Trail of Kisses Page 13

  “Who knows why bad people do the things they do, swee— Lynne? If the world was full of nothing but good people, it’d be a wonderful place, I’ll admit. But it isn’t. We’ve got to make the best of what we’ve got.”

  Even as his words soothed her, they stirred a deeper anger. “And that’s what you think? That it’s simply too bad that there are bad people in this world?”

  “That’s not—”

  “Bad people like you?”

  He blinked and gawked at her. “Now hold on a second. How did I end up on your bad list?”

  Guilt gnawed a hole in her gut at the hurt in his expression. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, it was just that….

  “I never asked to feel anything for you,” she sobbed, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. “I was supposed to fall in love with a gallant man from a good family that my family approved of. We were supposed to have a peaceful life without war or conflict or… or….” Fear. She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

  Cade took his time replying. The strain around his eyes and mouth belied a level of self-control that Lynne knew she didn’t have. At last he took a deep breath and said, “There’s nothing wrong with my family. They’re as good as any.”

  Her guilt stabbed harder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply—”

  “I know you didn’t,” he said. “I don’t think you mean half the things you say or do.”

  “That’s not true, I—”

  Before she could defend herself, he pulled her into his lap and kissed her. The last of her protest died in a moan against his mouth. He was gentle yet firm, both arms around her back to keep her pressed against him as his mouth slanted over hers. There was passion in his kiss, but it was more tender, more gentle than his other kisses. She relaxed in his arms, letting the warmth of his body and the heady taste of his tongue as it slid along hers bring her comfort. The rain was nothing more than a sprinkle now as he cradled her and kissed her, but the sun might as well have been shining and light breezes blowing across the prairie for how safe she felt.

  Cade’s arms were the only things that felt safe anymore. They were the only place that felt like home.

  “No, I can’t,” she whispered, pushing away.

  To her surprise, Cade let her go, though he was plainly aggravated when he asked, “Why? Why can’t you just let yourself go for one minute?”

  Because it would be admitting defeat. Because it would mean she was what she had always feared becoming: a coward, subject to the whims of others.

  “It’s not right,” she said aloud, struggling to stand in her sodden clothes, her hair in disarray. Her doll was still in her arms, as broken as ever. “It’s not right and you know it. What we did, what I want to do. There are rules to society for a reason.”

  Cade stood with her. “Rules are meant to be broken when times call for it.”

  His excuse wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t help her when she needed to pull herself together.

  “I’m sorry, Cade,” she said, backing away from him. “There are things that need to be done. Everything is scattered, and we need to find it and put it back together.”

  She almost didn’t hear him when he mumbled, “You can say that again.”

  For a heartbeat, she thought about asking him what he meant, about challenging him the way she would have a few weeks ago when they had first set out. Instead, she shook her head and turned away, hugging her doll close. Her life was fractured enough already. Now she had to put it back together.

  Chapter Ten

  Everything was a mess. What the tornado destroyed in less than an hour took the wagon train more than a day to clean up. Lynne helped as much as she could with those who had lost more than her, but she had her own possessions to find and repack. Her wagon had turned over with enough force to spill her things across the grass, and while the tornado had left some of it alone, a few of her belongings, like her doll, had been blown so far away that it was a wonder they were found at all.

  Callie was luckier. Her wagon and John’s had hardly been touched. Lynne was with her when several people remarked on it, but Callie just shrugged and said that tornadoes were like that and roamed across the open grass helping others find their lost things. For the rest of that day, Lynne found herself wishing that she could be as strong as her friend.

  There were a few bright moments after the storm, when the sun came out again. People who thought they had lost precious belongings for good found them again, like a man who stumbled across his wife’s favorite bonnet while scouring the debris in the field, or a girl who was reunited with her favorite doll. Lynne was happy for her, even as she wrapped her own precious doll’s head in gauze like a bandage and laid her carefully on top of torn and soiled linens and her Papa’s ruined portrait in her hope chest.

  “With care like that, you’ll make a fine mother someday,” Cade commented over her shoulder as she closed the lid on her doll.

  The comment, said with such tenderness and obviously meant to soothe, sat uncomfortably on Lynne’s raw nerves. She stood from where she’d been kneeling in the grass beside the wagon and turned to face him.

  The words she wanted to say—that she wouldn’t have any children, that she would be a terrible mother… even a simple ‘thank you’—wouldn’t come.

  “I’ll need you and Ben to lift my hope chest back into the wagon,” was all she could manage.

  Cade shifted on his spot, running a hand through his hair. His hat was long gone. She waited for whatever bittersweet thing he would say next.

  “Sure. We’ll take care of that.”

  That was it. He walked off without another word, circling around the wagon to where Ben brushed the frightened oxen to calm them. Cade spoke to Ben in a voice too low for her to hear, then the two of them returned to lift her hope chest, all without further conversation.

  Lynne wilted at the silence. A moment later, anger rushed in to fill the ache in her heart. How could she stand there feeling sorry for herself because Cade Lawson didn’t speak to her, didn’t give her a chance to argue with him? She didn’t want to be angry, but at the same time she did. It made no sense any way she looked at it, which only made her restless and frustrated.

  Mr. Evans didn’t order them to start moving again until two days later. There were wagons that needed repairs and horses and oxen that had wandered far from their ramshackle camp that needed to be found before they were in any shape to continue the journey. A few people had been killed as well, and several more injured. Emma had been hurt when her family’s wagon was blown over, her leg crushed under falling boxes. She insisted she would be fine, but her mother and Dr. Meyers were far more worried.

  They did move on, but with heavy hearts and the anxiety of everything they’d been through hanging over them. Lynne was glad that Clover hadn’t been hurt and that she could ride, keeping her thoughts to herself. Cade was never far from her, but he didn’t say much, for a change. She didn’t like the troubled expression he wore. It made her want to comfort him and let him know everything would be all right. If only she was sure that everything would be all right.

  “Would you like this last potato?” she asked him at supper on their second day of travel after the storm. It was only a gesture, but maybe it would help.

  “Sure,” he answered.

  She stood from her barrel where they ate in front of their own small fire with Ben instead of sharing a meal with one of the larger groups and transferred the potato from her plate to his.

  “Thanks.”

  They went on eating in silence. After weeks of tasting the same bacon and potatoes and stale bread, Lynne hardly noticed what was going into her mouth anymore.

  “I was thinking of making coffee in a minute here,” Cade spoke without looking at her. “Think you’ll want some?”

  “No, thank you. I might just go to bed,” she said.

  “Suit yourself.”

  More silence. If the journey continued on like this, Lynne wouldn’t need the Briscoe
Boys and their threats to kill her. Ben was no help either. He did nothing but sit and stare at the fire, sullen and moody.

  When Pete Evans strolled up to their silent trio, both Lynne and Cade were eager to give him a place to sit and offer him something to eat.

  “No time.” Pete waved them off. “I’ve just stopped by to tell you about a game we’re going to be playing.”

  Lynne and Cade exchanged confused looks in spite of themselves.

  “A game?” Cade asked.

  “Yeah,” Pete said without any joy. “That tornado really did a number on people’s morale. The mess with the miners hasn’t helped much either.”

  Lynne’s face and neck went red and hot, though whether from embarrassment or indignation at Mr. Evans’s comment, she wasn’t sure.

  “What kind of game is going to fix that?” Cade asked.

  At first Lynne thought she heard Mr. Evans mumble, “Hell if I know.” He cleared his throat and said, “It’s a giving game. One of the farmers’ wives came up with the idea because so many folks lost things in the tornado.”

  “A giving game?” Lynne sat straighter.

  “Yep. Mrs. Marshall is gonna start it tonight by giving something to someone in need. Then that person will give something they have to someone else who needs it, and they’ll give something else to the next person in need.” He crossed his arms and shook his head, but by the faint glint in his travel-hardened eyes, Mr. Evans liked the idea. “That way everyone who’s lost something will gain something new and those folks who have lots to share won’t feel uncomfortable about what they’ve got, or so I’m told.”

  Lynne opened her mouth to reply just as Cade said, “It sounds like a good idea to me,” taking the words right out of her mouth. He glanced to her and she pressed her lips into a tight line.

  “So that’s all starting tonight,” Mr. Evans went on. “Just wanted to let you know. I’ve got to tell everyone else, so you take care.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Evans,” Lynne rushed to get the last word in this time. She peeked at Cade to see if he had been in the middle of speaking this time as she had been before. She got a short, sharp thrill when it looked like he had. A piece of her worry settled back into calm.

  “Oh, one other thing.” Mr. Evans turned for a final word, looking to Lynne. “You’re friends with Miss Emma Sutton, aren’t you?”

  “I am.” Lynne nodded.

  “Just thought you should know that when I told her and her mama that there’s an abandoned way station along the path that we’ll probably cross tomorrow, her mama decided that Emma and her and Dr. Meyers should stop and rest there for a few days or weeks, until the next wagon train comes along. So they’ll be staying behind. My man Ike knows enough doctoring to get us through the rest of the journey.”

  “Oh.” Lynne was surprised at the strength of the disappointment that grabbed hold of her. “Thank you for letting me know.”

  “Ma’am.” Mr. Evans tipped his hat, then moved on.

  Several more minutes of silence followed before Cade said, “I’m sorry about your friend.”

  “She’s only injured,” Lynne replied, standing and beginning to clear up their supper things. “I have half a mind to ask if she’d like me to stay behind with her, but—”

  “No.” Cade shook his head.

  “—but,” Lynne continued with a sharp, scolding glance, “I’m eager to get to Denver City as quickly as possible.”

  When Cade looked as though he would argue her point, Lynne pivoted to face Ben.

  “I bet you’re eager to get to Denver City as well, aren’t you, Ben?”

  Ben squirmed on his barrel, frowning. “No, ma’am.”

  Lynne blinked at him. “You’re not?”

  The young man’s frown deepened to a scowl as he stared at the glowing embers of their campfire. “I’m in no hurry. Not when there’s work to be done here.”

  “If it’s a job you’re after, I’m sure any of the mines would hire a strong young man like you,” Cade said.

  Ben frowned at him. “Not when I got to go back home.”

  “To Missouri?” Lynne asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. It’s where my family’s from.”

  A hitch caught in Lynne’s throat. “And they’re waiting for you?”

  “Yes’m.”

  Her family was waiting in St. Louis, but not for her. They were waiting for her brothers to come home from war, waiting for the rest of the Briscoe Boys to be caught and punished. And she had been sent away.

  “That’s very loyal of you,” Lynne said.

  Ben shrugged. “’sides, you’re here.”

  “Well, then.” She tried to smile, but could only manage it for a moment. “How sweet of you.” She cleared her throat. “I think I’ll turn in early.”

  “Lynne, wait.” Cade hopped up from his seat and followed her to the back of the wagon. “Why don’t you stay out here and sit with me for a while.”

  “Sit with you?” she murmured. “We know where that sort of things leads.”

  “All right, then.” He wasn’t deterred. “Since you suggested it, why don’t you stay out here and rest in my arms and kiss me in the moonlight?”

  Her heart wanted to leap out of her chest at the idea of spending the night in Cade’s arms. She turned away instead.

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Ben wouldn’t approve.”

  Cade made a sound that was something between a laugh and a snort. “That boy’s silly crush doesn’t hold a candle to the way I feel about you.”

  Lynne lowered her eyes, heart aching. “I know,” she whispered. “What I don’t know is what to do about it.”

  Wracking her brain to figure out what to do about it kept her from falling asleep for hours. What alternatives did she have? If she gave in to her heart and let herself get close to Cade, she would be a coward who hid behind a man. And if she didn’t? If she didn’t, she would be a fool.

  The next morning dawned cheerfully. The mood in the wagon train had already started to improve as the giving game began. Lynne saw more smiles than she had all week as they ate their breakfast, gathered their things, and set out again across the endless prairie. Her heart seemed to be the only one that was still heavy. Hers and Cade’s.

  They had only just stopped to rest the animals in the heat of the day beside an abandoned shack that leaned close to the river when Ben approached her.

  “Ma’am,” he said, shuffling his feet and holding his hands behind his back.

  Lynne finished checking Clover’s saddle and giving her rump a pat before turning to the boy with a distracted, “Yes? What is it?”

  Ben frowned at his shuffling feet, face flushed behind his freckles, and drew a half-wilted wild daisy from behind his back. Without looking at her, he said, “This is for you.”

  In spite of herself and all her worries, Lynne’s heart warmed. “Really? For me?”

  “Yes’m.” Ben nodded. He peeked up at her, still not quite smiling. Judging from the way he held the flower with shaking fingers and darted looks right and left, the poor thing was nervous.

  Lynne took the sad flower and held it to her nose, pretending to sniff it. She should have been bothered that the boy had a sweet spot for her, but the kindness of his gift pushed those thoughts from her mind.

  “Thank you, Ben. I needed that.”

  What would Cade say, she wondered? Hard on the heels of that thought came the notion that if Cade had been the one to bring her a flower, she would have smiled twice as wide, been twice as touched. Her heart would have leapt out of her heart and sung. Why hadn’t Cade brought her a flower?

  She turned toward Clover to give her one last check.

  “Uh, ma’am,” Ben stopped her.

  She turned to him. “Yes?”

  He nodded to the flower. “You’re supposed to give someone else something now, remember?”

  “Oh. Yes. You’re right.” Her smile slipped just a little. So much for thinking the boy was doing something nice
for her. It was just a part of the bigger game.

  Still, she wouldn’t let that dampen the spirit of the gift.

  Again she turned back to Clover, and again Ben stopped her.

  “Ma’am, just thought you might like to know that your friend Miss Sutton’s getting ready to stay behind.”

  “Right.” Lynne smiled at him. “Thank you for reminding me.”

  When Ben turned to go, she broke off most of the stem of the wilted daisy and speared it through the bun at the back of her neck. Knowing her, she would forget about it and brush out dried daisy petals in the morning after sleeping on it. Even that thought made her smile. And it was good to smile again.

  She finished with Clover, then marched to the back of the wagon. Cade was several yards down the line, helping Mrs. Sutton move a few boxes of Emma’s things from their wagon to the beat up shack where they would be staying. He turned and met her eyes just as she glanced to him. Heat flushed her cheeks, but she didn’t look away.

  A confused expression crossed Cade’s face and he gestured to the back of his head, then pointed to her. She couldn’t help it. She patted the daisy in her bun and grinned at him. When he smiled back, her heart flipped in her chest. It was deliciously inconvenient, but as she pulled herself up into the back of the wagon, something settled in her heart. It was almost as though things were back to normal.

  She could give a gift to Emma as part of the giving game. She would have given her friend something anyhow, but Ben’s gift reminded her. Lynne had only known Emma a short time, but she liked the shy young woman immensely. She hoped to stay in touch with her as she made a life for herself in Denver City and Emma built one in Oregon. She crawled to her hope chest against the back of the wagon and lifted the lid to find something that she wouldn’t mind parting with for her new friend.

  Underneath a pile of grass-stained handkerchiefs and torn lace ruined by the tornado rested a packet of stationary. She had brought it from home with the intention of writing to her Papa every day, but with everything that had been going on since the tornado, since Ft. Kearny, really, she hadn’t so much as looked at it. She wasn’t sure she had many letters in her at this point. The gilt-edged paper would be just the gift for Emma.