay alert. If I cuddled up with my wife,” he choked on the word, wishing he dared do that very thing, “I might be otherwise engaged if you needed me.”

He thought that excuse to be a fine one. By the look on Terrell’s face, it wasn’t.

“You’re our scout. A damn good one. You would know if danger threatened us at night. You ride the trail every day. Think you should see to that little woman before some man believes she’s fair game. Every single man, young as well as attached, is talking about her, about her long legs and the curvaceous butt she shows in those britches she wears. If I were you, I’d insist she wear a dress. Get her out of men’s clothing would be first on my agenda. Go on now, go spell her for a while. I bet those skinny arms of hers are sore from all the driving she’s been doing. Don’t want her hands calloused.”

“Thank you, sir. Believe I’ll do just that.”

Stephen whipped his horse around then started down the hill toward the wagons. He was both eager as well as furious to see Chauncey. He wanted to yell at her then make love to her. The one he could do, the other he needed to keep in the back of his head. Taking her innocence was out of the question. He damn well wasn’t going to ruin her chances of a decent marriage.

His wife.

She didn’t have any idea what she’d done by proclaiming herself his. If he wished to do so, he could say the words and in the eyes of the People she would be his wife. The words would never suit her father. Nonetheless, in this situation the most fortuitous route might be to accept her as his wife, treat her as his wife. Furious emotions overrode eager ones to see her to hold her in his arms again, to kiss her, to have her in every way. She was so bloody sweet. The calm façade he was attempting to show slipped away as he drew nearer. His hands shook. His heart raced.

He galloped down the line of wagons nodding to people he didn’t know, greeting the ones he did know with their name. His blood seemed to boil under the hot sun. When he reached her, he saw the look of surprise on her sweet features. After she smiled at him, he was bowled over by the sheer power of the sight. His body hardened just as it had the day of the wedding when he kissed her, touched her small breasts hidden beneath the fabric of her gown. She was lovely. Beneath his breath, he swore.

Her smile faded. “Still Water Runs Deep?” Now that she had time to register the fierce look he slanted her, she didn’t seem so pleased to see him. “I can explain.”

Stephen bet she could. “Call me Stephen.” He paused as he searched his head for the right words. “Or husband.”

His voice was harsh but not as harsh as he wished the tone to be. He was so damn pleased to see her. He took some of the sting out of his voice. It was her smile that did him in. Her smile that robbed him of his anger. Her smile that sent all his senses to a boiling point.

“Stephen. What can I do for you?” she spoke, the voice as sweet as her words, her head tilted as if flirting to one side. “I would…” She stopped, her gaze riveted on his eyes.

She was too certain of herself, too damn secure in what she was doing. He was pleased there was a moment of doubt no matter how brief that moment turned out to be. “Tonight, after we eat, I guess you’ll find out.”

The paleness of her face satisfied him. She ran her tongue along her lips. “I don’t understand what you are implying. Are you eating with me tonight?”

“Scoot over.” He tied the reins of his horse to the wagon before landing on the seat next to her. “I’m driving for the next hour or so. You need to rest. Have you been doing all the driving since we left Independence?” He took over, holding the reins with one gloved hand. “Let me see your hands.”

Chauncey was sitting on them, shaking her head. “No. No, I don’t think so. You don’t have any right to demand anything of me.”

“Don’t want to have our first lover’s spat over your damn hands. Let me see them.”

He was seething. As her white husband, he had every right to ask her anything and expect her obedience. As her Sioux husband, she had even fewer rights. She was his to do with as he pleased.

“You can’t expect me to do whatever you ask.” She held them out, grimacing when he turned them over. “I can take care of myself.”

He damn well could expect that of her. He cursed when he saw the broken blisters, the redness of her hands, the beginning of calluses. “As your husband, I’ve every right. In case you forgot, as your husband you are mine to do with as I damn well please. I should leave you at the next fort.”

“You won’t.” Her chin was up in the air, reminding him of her spoiled upbringing. “You would never leave me to fend for myself.”

“You gambled on that fact. Didn’t you?” His lungs swelled with the hot air he breathed in. “I’m going to thrash your bottom until you can’t sit. After that…well hell…”

He couldn’t do that either. Idle threats got a man nowhere except into trouble he couldn’t climb out of. What was he thinking?

“You won’t,” she told him again, the sweetness of her smile sending heat straight to his groin. “You would never hurt me. I know that about you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here,” she said with a certainty she couldn’t possibly know.

“Five days, Chauncey. How did you keep me from seeing you for five days?”

His mind traveled over all the days searching for her. She would have been right up front and center when he traveled the lines looking over the train, assessing varying the abilities of the people. How had he missed her?

She lifted the shoulders he’d touched that night. They were covered now. They still looked fragile. He stared at her britches. Seems he should have noticed her butt in the air. Ah, but he might have thought she was a man. Shaking his head, disbelief prevalent. No, he would have never looked at her curves then believed her male. Her britches showed the flare of her hips that were not male.

“You never looked at me. When I saw you riding this way, I’d turn to find something in the wagon.”

In a gesture that drove him crazy, she lifted her shoulders in a feminine gesture that left the softest parts of her moving.

“Made sure you never saw my face. What did you expect? I knew if you saw me too soon, you might find a way to send me home.”

The little devil understood he would be angry with her as well as annoyed. She was right on all her assumptions. Now she flirted with him, testing him. Yes, if he’d discovered her a day or two out, he would have taken her back to Independence. Damn, but how on earth would he have gotten her home? He couldn’t have left her alone to find her way back to the ranch even though it seemed she navigated her way to Independence with little to no trouble. Inside, he was both seething with fury as well as with anticipation. He understood that even with a desperate fight with himself, he would succumb to her sweet charms. He was only a man. Her body talked to him in ways no other woman had. His emotions were mixed. He both wanted her with him while he needed to send her home to protect her from himself from the elements he had no control over.

Her father would be worried sick, her mother…

His fury mounted at her selfishness. As he waited, listening to the sounds of the land, hoping to find some kind of peace within, he was too angry for words. He slapped the reins on the horses urging them forward to catch up with the wagon in front of them. To flay her with words would not be enough punishment. She sat next to him, stiff as the wooden brake next to his leg. He couldn’t bear to look at her. If he saw any hint of victory in her face…he didn’t know what he would do.

“Can I ride your horse?” she asked sounding innocent of all wrong doing. “You know I’m very good with them. Can ride just like Lyssa.”

He turned to her, astonishment in his eyes. She must know the answer would be negative. The diversion wasn’t going to work with him. “No.” Breathing in as deep as he could he reached again for an inner peace that seemed to elude him the last few minutes. He needed to find a significant as well as successful way to deal with Chauncey.

“I don’t see why? Give me a reason I can understand.” She continued the discussion instead of taking his answer at face value. She would argue just to keep the conversation from her and this circumstance that was founded in foolishness. The smile of hers doomed him.

He stiffened, guarding his decisions. Practical actions as well as speech were the only way to proceed with her. “You don’t have to understand my reasons.”

He sipped in hot scorched air asking the gods above for patience as well as endurance to maintain his decisions. It would be far too easy for him to give in to her.

Terrell was riding beside the wagon, grinning as if he’d done him the greatest favor in the universe. After he tipped his hat at them, he spoke, “You two lovebirds enjoying a few moments of togetherness? It’s about time Stephen here helped you with your burden.”

Wouldn’t say enjoying was what they were doing. She leaned into him, pressing herself against his arm. He felt her breasts. Heard the soft inhalation of air. Imagined how she would feel pressed against his length.

“Oh, yes,” she purred, her words sounding so sweet as well as delicate, looking up at him that angelic smile of hers in place. “It was nice of you to tell my husband he could be with me. I so appreciate the fact. Driving the wagon can be taxing work. My delicate hands have suffered. My arms are sore.” To put emphasis on her words, she rubbed her arms.

Her acting skills were fine. If she kept insisting he was her husband, he would have to show her what husbands did with their wives. No, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her, even though she deserved a good shock. Even if he scared her, she would have to stay with the train. There was nowhere for her to go. There was nowhere he could leave her and feel she would be protected until he returned. His was a stalemate of her choosing.

Damn the interfering woman.

He grinned at Terrell, dipping his head, smiling as if he meant to do just what Terrell suggested. “I intend to enjoy the next hour then the rest of the evening with my wife. If you need me, you know where to find me. I’m going to be with Chauncey until tomorrow morning.”

He set his hand on her upper thigh, squeezed then moved his fingers closer to the apex.

She squirmed then tensed, her face flushing a soft pink. The color became her. He wondered what she would look like in the throes of passion when he gave her a woman’s pleasure.

Terrell hooted while he grinned from one ear to the other. “See you’re starting the loving early. Don’t get too distracted. We’ve still got a few hours to go before we can rest for the evening meal. One can only do so much with his wife when he’s got to keep the team of horses moving along.”

He could do a great deal with his wife, including seducing her until she was panting with her need to discover what came next. “Never get too distracted now do I, sweetheart?”

He leaned closer. His hand around her neck to hold her still, he kissed her. Ran his tongue along her lips, pushing for her to open for him. He didn’t know what he would do if she did what he asked. At this instant her mouth remained closed tight against him. He’d embarrassed her. She retaliated. Good, she deserved a bit of humiliation after what she did.

Stephen watched the wagon master ride down the column of wagons, holding his breath along with his raging thoughts. He had so many questions to ask, he wasn’t at all certain where to begin. He needed to understand what she told her parents. He felt certain it would be one fine tale. Lyssa and the way she sought out Kane came to mind. She was audacious, bold as well as blunt. From the get go, Kane didn’t stand a chance in hell against Lyssa’s wiles. He groaned understanding Chauncey might be just as forward.

After several minutes ticked by, he turned to her. In a smooth drawl he learned from some of the guests at the wedding feast, he asked, “What did you tell your daddy? Did you tell him you were following me into Indian territory? He’ll be mighty pleased to hear where you’re headed. Do you have any idea what he’ll do to me when I do bring you home? Scalping would be too good for the likes of the man who deflowered his daughter. Horse whipped might be appropriate.”

He wondered what kind of an excuse she gave him for her absence.

She stiffened as she sent him a ferocious scowl. Her chin rose a notch as her breath hitched into her throat. After smoothing her hands along her pants, she began to speak. “Suppose I knew that question was coming. In truth…it’s none of your concern. Didn’t tell him I ran off to be with you. If you’re afraid he will come for us, don’t be. My daddy is expecting me to be in London with Aunt Ella, the duchess. Told him I thought I deserved a season. Wanted to find an earl to marry just as my cousin did.”

“Supposed you must have told him something outrageous. He won’t believe you longer than he can check out your sorry story. So, tell me. What is it you said that won’t have your daddy showing up here with his shotgun? He could catch up to us without a blink. A man alone or accompanied by his son can move a hell of a log quicker than a wagon train.”

“No, he won’t. I promise you that.”

“You’re so certain. Know that I will hand you over to him as soon as he arrives. You’ve done this up all nice and tight. Chauncey, I don’t appreciate being put in the position as your guardian or your fake husband. I won’t be either.”

He didn’t see how he was going to get out of this conundrum she created.

She did grin then, flashed him her pretty white teeth with a broad smile. She touched his chest with the palm of her hand. “Not my guardian. My husband, yes. Since that kiss, I thought of little else besides being with you. I want adventure. I want to see other parts of the world. I want to learn what it’s like to be with a man. Not just any man, you.”

He gritted out trying to push down the raging anger. Where Chauncey was concerned right now, he wanted to shake her or make love to her. “I’m not your damn husband! I’m not ever going to be. Get that notion out of your pretty little head. If you can do that, we’ll deal so much better together. We’ve a long road ahead of us. Unless Aric does show up to bring you home, I’m all you’ve got to depend on. You need to trust me as well as what I tell you to do. In your case, there are no decision you are allowed to make. If your father does turn up, hope he paddles your little backside until you can’t sit for at least a week.”

“Everyone believes you are my husband. I told the Murphys in the wagon ahead of me and the Greeleys in the one behind me. We share a campfire at night. It’s obvious Mr. Terrell knows who you are. A young lady named Beth who is riding with the Greeleys knows. Soon the entire train will know who you are to me. You won’t be able to deny the fact.”

He groaned understanding that for the duration of this trip he was to be her husband. He remembered how her lips felt beneath his. How his fingers closed over her breast. How he felt when he slid his hand across the tightened bud. He wanted to discover how all of her would feel beneath him. How he would feel inside her. He wanted to see her naked with her legs spread wide just for him.

If he was going to return her unscathed to her parents, he would have the devil of a time. She set this in motion. To his dismay, he didn’t want to find himself forced to marry the little piece of baggage. That was a lie. It was the other things that were important. Chauncey wasn’t the type of woman a man dallied with. If he made love to her, he would have to marry her. A different scenario for them would never be possible.

“Want to know if your daddy is going to show up here.”

The wagons were slowing now, forming a circle for the evening. He concentrated on what he was doing, still hoping for an answer. Her silence told him this wasn’t a topic that left her feeling comfortable. Hell, he didn’t feel comfortable with any part of this situation.

“I left daddy a message he would find at a later date, well after I’d been gone for at least a day.”

She grinned at him as if that was all that was necessary.

“Yes. So, they are one day behind us?”

He needed to encourage her to tell him everything. This was something he needed to know. What she told her father could not be left to chance. It seemed to be what she hoped for.

She cocked her head to the side for a second lifting one shoulder as she did so. “Told him where he would find me.”

She told him nothing more. Once again, the silence stretched long and thin around him. He felt his gut clench.

Stephen groaned again. He would be dodging bullets in a few days. He’d be a dead man. Once the story she conjured was out in the open, he didn’t expect to live. “I don’t believe any of this. I’m saddled with a wife I don’t want. Can’t even use her as a good wife should be used to slake my lust.”

Inside, his gut contracting, he fumed wondering how he was meant to keep his hands from her delectable little body.

When he turned from her staring at the landscape then to her, she spoke. “You must not have heard me. Told him I went to London. That I missed my cousins. Wanted to meet an earl like Lyssa did. Everyone wants a title. You know that don’t you? Of course, you don’t. Thought that maybe the duchess would help me. Also told him I left with Tira and Jamie on board his ship.”

He snapped his fingers. “Just like that Aric is going to believe you set sail for London without discussing the adventure with him along with your mother. How stupid do you think your daddy is?” He couldn’t stop shaking his head at her foolishness. “Your father will ride as fast as possible to town where he’ll discover your lies. He will find out no ship took you to England. You never went with Tira and Jamie. What then? What will he think happened to you?”

“No, I said I went with Tira to Baltimore then Uncle Jamie would find a ship for me.” She insisted as if this plan was unstoppable.

“Are you truly that naïve?” he bit out, frustrated beyond belief. “I’m not going to be back to the east coast for a year, possibly more depending on what happens on this adventure as you call it. How long do you think it will take him to discover you didn’t go with Tira and that Jamie didn’t find you a ship? That you’re not in London where he expects you to be. That Ella never received you safely so she could chaperone you for a season? Well?”

She sat back, a wilted look on her usually bright features. “They are going to worry about me. It’s obvious, they will wonder where I am.” She brightened, surprising him. The little minx had something up her sleeve.

“Does anyone know where you went? It would be nice if you told someone… anyone…your brother.”

He was annoyed as well as frustrated beyond anything he could have ever imagined. He pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing as if the stiff motion would soothe his battered nerves. Nothing eased the pain that was growing in his head.

“No, I guess…” she sounded meek, perhaps even defeated.

Stephen didn’t think the crushed look would last long. She had this way of bouncing back despite the magnitude of her difficult situation. “You didn’t think further than the end your pert little nose. Did you?”

He didn’t have anything more to say. Neither did she. The wagons were circled. He hopped down, helping her, his hands around her tiny waist. He untied Spirit. Without another word to her, he mounted then raced away from the campsite, away from his supposed wife. For as many moments as he could tie together, he needed to find a bit of peace. He wished to think about what he intended to do with her. By showing up here, Chauncey became his responsibility. A responsibility he would cherish under different circumstances.

Heaving, spent, Stephen pulled up Spirit. He stopped. The cliff overlooking the wagons gave him a view he didn’t care to examine. He saw the men and women going about the evening, fixing dinner, talking about the day or days so far, sharing their hopes as well as their dreams of starting a new life in the west. They were all risking their lives in hopes of a better future. All but Chauncey. She was here on a whim, treading on other’s lives just for herself. He would have to figure out some way to deal with Chauncey. She didn’t leave him much room to maneuver. Terrell believed them married. In front of some of these people, he would have to act the besotted newlywed. He had to do it without taking her innocence.

He dismounted. Sat cross legged as he set his mind to a new course. A place he’d not anticipated a few hours ago loomed in front of him. The difficulties of this new journey plagued him. The protection of this woman was at the forefront of his mind. He needed to return her safe to the bosom of her family. He would make her write a letter to her father and mother. Aric Lakeland deserved to know where his wayward daughter ran off to.

She was beautiful.

Full of life and love.

Her sense of humor filled him with joy.

If she continued with this tactic, she would indeed become his wife in more ways than one. He knew now he would take her with him, all the way to Lakota territory, all the way to meet his family. Once she was within the circle of his People, she would be his. They would insist. There would be no turning around, no changing of the circumstance. He would not walk in a backward path. Until then, if he could find the way, he would keep his hands to himself. He didn’t want to bring a pregnant woman on this dangerous path. Wouldn’t risk a child or the woman.

He needed to maintain his distance.

Stephen would make certain she understood. She would have to believe he didn’t want her for his wife. That she must play make-believe until neither could pretend any longer. Until she slept with him on his furs in his lodge, he would not make love to her. Unless they were married by a priest or a man of God.  He drew in a full breath of air, filling his lungs with the fragrant scent of the prairie, realizing he wasn’t going to stand a chance of doing so.

Would she persevere in this scheme? He imagined that would be left up to the gods above.

He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted another woman. He closed his eyes, feeling the wind speak to him, absorbing the sounds of the ending summer fill him with hope.

This Sioux warrior couldn’t take a white woman for a wife. Black Thunder took Lyssa Andrews as his. He was a damn earl. What did he, Still Water Runs Deep, have to offer a white woman? Nothing. She was used to being a pampered child of an aristocrat. Well, he did learn that Aric Lakeland was a bastard. Unlike her father, at least he knew who is parents were. Confusion swamped him. Changing emotions ruled his head. He imagined he would allow fate to take its course.

Ah, the complexities of life. His stomach rumbled with need. He hadn’t eaten since this morning. He would see what his wife had in store for him for dinner. She told him she could cook. Her biscuits were the tastiest. Could she cook over an open fire? That remained to be seen.

There was much in this life of his that remained to be seen.

~ * ~

Standing beside her wagon, her hand shielding her eyes, Chauncey watched Still Water Runs Deep race away. He ran from her. Coward. Perhaps he didn’t. Discovering her left no choices for him. That was a lot for a man to absorb.

Five days out she’d been discovered. Every time he rode by the wagon, she held her breath while her heart raced, ducking to hide her face, or pulling her hat down. With each new breaking of the dawn, she felt renewed hope that he would not be able to send her home.

He was angry, more than furious. Livid might describe Still Water Runs Deep. She’d understood that would be his reaction from the first moment she put her plan into motion.

She had posted a letter to her parents the day they left Independence. The letter told them in truth what happened to her as well as why. She needed to make certain both her mother and father understood this was her decision. Still Water Runs Deep had no idea what she planned. No one could have changed the fact she fell so in love with the man, her heart stopped at the thought of him going away. She couldn’t allow him to leave for a year or more without her. If this decision of hers created problems, she would deal with them.

“How are you doing?” Beth asked placing a hand on her shoulder, her eyes searching. “I see he’s discovered you. Mr. Wilkes doesn’t seem pleased. What are you going to do now?”

“Imagine I’m relieved at the discovery. The worry along with the fear of the unearthing of my presence are gone. The weight is lifted from my shoulders. As to what I’m going to do, I don’t have the foggiest notion. Suppose I should start dinner.”

She imagined what she would do would depend on Still Water Runs Deep No, Stephen, he wanted her to call him Stephen. She would have to take her cues from him, one moment at a time.

“Beans and bacon and biscuits?” Beth asked with a tiny laugh as she walked with Chauncey to the campfire. “We need some meat of some kind. Rabbit would be nice. I hear rattle snake can be tasty.”

“Yes,” Chauncey mused, she did have bacon along with beef jerky she purchased in Independence.

She’d eaten very little of the stores, saving it for Still Water Runs Deep when he discovered her. Perhaps she would make this meal a bit more mouthwatering by adding the bacon to the beans. Suppose she should start to think of him as Stephen. She did like that name.

Stephen Wilkes was a nice name. Unofficially and without benefit of clergy, she was now Mrs. Wilkes. A small giggle of pleasure left her. She wished she could see him again as she did that first time she saw him, his chest bare while he raced beside fifty of the finest race horses money could buy toward the Andrews’ ranch. Beth observed her for a moment with a strange look in her eyes but she didn’t ask any questions. After a few seconds she looked away.

Entering the back of the wagon, Chauncey pulled out her apron tying the strings around her waist. Next, she gathered the other items she needed to put on the fire she shared with the Murphys and the Greeleys. Every once in a while, with her hand on the small of her back stretching to stare into the space outside the wagons she realized she was searching for him. He left almost two hours ago to race off his anger. He might not return to the wagon. Stephen could spend the night under the stars. She thought he would return. Believed he would protect her by complying with her lie. She needed to tell herself the falsehood was small. After all, the untruth only affected them.

Still Water Runs Deep was not a man who spoke untrue. She forced him to do that. It was necessary for her to get what she wanted. A pang of guilt flooded her. She brushed the sentiment aside. Was she that narrow minded and selfish? Yes, she must admit to herself.

What did she know about men? Nothing.

Now the biscuits were cooked and cooling near the fire. The beans with the added bacon were also finished. She dished up a bowl for herself before grabbing a biscuit from the pan. Disconsolate, she sat down on the hard ground, leaning against a wagon wheel. She imagined she deserved the abandonment. He would come home for food. Wouldn’t he? Probably not. He spent the last five nights eating somewhere else.

At this point, he couldn’t denounce her. Of course, he could. If he did, she would be set aside at the next tiny settlement or fort. She would have to wait for her father to retrieve her in disgrace. She was lost in thought, miserable notions, debilitating ideas. What would she do if he left her somewhere. She pulled in a long, deep breath of smoky air telling herself to stop feeling sorry for herself. She needed to tell him she posted a letter to her mother and father the day they left Independence.

“Got enough for me?”

She jerked to attention. Her gaze roamed up long legs ever higher up to meet his sizzling green eyes. He came back. She swallowed the surprise. Cleared her throat. “More than enough. Would you like me to dish up a bowl?” He was here, asking for dinner. That was a good sign. Wasn’t it? She would proceed now as if everything was fine. She smiled at him.

Stephen didn’t appear too pleased. “Don’t need you to wait on me. Point me in the right direction and I’ll dish myself up some of whatever it is you made. Would you like more?”

The tenderness in his voice astounded her.

“The food is by the fire, beans with a bit of added bacon and biscuits on the side. The bowl is in the back of the wagon along with a spoon I set there for you. Truly, though, I can get it for you. You must be tired. You’ve been at work all day.”

He shook his head then nodded. Holding her breath, she watched him, his long lose strides eating up the short distance. After he dished up, he sat down beside her, their shoulders touching. In the chilling night air, his warmth penetrated through the flannel of her jacket. She held her breath waiting for his thoughts. She wasn’t at all certain how to deal with the man. He was always so stoic and calm. This afternoon he showed more emotion than she ever remembered seeing before. His green eyes blazed at her, simmered then when he studied her, his gaze heated her.

After several bites, he spoke, “Either I’m famished or your biscuits are better than Amorica’s. I wonder…well the beans are good too. You added bacon. Yes, you said that. Thank you, it’s better than what I’ve been eating the last five days.”

“Yes,” she agreed happy to hear the words of praise not knowing what to say to him.

His compliment directed toward her food was sweet. The conversation was unimportant. He held her future in his large hands and he was speaking of biscuits. Given enough time, he would get down to specifics concerning how he felt about her behavior.

Between mouthfuls of food, he began to question her. He reached for a third biscuit. “What is in your wagon? I trust you had good advice when you went shopping for the long trip.” He wiped his bowl clean of sauce with an extra biscuit. He set down the bowl, drank a long swig of his coffee. “We can save the rest of these for breakfast. We’re heading out early, the break of dawn I believe. Well, as close to that time as possible. Need to make it to the river by mid-afternoon.”

At his revelation, excitement ripped through her. “River? A bath?” she asked in anticipation of feeling clean again. The tiny bit of water she washed with now didn’t give her that same luxurious clean feeling she so loved. She pulled her shirt away from her sweat-sticky body. “Heavenly.”

Immersed in water.

He chuckled at her question along with her reaction. Stared at her breasts when she pulled the fabric away from her skin. “Only if I go with you. Heard there is a nice pool about fifty yards from where we will pull up. Everyone is going to want a bath though. We should go a bit farther for some privacy. This morning when I rode ahead, I spotted a pool with a nice little waterfall. No one will go that distance from the wagons.” He stared at her with those green eyes of his that could tug every bit of truth from her.

The horrible man continued to laugh when he witnessed her surprise. “Go with me? You can’t be serious.”

He would see her naked. Without any clothing. You’re supposed to be married, you ninny.  She groped for meaningful words. Found none. Repeated herself. “You don’t mean that.”

One raven eyebrow arched with what seemed like speculation. “Yes, wouldn’t leave you alone to bathe anywhere except your home. This isn’t a place where women are safe without a man.” He paused for a few seconds while he stared into the night sky that was now twinkling with stars. “Or my home.”

She didn’t say anything. Chauncey was mulling his words over in her head. Was he accepting the fact she called him her husband? She didn’t know. It seemed he hid his emotions beneath a blank façade. She couldn’t read him.

He would do as he pleased. She learned as much from talking with Lyssa. A woman had little control over her life once they wed. That wasn’t something she was used to.

“Are you staying the night here? At my…our wagon?”

Her voice wobbled with the confusion and mixed feelings soaring through her head. She wanted him in her bed, holding her, kissing her, touching her as he did that day behind the church.

Silence hugged them until he spoke. “Don’t have a choice,” he said, taking her bowl from her. “You’ve taken all my choices away from me. I will sleep with my imagined wife.” He rose, taking her bowl from her hands.

There was hot water simmering over the shared cook fire. He poured some in his bowl, swirled it as he walked to the wagon. “Soap?” he asked. He didn’t sound angry just calm. Resigned.

She didn’t know what to think. Her heart raced. The air she tried to breathe was filled with confusion.

“In the left-hand corner.”

Stephen washed and rinsed the bowls setting them in the back of the wagon. He stared inside appearing to make a mental note of what she purchased. She knew she did well. The wagon was full of supplies, mostly of the edible kind. One valise with a minimum amount of clothing sat near the front. It was just enough to fit into her saddlebags when they left the train. His silence unnerved her, rattled her to her core. She didn’t dare watch him though she wanted to see what he was about. While she stared at him wondering what he was going to do, he was inside the wagon, going through her things, her purchases. A twinge of panic drowned her. She wasn’t a frivolous white woman as he suggested. Nor was she delicate. All her life she worked the ranch with her parents. She didn’t care about the wearing the highest fashions. Clothes were needed for work, practical clothes. Over the years she found men’s clothing was easier to work in than women’s clothing.

What would he think about her purchases?

When he sat down beside her again, her body shook with the tension she felt vibrating from her into him. His large hand settled on her leg, rested there while she felt heat rising to flame on her cheeks. While the slight breeze stirred the embers of the cook fire, he stroked her leg. Passion rushed through her. A different kind of trembling seized her. She swallowed hard, tried to concentrate on the blaze in front of her instead of the one within her.

He continued in this vein, his voice bland when he spoke. “You cannot wear these or any britches any longer. It’s not appropriate for my wife, my woman to wear men’s clothing. Did you bring a skirt or a gown?” he asked.

His hand settled at the top of her thigh. He waited for her to answer.

Chauncey didn’t want to allow him to dictate to her. He didn’t have the right. She felt his touch as if the contact seared her. Burned through her clothing. “I don’t…” she began intending to deny him. “I can’t…”

“You will obey me, your husband, in this. You cannot flaunt your delicious feminine butt nor the delightful curve of your hips to all the young bucks who are traveling with us. I won’t have you showing all your curves to men, any man besides me. You are known as my wife now among all the people on the train. I’ve acknowledged you, accepted the lie you created. You will behave in the manner suitable to a real woman not a woman wishing to ape a man. Now, you are my woman.” His voice was so calm, casual as if he spoke of what he ate for dinner.

She understood his anger, the fury he seemed to hide. Didn’t agree with his demands. “That’s your final command.”

A slow shimmer of rage shuffled through her, eager to find a way out. She wasn’t used to being told what to do, how to act, what to wear or not to wear. She wanted to toss what was left of her coffee in his face.

“You set yourself up for this,” he reminded her stroking her again, now resting his hand as if he owned her on her belly.

He spread his fingers as if testing for something. He still didn’t show emotion in his voice or his actions. He was cold. His words were colder.

“I did,” she admitted, shivering with a rush of feelings she didn’t understand.

The sensations were nice though. She wished for a kiss, after that another one. His head rested on the wheel. His breaths were slow and even. He pulled her across his thighs.

“This is for all our spectators. There are people watching us. Did you know that? We seem to be today’s gossip. The couple who are married. The couple who have not been together for five days.” He stroked the length of her back. His hand wrapped around her. One fingertip exploring along her side until he was close to her breast. She felt the pressure of his hand lifting her breast from beneath. She sucked in air, startled by the contact. Butterflies danced and played in her stomach.

“Wh-where are you sleeping?” She thought of the pallet inside the wagon. Most of the people slept in tents or beneath their wagons. Filled with supplies there was not enough room for families to sleep in the traveling homes. She was small. The space was just enough room for her. Not for Still Wa…Stephen. His thumb taunted her, teasing her, brushing across the hardened tip of her breast. She inhaled a stiff breath of air. This was what she wanted. Wasn’t it?

“With my wife. You like this. Admit it to me. That’s why you came after me. For more of this.” He stood, setting her back where she’d been, holding out his hand until she placed hers in his warmth. “Come, we leave early in the morning. You will need your sleep. I won’t be able to drive the wagon for most of the day. I must scout ahead then report back to Terrell.”

She realized then that all the bedding was beneath the wagon; her pallet, the blankets, the pillows. He would sleep with her tonight. The realization of his words hit home.

He would sleep with his wife.

What to do?

Sleeping with him was what she wanted. Wasn’t it?

This was real, very real as well as frightening.  It’s what I wanted. She didn’t know how a woman slept with a man. With his big warm body beside her, she didn’t think she would get a moment of rest. Her mother and father slept together. “I…”

She slid her tongue along her lower lip, holding back as he tugged on her to tag along behind him. She stumbled. He cursed then held her closer.

“This is what you wanted. Is it not? To sleep with your husband was the reason for your foolishness. Wasn’t it? Am I wrong? Did you have no idea what marriage entailed when you embarked on this recklessness?” His voice was gentle, soft as well. She heard the huskiness of desire that she associated with her father when he wanted her mother in the bedroom. He wouldn’t let this go.

“Yes.” She could never deny the truth. “Yes, I wanted this. I just don’t comprehend what this entails. I’m eager as well as frightened to learn what you expect.”

Her steps still lagged though. She saw that he also set her nightdress out for her. She looked at him surprised. Her mother and father always slept naked. She knew the earl slept with Lyssa naked. She sucked in a deep breath of air, relieved for the moment. She felt as if he gave her armor to sleep in. Stephen was offering a momentary reprieve.

“Change then meet me beneath the wagon.”

She watched him sit on the pallet to remove his shoes. He put them inside the wagon. After that he removed his shirt. Her gaze riveted on him. She waited for him to remove his buckskins. He unfastened them. At that instant he looked at her. He grinned showing a wealth of even white teeth. She ducked inside the wagon fumbling with the buttons on her shirt.

When she looked up, he stood at the end of the wagon watching her disrobe. Well, watching her fumble with the buttons on her shirt. “A dress would not give you so much trouble.”

Nonchalantly, he leaned on the back of the wagon, still staring. “Do you need help, Chauncey? I wish to go to bed before the sun peaks itself over the horizon. If this undressing takes any longer, that won’t happen.”

“I…of course, I don’t. I can undress,” her voice wavered.

She turned her back on him. Finished with the buttons. Her shirt slipped to the floor. She felt the coolness of the night air against her skin. Heard the soft curses. In haste, she reached behind her for the nightdress. Found it then slipped the fabric over her head. Heaving a silent sigh of relief, she slid her pants down her legs.

She was brushing her hair when she heard him again.

“What is keeping you?” he asked from behind her. He sounded impatient, exasperated.

The smile on her face widened, “Getting ready for bed. What does it look like?” she asked putting as much sugar into her voice as possible. “I always brush my hair one hundred strokes before I go to bed.”

Once more she heard his soft swearing. Couldn’t understand all the words, only a few. She should not want to make him angry.

“Now, Chauncey! You’ve tried my patience to its limit. If you are not in bed in the next five seconds…” The threat was unspoken yet very real.

She didn’t hear the end of the threat. Didn’t want to. Dropping the brush, she was out of the wagon and beneath the covers he set out in less than five.

“That’s better,” he mumbled as he slipped under the covers pulling her close. “It’s the way a good wife should be, compliant.”

She bristled. Compliant? I’ll give him the opposite.

The length of him was against her back. His hand rested with possession on her belly, touched her hipbones. She didn’t know what he wanted of her. She whimpered when his lips brushed with tenderness against her nape. His teeth grazed where his lips had been a second before. He cupped her breast in his hand, holding the tiny mound with gentleness. Against him she trembled, heated at the magic his tender caresses brought to her.

When his hand fell away, she turned in his arms. His eyes were closed, his lips parted with the breath he inhaled and exhaled.

He was asleep.

Chauncey didn’t think she would be able to sleep. For minutes-upon-minutes, she stared out at the darkness, glimmering stars, the silver moon. As the moon passed across the dark sky, the campfire died down to smoldering embers. While the sentries patrolled the area, they added wood. The moon now sat low on the horizon.

The swat to her bottom woke her. “You’re lazing away the day, Mrs. Wilkes. Time to rise. I heated the coffee you made last night.”

In front of her, he sat on his haunches holding two cups of coffee. She wanted to rage at his boldness. When the blanket slipped to her waist, she realized the gown was unfastened. Her eyes widened when she saw he stared at her breasts. With as much haste as she could muster, she pulled the fabric together, wondering when that happened and why she wasn’t aware. Startled by the revelation, she gazed at him, questioning without speaking the words.

Touching her cheek with the back of his hand, he smiled. It was a masculine all-knowing grin, “You were sweet last night. I thank you for your first time.”

His words shook her. Her eyes widened even more. She gasped in a tiny puff of air. “My first time? The first time for what?” She didn’t understand what he was talking about. White-knuckled her fingers held the gown together.

“I’m going to have to scout ahead this morning. I’ll return around noon so I can spell you at the reins. A woman so breakable as you should not find herself driving a wagon all day. Terrell has no problems. This land is as safe as it can be. No hostiles will attack us. If we stop for any reason, don’t leave the wagon until I speak with you.”

Even though she had no intention of exploring the land if they stopped for some unthought of reason, she bristled at his command. She wasn’t stupid or foolish although he accused her of those traits. By coming here, she followed her heart. Despite his obvious dislike at having to acknowledge her as his wife, she would continue to do the same again.

As she watched his back, he vanished, mounted on his big stallion. She observed the tiny bits of dust the hooves raised. They would be underway soon. Still Water Runs Deep harnessed the horses for her. It was the first time she didn’t have to do this herself. The night was spent in his arms. He thanked her for her first time. Confused…she would remember if he made love to her. What she did recall was that he fell asleep first. Tonight, would be another night. She could ask him.

Less than thirty minutes later the wagons started to move. Chauncey thought about the bath, the clean water along with the soap. She had trouble keeping her emotions in check as the day grew hotter. Sweat slid down her body, all of her body. Though she would not have believed the fact if Stephen told her, she was cooler in the gown. She wore no petticoats or corset. All she had on was her gown and her chemise even foregoing pantalets. When she lifted her skirt to mid-calf, the breeze caressed her legs then her thighs.

He still would not approve of her choice of clothing. She didn’t care. He could rant all he wanted. She would dress as she pleased…to be comfortable. True, there were no young bucks who looked at her with lustful thoughts. Tapping her finger on her chin, she did recall Percival Mahoney stopping by each day with a word or two. Several times, he offered to drive the wagon for her. His eyes didn’t roam very far. They always seemed riveted on her bosom. Her tiny bosom. Maybe Stephen had a point. A mouthful was enough to appease a man.

Beth liked the boy. She could have swooned the day Percival took off his hat then spoke to her. Chauncey chuckled to herself remembering, wishing Beth would have a young suitor.

“Can I ride with you?” Beth stood by the side of the wagon looking up. She looked wistful, as if she needed her for something. Clearing her throat, she began to speak. “Need conversation. Thought after the night with your husband, you might want to talk. I’ve been there before. It was your first time? Wasn’t it?”

What she needed to know is if Stephen made love to her. Asking Beth wouldn’t do her much good. Beth would know less than she did. Wouldn’t she? Beth was only about seventeen. Not that much younger than her. Maybe younger.

“Wouldn’t mind a bit of conversation. Climb up.”

A few minutes later the wagons lumbered down the trail. She was exuberant they weren’t going all the way to Oregon. These families all gave up so much for this journey. To her this excursion was an adventure in the making. To people like the Murphys and the Greeleys, it was a change in their lives. One they hoped would be for the better.

Beth looked at her with wide dark eyes. Gently, she touched her arm. “Was he good to you last night. I mean…he didn’t hurt you, did he?” The girl was looking at her toes, her face pale. “I was afraid for you. I didn’t hear anything though. No screams of pleasure or pain. That seems odd.”

The girl just gave her a wealth of questions. She was more confused. “Yes, he was nice and he didn’t hurt me. He ate then we went to bed. That was all.” Chauncey didn’t know what else to say to the girl. “Why were you afraid for me?”

“Promise you won’t say anything,” Beth began, her words solemn, her voice soft with a small tremble. “The Greeleys rescued me from a work home. I was sold to a man and woman who wanted me to service the husband because the wife didn’t want him anywhere near her. Lived with them for three years before the Greeleys came along. They must have bought me from the other people. Though they don’t demand much of anything from me. I still need to pay for my room and board.”

Chauncey’s blood froze. “Demand? What did they demand, Beth? Service? I don’t understand.”

After shaking out her skirt, Beth began, “Sex. The men always wanted sex. After the first time I learned to stare at the ceiling and lay as still as I could unless he wanted me to touch him. Is that what you did last night? Drift off to a place where you wouldn’t feel either pain or pleasure?”

Her breath stuck in her throat. “Does Mr. Greely want sex too?”

She would have to tell Stephen. She promised Beth. She couldn’t tell a soul. Chauncey didn’t know how she could keep this secret. Beth asked too much. Even though she sounded matter of fact, Chauncey denoted hurt in her voice.

“Yes. Most nights it’s over fast. I don’t feel anything anymore. The first times though, before I learned to relax and keep my mind blank, what the men did to me hurt. I always screamed. Some of the men liked me to yell. Now when it’s done, I just curl up inside myself.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Overwhelmed with the information, Chauncey wished she could right this problem. Still Water Runs Deep would tell her it was not up to her to fix anything concerning Beth.

Beth touched her arm, moisture glistening in her eyes. “I want to help you if you need it. Men can be cruel and hurtful. I know how to help you get through with the sex without too much pain.”

“Stephen isn’t cruel. He’s a very nice man.”

It was not difficult to defend Stephen. He was a nice man. There is no meanness about him. She didn’t believe he would ever treat her as Beth described.

“I know. I don’t see any meanness in his eyes. Yesterday, he was angry with you. Everyone saw that when he raced away from the wagons. He had to be furious with you for some reason. What was it?”

Chauncey lifted her shoulders, knowing she could never tell Beth everything. “I can’t say. He would be angrier if I spoke of it.”

She understood he wanted to get away from all this unscathed. Forcing a marriage on him had never been her intent, though by her actions that was exactly what she was doing. The romantic that she was, she thought he was in love with her. When he kissed her the first time, she fell in love with him. He didn’t reciprocate the sentiment.

One kiss means nothing to men. She recalled Jess telling her brother that very thing. Men, her brother, Kane, they all kissed many girls. They didn’t love any of them. She’d been a fool. This might be the biggest mistake of her life. In this case, there was no going back.

“If you want to ask anything, my offer stands. I’ll answer any questions. Just tell me when you wish to talk.”

Chauncey didn’t believe she’d be asking Beth anything. At the moment, all she wanted was to stay away from Stephen. She didn’t think he would allow her the privilege of keeping distance between them.

~ * ~

Aric Lakeland stomped through the house. He’d ridden to Baltimore. Dust covered him. Filled his mouth as well as his nostrils. He conversed with Jamie Lundin to discover his daughter lied to him. She didn’t go to London to visit cousins. She didn’t even go to Baltimore. Her name didn’t appear on a ship’s manifest.

Where the hell was she? His fist landed hard on the wall.

“Sit down, Aric. I’m certain she is fine. We need to believe that or we’ll go crazy worrying about her.” Ravyn plied her needle in the new stitchery she worked on. “You will drive yourself crazy if you keep pacing. What exactly did Jamie tell you?”

“That she didn’t do as she told us in her letter. She’s not in Baltimore. Not in London.” He rubbed the back of his neck, swearing beneath his breath. When he looked up to gaze at his wife, “Where the hell is she?”

“Lyssa believes she is with Still Water Runs Deep. It seems she was enamored of him though we didn’t notice. She says they shared a kiss or perhaps more behind the church the day of her wedding.” She set her work on her lap to meet his gaze. “Do you recall that I hid in a trunk so I could stay with you rather than find myself sent back to London?”

He swore again. The memory didn’t ease his worries. “You think she is that in love with the man. She barely knows him. He’s headed for Indian territory. She’s in danger.”

“The man is Sioux. A warrior. He will protect her.”

Ravyn’s words didn’t calm him or soothe his stretched nerves. They just made him angrier. “He will try. There are no guarantees. They will come back wed in the way of the People. Do you think they will find some backwoods traveling minister to wed them? When they return next year, we will make certain they say their vows here. I won’t have it any other way. If they haven’t married in some way, there will be hell to pay. I’ll recognize any marriage before I bring out my shotgun.”

“That is quite magnanimous of you, dear.”

She rose. Walked to him then wrapped her arms around him.

“You won’t change my mind with a tiny bit of loving,” he said even as he turned to kiss her.

“I wouldn’t dream of doing so. They will not have a bastard for a child.”

“No, they won’t.”

His fingers tightened on her shoulders. When he saw her look of pain, he let her go unable to figure out what it was he should do.

“I would not accept that either. Chauncey will do the right thing. She will insist they wed.”

“He’s a man, Ravyn. I doubt if he instigated this. If he doesn’t want to marry her, no one will be able to force him to do so.”

“No, he most likely did not instigate this. We both understand our daughter is single-minded.”

“Admit it, Chauncey is willful. Just like her mother.”

“Don’t blame this all on me. Yes, she is used to getting her way in everything. She is spoiled. We did that to her. I regret that fact? No! Not for one minute. It’s what makes her strong.”

Aric pulled her closer, felt her warmth, knew what he wanted to ease his mind. “I will send Slade after her. He will find her.”

She touched his jaw with her fingertip in an attempt to soothe. “We do not know where they went. We cannot send Slade into Indian territory on the off chance that he will find her. We could be sending our son to his death. Have you thought on that?” Ravyn asked gazing at him with loving eyes.

“No, don’t know how they will travel or in which direction.” He understood what she wanted, accepted the fact that in this situation they were helpless. There were too few choices to be made.

“We will wait.”

She pulled his head closer, her mouth raised expectantly to his. Running her tongue along her bottom lip she asked for a kiss, for renewal of love.

He understood she was just as frightened as he was. He kissed her, let his lips explore the woman he loved. Tugged on her bottom lip so she would open for him to sightsee. Heat filled him. All-encompassing love touched his heart. The kiss was long and slow. When he stepped back from the deepness, from the magic, he knew his answer would not make her happy. It would have to do. They would have to find a way to come to terms with his need to run after his daughter then haul her home as if she was a recalcitrant child. “I don’t believe I can.”

“You have no choice,” she murmured touching secret places in his heart. “You will have to trust Chauncey. She is an adult woman with needs you can’t understand.”

He groaned when her exploring hands dipped beneath his buckskins, held him, stroked his swelling length. The warmth of her small fingers never ceased to arouse him. He saw Still Water Runs Deep with his daughter. Imagined him making love to her. She was innocent. He was seasoned in every way a man could be. The man was older, would want her beneath him. He should understand what was right. Still Water Runs Deep was still a man, a very virile one at that.

Saw her belly swelled with Still Water Runs Deep’s child. His stomach twisted with the notion he failed to protect her. “She is an innocent, romantic at heart. Chauncey has no idea what she has gotten herself into.”

“I imagine she does,” Ravyn whispered. “Maybe not everything,” she amended her voice soft. She may be innocent but she has needs just as all other women. “Still Water Runs Deep and Chauncey…he will treat her with respect. I’m certain of that fact. He is like Kane.”

He withdrew from his wife to stride around the room, stopping occasionally, to swear then to stare outside as if he would see her striding to the door. “I would know where she went. A father needs to protect his daughter. I failed.”

He gripped his fists tighter, wishing to hit the man who would take advantage of his little girl.

“You understand it is our daughter who assumed he would welcome her with open arms. Still Water Runs Deep is most likely innocent in this deception of hers. He didn’t want her to go with him. The man would never put her into danger. Escorting her into Indian territory would do that very thing. He is caught in a situation he no longer controls. A situation orchestrated by our daughter.”

Aric turned on her, his fury simmering to the point where he thought he would burst. He wanted to ride hard. Needed to rescue his daughter. He didn’t know where she was even though he was reasonably certain as to where she was headed. “Don’t understand why you defend that man.”

She laughed, setting her hands on his chest. “That man…reminds me of you more than twenty years ago. Of course, I’m going to defend him.”

Aric snorted, displeased with her confession. “Still Water Runs Deep isn’t anything like me.”

“You were stubborn to a fault. Thought only you knew what was good for me. Intended to send me home even though I pleaded with you to let me stay. I wonder if Chauncey is pleading with her man even now. The similarities are interesting. Don’t you think?”

Ravyn chose not to continue the argument. After the short diatribe she fell silent. To Aric, it seemed obvious she decided he was right and she was wrong. The front door opened. Booted feet that had to be his sons strode through the house.

“Father! I’ve news!”

When he entered the parlor, they stepped apart. Slade grinned as if he knew what they’d been doing.

His son was too observant. Hell, he was a young man now. Aric knew Slade wasn’t celibate. “News?”

Awkwardly, they both stepped forward. Aric’s hand was stretched out to take the paper from Slade’s fingers.

He handed it over. “A letter from your lost daughter. I didn’t read it,” Slade said as he watched.

Aric’s brows drew together. He swallowed the gut-wrenching fear ripping through him. For several seconds he held the envelope in his hand while his breath hitched. Ravyn’s hand fluttered on his arm. It had been five days since they left…a lifetime.

“Would you like me to read it to you?” Ravyn asked, her voice soft. “Or Slade.”

He tugged in a deep breath of air as he opened the envelope then stared at the paper in front of him. Tears filled his eyes. It was just as he feared. Aric looked up then began to read.

Dear Mother and Father,

The first bit of information that you should have, is that I’m safe. The second is that I did this on my own. Still Water Runs Deep played no part in my decision. You see, I love Still Water Runs Deep. He doesn’t know my feelings yet. I didn’t want him to leave me for the year he said he would be gone. Don’t come after us. You might catch up to the wagon train but I won’t leave. You would only embarrass yourself and me as well. If you send Slade, well, even though he’s my big brother, he’s too young to be traveling through Indian territory by himself, a place he knows nothing about. You wouldn’t put his life at risk. I know you.

As for me, I’m a grown woman. I can make up my mind. You no longer have a say in what I do. I’m writing this from Independence Missouri. I took the train here. Now, we are going overland by wagon train. Still Water Runs Deep is a guide and a scout for the train. Here he is known as Stephen Wilkes.

No, Stephen doesn’t yet know I’m here. I’m hoping he won’t for a few more days. The more time we are out of Independence the less chance he has of taking me back. I’ve told everyone he is my husband. He will be furious with me when he finally sees me. Imagine, I deserve his anger.

I do want him as my husband.

When he discovers my ruse, he won’t hurt me. I know him well enough to understand he is a kind, gentle man. You see, he has no meanness in his eyes. I’ve seen that meanness before. If Still Water…Stephen is my life. I love him.

Please forgive me. Please don’t try to stop me in anyway. If you do, I’ll never forgive you.

Love,

Chauncey

“He’s a bloody Sioux warrior! Bloody everlasting hell! He’s taken scalps! What does she mean there is no meanness in his eyes and that she’s seen meanness,” Aric asked letting the letter float to the floor. He turned to Slade in search of an answer. “What else has she told you?”

“It’s Paxton,” Slade said speaking what seemed to be from his heart. “He cornered her one day then tried to force her. She made me promise to remain silent. That is what she was talking about. Because I was there. He left without getting what he wanted.”