Trail of Longing (Hot on the Trail Book 3) Page 11

  As expected, Russ turned a violent shade of puce. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he choked on whatever he might say to defend himself. Russ knew as well as Dean did that there was no possible way he could defend being caught red-handed defiling Sir Jeremy’s daughter. There was no way he could defend attempting to make off with a large roll of cash slipped into a silver box that belonged to the gentleman with whom the Podmores were staying in Baltimore either. The only reason charges had not been brought was because neither Sir Jeremy nor his host had wanted the scandal exposed.

  When the silence went on too long, Mrs. Sutton asked, “Who is Sir Jeremy Podmore?”

  Russ went through another round of choking and stammering before coming up with, “He was an acquaintance in Baltimore while Dean and I were in medical school. Dean was rather fond of his daughter,” he told Emma, leaning closer to her.

  “Victoria was a sweet girl,” Dean said, refusing to be backed into a corner. He trusted Emma enough not to fly into a fit of jealousy over the mention of every woman he had once danced with. “As I understand it, soon after returning to England, she was engaged to an earl.”

  Emma’s shoulders relaxed and she let out a breath. Well, perhaps she was a little concerned about those other women, but he would prove to her she had no need to be.

  “Yes,” Russ rushed on. “And a good thing too. I’m afraid the poor child grew far too attached to me in our brief acquaintance.”

  Another bolt of anger shot through Dean. The entire supper was turning into a thunderstorm with flash after flash of irritation and fury. “You broke more than that poor girl’s heart,” he said as quietly as he could. No one besides Emma and Russ heard him.

  “I will not sit here and have my honor questioned by a man who was dismissed from army service for mental deficiency,” Russ declared loud enough for half the wagon train to hear.

  “No one is stopping you from leaving,” Dean replied, still quiet.

  “This is preposterous.” Russ stood, setting aside his bowl of stew and spilling half of it on Emma’s skirt. “Madam,” he turned to Mrs. Sutton, “I simply cannot condone being spoken to in such a manner by a man like this.”

  “Spoken to how?” Mrs. Sutton asked, at a genuine loss.

  “I thought he was your long-lost best friend,” Katie added. Her eyes glittered with mischief.

  “Even friends have their disagreements,” Russ answered Katie, ignoring Mrs. Sutton. “Either he leaves or I do.”

  “Oh!” Mrs. Sutton must have grasped the seriousness of the situation. She stood, crossing to lay a hand on Russ’s arm. “Oh, please don’t go. You are such jolly company. And a fine doctor with a bright future. I’m sure we can work something out.”

  “Well….” Russ hesitated, sniffing.

  It was enough to make Dean’s stew turn sour in his mouth. He’d seen the affronted act far too many times to doubt it was anything more than a means of garnering attention. Dean stood, taking his stew bowl to one of the young Boyle children who was collecting them.

  “There’s no need to cause a scene and ruin these fine people’s supper,” he said. “I’ll go. Mrs. Sutton.” He crossed to Emma’s mother, bowing to her as gracefully as he could manage. “I thank you for your patience and wish you a good evening. Mrs. Boyle, Katie.” He nodded to the others. His gaze lingered on Emma. “Emma.”

  Her eyes filled with regret and her mouth slipped open, but nothing managed to come out. If she wanted him to stay, if she so much as whispered for him not to leave, he would sit right back down and suffer through whatever Russ wanted to fling at him. But he needed her to say it.

  At length, she pressed her lips closed and sighed. That was all Dean needed. His heart sank. He nodded to her again, then strode out of the camp and into the falling twilight.

  What was he thinking engaging Russ in his own game anyhow? As long as he’d known him, the man had been a master at twisting words and making the truth sound like lies and lies like the truth. He would have to do a better job of keeping away from Russ going forward. If only there was a way to do that without letting Emma down.

  He crossed over to the outer edge of the circle of wagons and was nearly at the Murphys’ wagon, where his things were, when Emma caught up.

  “Dean, wait,” she called out.

  Surprised, Dean turned and stayed where he was until she jogged up to him. Her face was still flushed and she paused to catch her breath. Dean wanted to reach out to her, but unlike when he’d stolen a kiss earlier, there were more than just young children close enough to see them now.

  “I’m sorry for all that,” Emma said at last. “My mother, Dr. Sandifer, all of it.”

  Prickles of anger zipped down his back. She spoke as if she were excusing Russ. It left an uneasy feeling in his gut.

  “I’ve known Russ for far too long,” he said. “I should have known he’d dredge up ancient history and distort it all at the same time.”

  “Yes, but I’m afraid my mother persists in believing him,” Emma said.

  “Do you?” Dean asked, the need to know suddenly overpowering.

  She hesitated. “I don’t think so. No, I don’t.”

  He couldn’t stop himself from frowning. “Those are two different answers. I like the second one more.”

  Bless her, but Emma had the good grace to smile, even though she lowered her head. “I don’t think you would do any of the things he has said you would,” she said. “At least the Dean Meyers that I know wouldn’t do them. But… but we have not known each other long enough to have learned all of each other’s stories.”

  Her answer was wise and correct, and it grated on him all the same. He took her hands, which were folded in front of her, running his thumb along her knuckles.

  “Tomorrow, why don’t you and I sneak out ahead of the rest of the wagons? We can walk together and tell each other stories, get to know each other.”

  Her eyes lit with joy one moment and lowered in hesitation the next. “I… I don’t think Mother would allow it.”

  “But wouldn’t it make you happy?” he asked.

  She lifted her eyes to meet his. “Of course it would make me happy. Nothing could make me happier. It’s just that….”

  “That?” he prompted her.

  Emma shook her head. “I’m not as bold as Katie. I know you keep telling me I’m brave, and I want to be, I promise you. But Mother has had so little joy these last few years, what with the war, and everything Alice has been through. She’s making light of Father’s business troubles too. The truth is, Father was almost sunk when the war started. I love my parents, and I can’t cross my mother just to make myself happy. But I will find a way to spend time with you, if I can. I—”

  She blinked, perhaps realizing that she’d just spoken more words to him in one go than she had since they left the way station. Every one of her words made his heart sing, but whether with joy or in lament was another story.

  “I shouldn’t rush things,” he conceded, forcing himself to smile. He lifted one of Emma’s hands to his lips. “Forgive me for being impatient. I should know better than to think that we could find privacy in a wagon train.”

  “As long as you’ll forgive me for—”

  “Emma.” Her mother’s voice snapped through what was well on its way to being a beautiful moment. Mrs. Sutton rounded the corner of a wagon, her hands on her hips. “Emma Sutton, whatever are you doing? Come back to the camp this minute. Russ was just asking about you. You can’t expect your poor friend Katie to entertain him for long.”

  Emma turned to Dean with a mournful look, a look of desperation. He squeezed her hands.

  “Go on,” he said. “We’ll finish this discussion and many others later.”

  “Are you sure?” she whispered.

  He tilted his head. Her mother was close enough now that anything he said would be held against him. “I am.” He let her hands go and took a final step back. “Good night, Mrs. Sutton,” he said before giving Emma a final look, then march
ing off.

  “What are you thinking?” he heard Mrs. Sutton say behind him. “You heard what Russ said about him. We were wrong to set our sights on that one, especially now that there is….”

  He moved out of hearing distance, glad for it. A few weeks ago, it had seemed as simple as sunshine to woo and win Emma. Now it looked as though it would be an uphill battle against an enemy that played dirty.

  Chapter Ten

  They crossed the juncture of the North and South Platte Rivers a few days later. Under normal circumstances, Emma would have been beside herself with worry as she floated with the Boyles’ wagon across the slow-moving, muddy water, but her thoughts were a thousand miles away. She kept herself busy with work, and Katie was up to her usual, distracting antics, both before and after the crossing, but it wasn’t enough to take Emma’s mind off things. She continuously looked for more and more to do so that she didn’t have to think about the dilemma of Dean and Russ and her mother’s expectations.

  “It should be simple,” she confided in Katie a few days after they had moved on from the crossing, heading toward Wyoming, Ft. Laramie, and the next stage of their journey. “I’m fond of Dean, very fond, and I can’t stand Russ.”

  “Aye, you’re right,” Katie agreed in her Irish lilt. “It should be as simple as anything. A woman knows her own heart. So why don’t we march up there to the front of the wagon train where your sweetheart is waiting and have you tell him everything that’s in your heart?”

  The prospect made Emma feel sick with alarm. “Oh no, no, I couldn’t.”

  Katie laughed aloud, earning a teasing, “Keep it down over there, Katie Boyle,” from Aiden, who walked several yards behind, playing his fiddle for the children walking with him.

  “Shut yer gob, Aiden Murphy,” Katie tossed back over her shoulder to him. “I’m having a serious conversation with Emma here and we don’t need you interfering.”

  “Serious, eh?” Aiden paused in his playing for a moment. “Well, that is something.” He raised his fiddle to his chin and went on with a new song, a serious song.

  “That Aiden.” Katie huffed out a breath and shook her head.

  Emma peeked over her shoulder at the dark-haired, blue-eyed Irishman. She had more than a few suspicions about his feelings for Katie, and about hers for him. “If you’re so concerned about me blurting out my jumble of emotions to Dean,” she whispered to Katie as they walked on, “then why don’t you share how you feel with Aiden?”

  Katie laughed. “Aiden? No, no, no, you have that one wrong. I’ve known the man my entire life. I’m not about to get romantic feelings for the boy who’s been there since I knew what boys were. I want to fall in love with a handsome stranger, a valiant hero, someone who will whisk me off to a life of adventure and excitement. Not Aiden.”

  “He’s very handsome,” Emma pressed.

  Katie snorted. “So’s the dog we had back home in Ballymote.”

  Emma bit her lip to keep herself from laughing or contradicting everything her friend said.

  “But we’re not talking about me,” Katie went on, turning to her with a scolding, mischievous look. “Though you’re mighty clever for turning the conversation like that. I see what you did, but I won’t let you get away with it.” Emma couldn’t help but giggle with guilt. “This is about you and your fine doctor, and I say a good, strong declaration of feelings is what’s needed here.”

  “I couldn’t,” Emma protested. She heated at the very thought. “What if he laughs at me? What if he’s angry? Or if he’s changed his mind and doesn’t want me because of Russ, or worse, my mother?”

  Katie laughed. “And what it I sprouted antlers and turned purple? I’ve seen the way that young man looks at you. Would that there was a man who looked at me like that.”

  “There is,” Emma added under her breath. She peeked over her shoulder to Aiden again, finding him smiling at the two of them. He switched back to playing a cheerful tune.

  Katie ignored her. “Just you wait. I’m going to make certain that you say what needs to be said, and your fine doctor will reply with such joy, we may need to stage a wedding right here on the trail.”

  Emma thought back to the wedding of her friend Callie Lewis to John Rye, which had happened early in her journey west. It seemed like a lifetime ago. She wondered how the two of them had gotten along, if they regretted marrying in such haste. It would be ten times worse if she were to marry Dean in haste only to have him regret it later.

  She hoped that Katie would let the whole thing drop, but when they stopped for midday, those hopes were dashed.

  “Come on.” Katie grabbed her arm as soon as they were finished bringing the stools and cooking supplies down from the Boyles’ wagon. “He’s up there talking to Aiden and my father. Now is the time.”

  Katie tugged her arm, dragging her up around the next camp in the train on the way to where Dean and Aiden were now engaged in some sort of animated discussion.

  “Katie, no,” Emma gasped. “No, I couldn’t.”

  “You’re just going to tell him that you adore him,” Katie teased her. “Think of it like brushing out tangled hair. It might hurt for a moment, but you’ll feel so much better when it’s done.”

  Emma swallowed and let herself be pulled along. Her hands went numb and her throat closed up. Katie may have had a point. She could just tell Dean how she felt, and then it would all be out in the open. She could deal with the consequences with Dean’s help. She was certain Katie would help her as well, and Aiden too. All she had to do was march up to Dean and tell him that she loved him, tell him—

  “Miss Emma. How lovely to see you here. Where are you going?” Russ stepped directly into her path. He positioned his big frame directly between her and Dean, completely blocking him from sight.

  “Dr. Sandifer,” Emma gasped.

  “Russ,” he laughed. “How many times must I remind you to call me Russ? I’m beginning to think you’re a bit touched in the head, my dear.”

  “Of all the nerve,” Katie growled at her side, taking her hand in solidarity.

  Russ ignored Katie entirely. “Where are you going?” he asked Emma bluntly.

  Something in the sharpness of his smile hinted to Emma that he knew exactly where she had been going. It would have been hard enough to walk up to Dean and pour her heart out in the middle of the day for no reason. It was impossible to admit as much to Russ.

  “I… we… Katie and I were going to listen to Aiden play his fiddle,” she fumbled.

  “Yes,” Katie backed her up. “In fact, I hear that Aiden and his band plan to give a concert once we reach Ft. Laramie.”

  “I was just speaking with the trail boss,” Russ said, eyes fixed on Emma, still ignoring Katie. “We should reach Ft. Laramie tonight if we push. I would be honored if you would attend this concert with me.”

  “Oh… well… I don’t know,” Emma scrambled for words. Think of something, she pleaded with herself. Anything. “I’m not feeling well,” she said. “I… I don’t think I’ll attend the concert after all.”

  “You poor thing,” Katie rushed to support her. “Let’s get you to Dr. Meyers as quickly as possible so he can—”

  “Not feeling well?” Russ brightened. He puffed out his chest and smiled as though he’d been given good news. “Why then, my dear, you’ve come to the right place. I am a doctor, after all, and I would be honored to treat you.”

  For a moment, Emma felt sick in earnest. “You’re too kind, Russ, but perhaps I’ll just go back to the Boyles’ wagon and ride with the children for a while.” She turned to head back down the line of wagons, giving Katie a scolding look.

  “Nonsense.” Russ caught her arm and pulled her to a stop. His grip hurt. “This is a brilliant opportunity, simply brilliant. Ladies and gentlemen!” he shouted in his deep, booming voice. He was loud enough to be heard in Independence, let alone throughout the camp. “Gather ’round, gather ’round. We have a unique opportunity before us today.”

&nbs
p; Fear made Emma’s hands and feet numb. “This is unnecessary,” she whispered.

  “No, no, my dear, you are ill. I have the cure. This is very necessary,” Russ said, then shouted, “Gather ’round and you will see a demonstration of the finest cure-all that this great country has ever seen.”

  “Not this again,” Katie grumbled.

  “Please, stop,” Emma begged him in a voice that was barely more than a wisp.

  “She doesn’t want to take your medicine,” Katie seconded. “And we don’t want to hear you blab about it.”

  “It is an astounding cure,” Russ insisted, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  To Emma’s horror, almost everyone within the sound of Russ’s voice left what they were doing to see what was going on. Worse still, farther up the line, Aiden had stopped playing and he and Dean got up to join the crowd. They both wore a frown, Dean’s filled with concern for her and suspicion for Russ.

  Russ dashed back to the wagon beside them.

  “Just you watch this.” Katie shook her head and rolled her eyes as he fished through its contents. “And every time he blathers on, people actually listen. It’s a disgrace.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  Emma turned to go, but before she could get away, Russ retuned with a blue bottle. Its label was printed with bold letters and a sketched picture of a doctor offering a spoonful of medicine to a woman wrapped in a shawl. He grabbed Emma’s arm and tugged her to stand beside him. As soon as he let go, she tried to inch away, but curiosity-seekers blocked her escape.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, gather ’round, gather ’round for a demonstration of the return of health,” Russ said as though reciting lines in a play. “Once you see what Sandifer’s Special Serum can do, you will be clamoring for a bottle of your very own. It cures aches and pains in the joints and nerves, soothes upset tummies and sore heads. Taken as a tonic, it restores vim and vigor to the weak and exhausted. Missing your youth? Sandifer’s Special Serum. Not as quick in the mind as you once were? Sandifer’s Special Serum. Gentlemen, feeling less vital than you once were? Sandifer’s Special Serum.”