Orchids in Moonlight (5 page)

Cord groaned softly and wondered how long he could stand playing the game. He felt as though he was going to bust right out of his britches. "Come on. When a man is going to marry a woman, he's got a right to a few things."

Gritting her teeth, Jaime lifted her skirt higher, but only for an instant before quickly yanking it down. "That... that's all," she whispered.

Cord blinked in surprise. Beneath her petticoats, she was wearing cotton drawers all the way down to her knees. She took this game seriously, by God.

"Well, I think it's time we got down to sampling." She was making him crazy with her playacting, even though anticipation was a sweet kind of torture. Still, a man could take just so much. He indicated her bosom. "I want to make sure they're real, not pushed out with lace hankies stuffed in your dress to make me think they're more than a mouthful. Scoop them out. Let me see."

Jaime gasped at the brazen command. "Sir, you go too far," she exploded, backing towards the door, bristling with anger. "I came here to offer to be your wife, but I didn't expect to be treated with such disrespect.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," she raged on, further infuriated by the way he kept on grinning at her, obviously not caring that he had insulted her. "With your attitude, you'll never find a decent woman to wed."

She turned to go, but, with a delighted laugh, Cord bounded off the bed to grab her. He kissed her again, harder, and this time she struggled against him mightily. All part of the game, he thought, and held her face in a vise-like grip as he assaulted her mouth with his tongue.

Jaime pushed against his chest but to no avail.

He shoved her back across the bed and chuckled. "Forgive my manners. Here I've been asking to see your wares, and I've neglected to show you mine."

Stunned, Jaime could only watch in silence as he rapidly stripped off his doeskin breeches to stand before her in his ankle-length underwear.

Her rapt gaze moved to powerfully molded thighs. His thumbs hooked into the band of his underwear, and he began to peel it downward. Jaime had only a glimpse of a dark mat of hair before she squeezed her eyes tightly shut and began to scream.

The sound was immediately silenced as Cord sprang to cover her mouth with his hand. Harshly, he said, "There are people around here trying to sleep, goddammit. Don't take things so far. I don't want the law crashing through the door."

And then he saw the genuine terror in her eyes, amidst the glimmer of tears, and suddenly he sensed—knew—she was not pretending. Still, he was driven to make sure. "Pete Rowland did send you here, didn't he? For five hundred dollars?"

Jaime, having problems breathing because one of his fingers was right under her nose, could only give her head a tiny shake.

He released her. "Are you telling the truth?"

Jaime sat up, turned her face to the wall, and shakily said, "Please, sir. Cover yourself."

Remembering his state of undress, he yanked up his underwear, then his trousers, and pulled on his shirt too, for good measure. "Answer me, damn it," he commanded. "It had to be Rowland who sent you here."

"I don't know anyone by that name," she said timorously. "Now may I go, please?"

She had started to get up, but he pushed her back and snapped, "No. We need to get to the bottom of this. Something is mighty odd here."

He began to pace about the room, running his fingers through his hair in agitation, then suddenly stopped to stare at her and gauge her reaction as he attempted to confirm, "You
are
a prostitute?"

"Oh, heavens no," she cried, aghast. "Whatever made you think that? It's this dress, isn't it? I told Ella and Hannah—"

"Who are they?"

"Friends of mine. Ella was the one who told me you were looking for a wife to take back to California with you."

"Not wife, sweetheart.
Wives."

"Ella didn't say you were a Mormon."

"I'm not. And they aren't for me, anyway. I'm taking them to California. You were obviously misinformed."

"You don't want one for yourself?" she asked, unable to keep from thinking how marriage to such a strikingly handsome man might not be so bad.

He was quick to confirm, "No, I don't," then shrugged and added, "Look, we both made a mistake. I thought you were somebody else—a prostitute sent in exchange for five hundred off a man's gambling debt. But since you aren't, just get on out of here and let's forget this happened."

Jaime's eyes grew round with wonder. "I didn't know prostitutes got paid that much."

"Ordinarily, they don't." He threw up his hands, not about to converse with her on the subject. "Just go, little lady."

Deciding she had already thrown pride to the wind, Jaime stubbornly persisted. "But I still want to go to California, and I'm willing to marry you to get there."

He laughed. "I'm flattered but not interested. Now it's late, and in case you didn't know it, only ladies of the night are out and about at this hour, so you'd best get on home before somebody else makes a mistake. And they might not be able to resist your charms, if you know what I mean," he added with an arrogant wink.

Jaime made no move to go. "Well, you can take me to California to be some other man's wife."

"You? You're too puny. You wouldn't make it across the Rocky Mountains, much less all the way to California. I need big women, big and healthy. Not dainty, fluffy little girls."

Jaime bristled. "I went there and back when I was still a child."

"That was different. Probably you were with your parents, and they took care of you. But I'm not willing to be your daddy on this trip."

Jaime leaped to her feet. "That's not fair! You aren't even giving me a chance. Maybe I'm not a large person, but I'm certainly not afraid of hard work. And I can make the journey. I swear I can.

"Please," she added desperately. "I really have to go to California."

Taking her arm, he steered her to the door and opened it. "I'm looking for real women," he told her irritably, pushing her into the hall, "and you, sweetheart, just don't meet my requirements. Granted, you're pretty, and men would pay top dollar to have you for a wife, but you'd be nothing but trouble for me on the way west.

"So find yourself a husband and settle down here," he said with finality. "Forget California. It's not for you."

"But—"

He closed the door in her face.

Chapter 3

As
promised
,
Ella had left the back door unlatched, so Jaime was able to slip inside the laundry. Quickly changing into her own clothes, she returned the borrowed gown to the rack. Deciding it was much too late to wake the girls and tell them about her awful experience, she hurried home.

She tried to sleep but was far too angry and upset. Wide awake, she stared into the darkness of her tiny basement room as anger continued to churn over the way Cord Austin had humiliated her.

What burned to the core was his audacity in declaring her physically unfit. Who was he to judge her strength? Her courage? Maybe she wasn't big and husky like some farmers' wives, who worked side by side with their husbands in the fields, toiling like men, but she was certainly no stranger to hard work.

Well, she brooded, maybe he would never know about it, but she would eventually make the trip to California. She had a whole year to plan for it before the first wagons rolled out from Independence in the spring. Meanwhile, there might even be a letter from her father.

As she lay there, dwelling on the experience she knew she'd never forget, Jaime thought how there was something else about Cord Austin she would always remember—how he had held her, touched her. Thinking about it sent strange little shivers of delight up and down her spine. She told herself she was being silly. He had been expecting a woman being paid to make love to him, that's all. His behavior certainly had not been motivated because he found her desirable, for heaven's sake.

Trying to get him off her mind, Jaime sadly turned her thoughts to how much she was going to miss Hannah and Ella.

* * *

The next morning, Jaime rushed to the laundry, anxious to talk to the girls, but they had gone to see about signing up for the wagon train and did not return till mid-afternoon. With a grin and a nod to let her know they had been accepted, they threw themselves into their work, and there was no time for conversation.

At last, they were able to gather upstairs. Jaime didn't care that she'd be late getting home. She had been waiting all day to explain. "You were wrong. Cord Austin wasn't looking for a wife for himself. He—"

"We know, we know." Ella cut her off as she gave her what was meant to be a consoling hug. "We found that out this morning. He was there, making final decisions as to who was accepted and who wasn't, and he made it clear he wasn't in the market for a wife."

Hannah was quick to attempt to soothe by adding, "But it's nothing to worry about, Jaime. All you have to do is go to the depot where we went this morning and sign up to go with us."

"Then you're really going?" Jaime looked from one to the other.

Ella nodded. "Yes, but you can too. There's still room for more. I heard Mr. Austin telling someone he was real disappointed with the turnout so far."

With a little laugh, Hannah said, "I guess it didn't take long for him to clear things up last night, did it? I could tell he's a stern sort. Handsome, too. Some of the girls were talking about how it's a pity he's not looking for a wife himself, because they'd leap at the chance." Her words trailed off as she saw the look on Jaime's face. "What's wrong? He wasn't rude, was he? I mean, it was an honest mistake."

Jaime was not about to confide the entire encounter, afraid they would suspect she hadn't altogether minded some of it. Instead, she related only her frustration. "He says I can't go, because he thinks I'm puny."

"Puny?" Ella said.

Hannah chimed in. "What did he mean?"

Jaime gestured helplessly. "He says I'm not strong enough to make the trip, that's what he meant. Look at the two of you. You're taller, larger. It doesn't matter I'm a hard worker. He called me a 'fluffy little girl,'" she added bitterly.

Ella scowled. "He's crazy."

Hannah spoke up. "In all fairness, I can understand his reasoning. It
is
a long, hard journey. Six months, two thousand miles, traveling fifteen to twenty miles a day. And we've heard about all the potential dangers along the way: Indians, outlaws, bad weather sometimes, rough terrain, dust storms." She shuddered to recall the tales of woe and admitted, "I've had second thoughts myself."

"He doesn't know Jaime," Ella argued. "She works as hard as we do, and she never complains. And when we're done for the day, she's slaving for her aunt till all hours of the night, then back up at dawn. Where she's concerned, he isn't being fair."

"I agree, but he's still in charge. She'll just have to wait till next spring for someone not quite so fussy."

Jaime asked fearfully, "Then this wagon train is definitely the last one this year?"

"I'm afraid so." Hannah said.

"When will you be leaving?" Jaime dreaded the answer.

For a moment, neither girl spoke, but Ella finally, reluctantly, told her. "Next week."

Jaime swallowed a cry of protest. She could already feel an emptiness in her heart.

Fighting the selfish instinct to throw her arms about them and burst into tears and beg them not to go, she moved swiftly toward the door. "Well, I'm happy for you, I really am," she lied. "I guess I'd better be going now. Aunt Arista is going to be wondering where I am, Thanks for trying, for helping me with the dress and everything."

Ella cried, "No, wait. Don't leave yet, Jaime. We've got to think of a way you can go with us."

Jaime turned slowly, desperately willing to listen to any ideas they had. Maybe, she dared hope, they could convince Mr. Austin to change his mind. After all, they'd said he wasn't happy with the small number of volunteer wives so far.

"What are you thinking of?" Hannah asked Ella, hoping she wasn't getting Jaime's hopes up in vain. "He said she couldn't go."