Clay (22 page)

“Deep in thought, aren’t you?” He had shifted to his side and was gazing at her.

“I was just wondering how I can ever thank you.”

He chuckled. “The pleasure was all mine.”

“I don’t mean for what we just did. I mean for everything, Clay. I’m so indebted to you, and ashamed for how I deceived you into marrying me.”

“Which brings up another issue,” he said in a hard voice. “Tonight has spoiled any chance for an annulment.”

Was that all tonight meant to him? Just a physical release? The thought pained her unexpectedly, and she hardened her heart. Well, this would never happen again. And there was still the option of divorce.

Rebecca pulled the blanket over her shoulders and turned her back to him.

“Hello, inside. Clay, are you in there?”

The shout woke Clay and he sat up. Recognizing Garth’s voice, he stood up and pulled on his Levi’s as he went to the door and opened it to bright sunshine.

“Sure glad to see you,” Garth said. He whistled, and Hawk came out of the trees. “We recognized Scotty’s sorrel, but we weren’t taking any chances.” He glanced in Becky’s direction. She was sitting up, looking confused. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.” He nudged Garth out of the doorway. “Let’s give her a chance to get up and put some clothes on. We got soaked last night in that rainstorm.” He went out and closed the door.

Once outside, the two men crowded around Clay. “Well, what in hell happened?” Garth asked.

“Eagle Claw gave her back to me.”

Garth arched a brow. “Gave her back. Just like that.”

“Yeah, I rode in, he had her tied up, and I told him I came to get my wife.”

Hawk snorted. “And he handed her over.”

“That’s right.”

“What did I miss here?” Garth asked.

“From his conversation, I gathered the Confederacy missed a chance to have a powerful ally in the Sioux Nation. Eagle Claw admires us because we don’t want to live by Washington’s rules.” He shrugged.

“So this war chief of the Sioux—one of the most feared Indians in this territory—went to all the trouble of stealing your wife, then simply handed her over to you when you showed up, because you fought for the Confederacy.”

“He also made me his blood brother. That’s why he gave Becky back to me. He wouldn’t dishonor himself by taking the wife of his blood brother.”

Hawk shook his head. “If that don’t beat all. Just let you ride away, did he?”

“Yep. Oh, yeah, and there was something else. I think he believes Becky is a little mentally unbalanced.”

“That’s the first thing you’ve said that makes any sense,” Garth said. “And he could be right. She hasn’t been herself lately, And having that Indian kidnap her couldn’t have helped.”

“She’s fine, Garth.” Recalling the passionate sex they had last night, Clay couldn’t help smiling.

Becky came outside then, and Garth gave her a bear hug.

“Sure glad to see you, Little Sister.”

Becky’s emotions were written all over her face as she thanked them all for coming to her rescue. “I shall never forget that all of you put your lives at stake.” Her chin was quivering and she looked on the verge of breaking down, but she got through it successfully.

They brewed a pot of coffee, ate some more jerky, and then rode back to rejoin the wagon train. They caught up with it at midday.

Rebecca was jubilant upon seeing her dear friends again. She also made a point of individually greeting her beloved Clementine, mules, and chickens.

By day’s end her routine had returned to normal. But as she lay awake that night, gazing at the stars overhead, she thought of the past two incredible nights she had experienced: one of unbelievable fright, the other of ecstatic bliss.

What was next on this journey that destiny had charted for her?

Etta came over the next morning, excitement glowing in her eyes.

“Becky, I have the most exciting news to tell you. Our parents have given Tommy and me permission to wed! They all agreed that considering how close he came to dying, they wouldn’t stand in the way of our happiness.”

“Oh, honey, that’s wonderful. I’m so happy for both of you. So when’s it going to be? As soon as we reach California?”

“No, Tommy and I don’t want to waste another moment being apart. We’re going to wed tonight.”

“Tonight! But, Becky, Tom is still bedridden. Don’t you want to wait and get married in a lovely wedding gown when he’s feeling better?”

“I have a white dress, that will do fine. And just because Tommy’s still recovering is no reason why we can’t be together. I spoke to Mr. Scott, and he said we can have one of his wagons. He’ll transfer the supplies into Fallon’s wagon.”

“Who’ll drive the wagon?” Rebecca asked. “It’s for certain Tom can’t.”

Etta giggled. “We know that. But several of the men have offered to help drive, and we’ll take our meals with our folks. I can take over nursing Tommy, then. He can sit up now, and he should be able to get out of bed in a couple of weeks.”

“What do your parents think of this?”

“Oh, at first they had their doubts just like you, but Tommy and I convinced all four of them how important it is to us. Nothing would be gained by waiting. Becky, when you love someone, being together is the only thing that matters.” She lowered her head in a blush. “Even if we won’t be able to… you know… make love, at least we’ll be together day and night, and know we belong to each other.” She raised her head and looked directly into Rebecca’s eyes. “You should know how we feel, Becky. Isn’t that how you and Clay feel about each other?”

Rebecca couldn’t look into Etta’s trusting eyes and lie to her. She smiled and hugged the young girl to disguise her emotion.

“Well, if there’s going to be a wedding tonight, I guess I better bake a cake right away.”

“Oh, Mama, Grandma, and Mrs. Davis are already doing all that. Tommy and I want you and Clay to stand up as witnesses for us. Will you do that, Becky?”

Etta’s happiness was contagious. Rebecca reached out and hugged her again. “We’d be delighted to stand up, honey.” With a teasing grin, she added, “Since the groom can’t, somebody has to.” Slipping her arm around Etta’s waist, she said, “Come on, darlin’, we’ve got to go on a treasure hunt. How does that saying go? ‘Something old, something new, something borrowed—’ ”

“Something blue!” Etta cried joyously.

That night the hushed pilgrims gathered in the flickering glow of campfires and listened as a hand-clasped Etta and Tom, whose young hearts were bonded in love, were now bonded in matrimony by the Reverend Kirkland.

As much as Rebecca loved the couple, she couldn’t get into the spirit of the occasion. When the music and dancing began, she wandered away, seeking a quiet spot away from the celebrants, and leaned back against a tree.

“Why aren’t you happy for them, Becky?”

She might have known Clay would follow. He propped an arm against the tree, enveloping her in his shadow.

“I am happy for them, Clay. I just don’t feel this was the time for them to marry.”

“There could never be a better time, Becky.”

She looked up in surprise. “How can you say that, Clay? They’re both still recovering from their neartragedy.”

“And there’s no better medicine for either of them than each other. Becky, one of the things I’ve admired about you is your indomitable spirit. That’s why it surprises me you don’t recognize what’s happened here. Those two young people both took devastating blows, and with the odds against them, they fought through it and showed everybody with this marriage that they’re looking toward the future.

“At a time when everyone was weary and spirits were low, with the prospect of a damn desert still ahead to cross, those two kids have renewed everyone’s faith in our ability to get through whatever lies ahead.”

For a long moment, Rebecca stared into his eyes. If anything could give her the confidence to get through a crisis, it was the warmth and serenity of those brown eyes.

“You’re right. I guess I was thinking so much of their hardships that I never thought beyond that. You know, Clay, sometimes you really surprise me.”

The sound of Tom singing “Beautiful Dreamer” to his bride drifted on the air, as lightly as the breeze that ruffled her hair. Clay reached out and gently brushed the strands off her cheek. “I think I’m about to surprise you again,” he murmured—and lowered his head.

The kiss was gentle—so incredibly tender, it soothed her soul, not aroused her passion.

Wordlessly he stepped back and opened his arms. She stepped into their circle. When she felt them close around her, she pressed her cheek against his chest, and they moved in rhythm to the beautiful music.

In the days that followed, they left the Rocky Mountains and headed into the Great Basin of the Utah Territory, with it’s great Salt Lake—a caldron of white alkali sand that was roasted by the sun reflecting off the Wasatch Mountains surrounding it. The trail was marked by the bleached bones of oxen and mules, and water holes baked into dried clay.

Having made the trip several times, Scotty had ordered every empty space, barrel, pan, and bottle filled with water before they began the crossing. But still, water became more precious than gold. It was the greatest test of physical endurance they had to bear thus far.

What kept them going was pure grit and the promise of an easy passage through the Sierra Nevada mountain range ahead, knowing the Sacramento Valley was on the other side of it.

The end of the trail.

Throughout the ordeal, as one endless day passed into another, those ecstatic hours she had spent in Clay’s arms became like a fading dream to Rebecca. They never spoke of it, and avoided any physical contact with each other.

The sound of distant laughter from the campsite carried to Rebecca’s ears as she strolled along the riverbank. This was their final night together; tomorrow they would reach the city of Sacramento, and the weary travelers were celebrating the occasion.

She crested a rise and gazed with wonderment at this shrine of Nature. As far as the eye could see lay the verdant rolling hills of the Sacramento Valley. Masses of bright poppies, ferns, clover, thistle, and sage carpeted the grassland that stretched between towering woodlands of oak, maple, cypress, and Douglas fir. In the distance the graceful rise of willows and poplars framed the banks of the Sacramento River.

She couldn’t believe they had done it. Exactly one hundred and twenty-eight days ago, they had left Independence, Missouri, with a train of ninety-eight wagons. Forty-nine had finished the perilous journey.

They had anguished emotionally, pushed themselves physically, shed tears of joy and heartache. They’d thirsted and hungered, sweated in the heat of a blazing sun, huddled against the force of blustering winds, and shivered in chilling rains.

They swallowed the alkaline sand of the desert and drank from brackish streams on the prairie. They’d pushed wagons and stock over granite mountain passes, raging rivers, and ankle-deep mud, marking the trail with discarded family heirlooms—and the crosses of the loved ones left behind.

There were times they’d wished they were dead— other times they prayed to be spared. There were times when their hopes plunged to pits of despair—other times their faith soared to infinite heights.

And they had prevailed. The journey had ended.

Rebecca continued her stroll, enjoying the solitude. When she came to a cascading waterfall that fed the flowing river, she sat down on the riverbank and removed her shoes and stockings, then dangled her feet in the river. It was surprisingly warm after those cold mountain rivers and streams.

On impulse, she removed her gown and underpants, and waded into the water. Wishing she had a bar of soap to bathe herself, she closed her eyes and lazed in the water and let it wash over her.

She suddenly sensed she was no longer alone, and opened her eyes in dismay.

Clay stood on the riverbank staring at her. “You’ve strolled pretty far from camp, Becky. You never know what you might encounter.”

“I know there’s nothing to fear here, Clay. This valley is too peaceful.”

“How’s the water?”

“Wonderful.”

He sat down and pulled off his boots and stockings, then striped down to his drawers. “You’re right,” he said, wading in. “It’s almost as warm as a bath. It must be fed by a hot spring.”

Rebecca followed him when he swam over to the waterfall, and disappeared into the rainbow-streaked mist. She took a deep breath and walked into the plunging spray.

To her surprise, she found herself in a cave hollowed into the granite rock. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“Interesting, isn’t it?”

“But noisy,” she said, trying to be heard above the roar of the falls.

He came over to her. “You’re shivering, Becky.”

Too late she realized her wet camisole was clinging to her, the taut tips of her breasts showing through the thin fabric. Her heart began to hammer against her chest. She backed away, but was halted by the granite wall.

“I guess I should get back into the water.”

He moved even closer.

“Clay, this is wrong,” she said breathlessly when he pulled the wet chemise over her head. The granite wall was cold and damp against her back, but did nothing to lessen the heat burning through her

“Why is it wrong, Becky, when we both want this, need this? If you tell me that’s not true, I’ll stop.”

Already weakned by her own desire she said, “I can’t, because it wouldn’t be true. I do want you to make love to me, though I know I shouldn’t.”

His mouth claimed hers and her desire blazed higher. She flung her arms around his neck, matching his passion with her own.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifted her higher and she locked her legs around his hips.

The thrill of her arousal coursed through her, incinerating any reservations. Flesh on flesh, she clung to him, burningly aware of every spot where their bodies touched.

His warm palms cupped her rear and lifted her higher until his mouth found her breasts and teased the sensitive nipples to aching peaks; then he cut off her moans of ecstasy with a kiss filled with urgency, desperation, demand. His masterful tongue set her aflame, and she dug her fingers into the corded sinew of his shoulders for support as she began to tremble. Then he drove into her—and she lost all awareness of time or place. She matched her rhythm to his thrusts as his tempo increased; the escalating mindlessness soared; and their bodies shuddered in the divine release of climax.

He lowered her to her feet, but she couldn’t stand, so he swept her up in his arms. Abandoning his drawers and her chemise, he carried her back through the waterfall and onto the riverbank.

While Clay pulled on his Levi’s, Rebecca quickly put on her gown and slipped into her drawers. Then they sat in the warm sunshine to dry their damp bodies and hair.

“You know as well as I, Clay, that it was a mistake,” she said regretfully.

“I’m not sorry it happened. Why should I feel guilt or regret over being intimate with my wife? It’s part of a husband’s— and a wife’s—obligations, and we both enjoyed it.

“Besides, the damage was done when we made love in the cabin. An annulment is out of reach now Becky.”

Obligation? She was damn tired of being seen that way. She started to put on her shoes and stockings. “But a divorce isn’t out of reach, Clay—and that’s what I intend to do in Sacramento.

“We both have plans to go our separate ways, and an involvement would just make it harder when we part.” She stalked away.

“
If
we part, Mrs. Fraser.” Rising to his feet, Clay followed her.

The discovery of gold nearby in ’49 had turned the once-tiny town of Sacramento into a bustling city whose growth could not be slowed by even three floods and a devastating fire. It became the state capital five years later.

As they drove through the city, seeing the people dodging the flow of carriages and wagons, brick buildings three and four stories high, sidewalks, paved thoroughfares, lampposts, hotels, restaurants, and merchant stores, made Rebecca yearn to jump off the wagon and run from store to store, just to peer into the windows.

Scotty led the train to the stockyards, where everyone would be saying their good-byes. The Garson and Davis families were headed farther southeast, to locate the parcel of land on which they would build their future. Howard Garson had offered to buy Clementine and the two chickens, but Rebecca wouldn’t take his money. She was satisfied just to know that someone she trusted would take good care of the animals.

After a tearful farewell to Etta and Tom, and their promise to write to her as soon as they got situated, Rebecca said goodbye to Clementine, Katharina, and Lady MacBeth.

“How does she know which chicken is which? They look alike to me,” Garth said as he and Clay watched Rebecca’s sorrowful parting with the chickens.

“I once asked her the same thing, and she said that since parents can tell their twins apart, why wouldn’t she be able to tell the hens apart?”

“How long you figure she’s going to stand there, watching them wagons pull away? We’ve got a lot to do.”

“You want to go and tell her that, Little Brother?” Clay said.

“She’s your wife, Brother Clay.”

Mike Scott came over and shook hands. “You boys were a big help on this trip. Don’t know what I’d have done without you. Once you find your sister, if you decide to go back East, I’ll be pulling out of here in a week. I figure we can get across the mountains before the snow starts to fall. You boys are welcome to join us.”

“Can’t make any promises right now, Scotty,” Garth said. “We’ve got to settle this business with our sister, and I’ve been thinking of staying in California for a while.”

“What are your plans, Clay? You and your wife staying in Sacramento, or are you planning a real honeymoon somewhere else?”