Oh, how she wished she could trust his words. It pained her to have to put her guard back up. Despite how lovely it felt in his arms, she pushed herself away.
“I’m fine, thank you,” she said. Cole released her, but held her at arm’s length, his dark eyes penetrating hers.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked low. Others in their party had glanced at her, but now moved on, as everyone was busy preparing to move on.
She nodded. Time to play submissive again. “Yes, sir,” she whispered. If she could only get him to think she was obedient, when they reached the next town, opportunity might arise. “I’m fine.”
He nodded, appeased, and kissed her forehead gently, his whiskers tickling. To her dismay, her heart fluttered again. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Now go on and get dressed. I don’t want anyone’s eyes seein’ you dressed like this but mine.”
She wondered why he cared now how she was dressed, when she’d been hauled out of her house in front of all of them in nothing but a chemise?
He spun her around and gave her a teasing swat, sending her on her way. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment, not just from the realization that she was only dressed in her chemise, but because her body had betrayed her, the force of the gentle swat making heat pulse between her legs. Angry tears filled her eyes. She had to hate him. She simply had to.
Chapter Eight
Pain and pleasure, like light and darkness, succeed each other. ? Laurence Sterne
They rode a full day, stopping only for a brief meal Cole allowed. He watched Aida reluctantly choke down hardtack with coffee. She was learning. Patricia fed her baby, and explained that an Indian woman she’d befriended taught her how to tie her baby to her back. It was a useful tool, as the baby dozed easily while they rode hard. Patricia sat behind Preach, holding tightly to his large body, and when they stopped, Preach saw to her needs. He hoped Preach wasn’t growing soft on her. Any attachment to a woman on the trail was dangerous.
Aida rode behind him, at the head of the pack, holding onto him. It seemed she held on less reluctantly than when they first began, and he hoped it would stay that way. Time would tell.
The clomping of horse’s hooves came beside him, until Justice rode next to him. “You reckon we’ll make it to Lawson’s in time?” he asked.
Cole clenched his jaw and nodded. They were not to speak of their plans in front of Aida. “You know it,” he growled. They’d ride hard all night if they had to but his plans would not fail. “Everything’s workin’ just as it should, except for yesterday, but we ain’t slowed down none. Now no more talk of it.”
Justice gave a barely perceptible nod, gently lifting the reins on his horse so that she slowed and fell in line behind Cole.
“We’re going to Litchfield?” Aida asked behind him.
Cole swore. Curse his brother and his claptrap. Women didn’t have the faintest sense of direction and she likely wouldn’t have even known where they were otherwise.
“That’s the plan, darlin’,” he said, with forced gentleness. “You feelin’ all right back there?”
“Mmm,” she answered. “Need to use the facilities soon,” she said. “When we get to Litchfield?”
He swore under his breath. “Don’t say the name of the town aloud again, Aida,” he ordered. “Best we keep that secret. And we’re due for a stop, so we’ll pull over at the clearin’ and water the horses. You can visit the privy then.”
She muttered under her breath, and he gave her a sidelong glance. She quieted.
“Hold!” Cole shouted, holding up a hand. The party came to a stop, as Cole swung down from the horse. “Last stop before we reach our first destination for the night. Up ahead lies the railroad station. We leave Preach and Patricia in town, then move on to where we’ll sleep tonight. Anyone need to relieve themselves or get some water, do it now. I’ll give you fifteen minutes. I want everyone back here promptly.”
Murmurs came back to him, “Yes, sir,” and “You’ve got it, boss,” as the men stretched their legs and secured their horses. Aida began to walk away.
“And where do you think you’re goin’?” Cole asked, trotting to keep up with her.
“To use the facilities,” she said. Her eyes flashed at him as she lifted her skirts up over the leaves. It was no use. They were already caked with dust from the trail, and dragging on the ground. Holding her skirts was likely habit. She continued to walk ahead of him.
“You wait for me,” he ordered, but she didn’t slow. In two large strides he caught up with her, took her by the elbow, and delivered a sharp swat. “I said wait up for me, young lady.”
She froze, her chin lifted high, stock still. “Fine.” She’d obey, but not happily. Someone was looking to get her pretty little backside blistered.
He marched her to the creek, no longer allowing her to have the illusion of freedom, but holding her steady. Soon, when they were alone in a hotel room in Lawson’s, he’d turn on the charm again. But right now, his instincts to make her obey were in full force.
When they reached the water’s edge, she turned and asked him to leave her be.
“One minute,” he said, lifting a finger in warning. “One, and I’ll be back.”
He turned his back to her to give her privacy, counting slowly in his head, listening for any signs of escape. But he could hear her right behind him. She was not running. When he reached sixty, he turned to her. She was just finishing righting herself, when a flash of silver caught his eye. She gasped, but it was too late. The pistol fell from her waist and to the ground.