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“Hush. I don’t want to hear anything more about it.”
When Cole entered the big tent and saw Beth, he had an immediate, unexpected, erection. Lord a-mighty! He was reacting like some young pup who had never had a woman. Yet in all fairness he sure as hell hadn’t expected to see his hostess in such a costume. Howard had warned him to be prepared for anything, and he should have listened. She’d never catch him off guard like this again.
In an effort to take his mind off the fetching female, Cole glanced around the interior of the tent. It was like stepping into another world. A large rug covered the floor, and an assortment of brass objects were scattered about. He had no idea what they were used for. The furniture consisted of a lot of colorful pillows and low tables and chairs.
Having regained his composure, he let his gaze shift back to the object of his discomfort. Bethany Alexander was reclined against some of the pillows. Her skirt, made of green-and-blue sparkling material, barely covered her hips, leaving a clear view of a flat stomach and a jewel embedded in her navel. The upper portion of her costume allowed just enough material to cover her breasts. Diaphanous veils of various colors draped from the top of her head and extended over creamy white shoulders and body. Her long, thick mane hung down her back, with short copper curls caressing her smooth cheeks.
“I hope you don’t intend to remain there all night. Do come in.”
“Do you often dress for supper like that?” he asked. Even he was amazed at how calm he sounded.
Beth laughed. “Only on special occasions. You see, I am just finishing my book on Turkey, and it helps me to write when I can create the right atmosphere. This is what women wear in Turkey. Do you like it?” She didn’t bother to inform him that it was a belly dancer’s costume.
Cole heard a jingling noise when she moved a bare foot. Only then did he notice the tiny bells circling her small ankles. He cleared his throat. Traveling with this woman certainly brought its surprises. “It’s different,” he finally replied. At this moment he couldn’t think of a thing he wanted more than to grab the beauty, lift her onto the pillows and make unrestrained love for the rest of the evening. “At first I thought you might be out to seduce me.”
“And what would you say if I was?”
Convinced she was now safe, she was playing with him. The whole thing verged on the unbelievable. Here he was in a situation that any man might dream of, yet he had to keep his britches up! “I’d have to refuse.” He chuckled. “I never let a woman bed me unless we’re well acquainted.”
“Surely you must find me... tempting?” she asked good-naturedly.
He had to say something that would keep her away from him. More specifically, keep him from her. “Contrary to what you may think, I do have my morals.” He rather enjoyed taking a virginal woman’s side of the issue.
Beth broke out laughing. She laughed so hard tears began rolling down her cheeks. She had deliberately set out to shock him, only to end up with the man preaching morality!
“Maybe I should come back another time.”
“No, no,” Beth managed to say. “The...food is... ready.” As she tried to regain control of herself, she pointed to the other side of the table, motioning her guest to be seated.
After wiping her eyes and blowing her nose on the handkerchief she retrieved from beneath one of the pillows, Beth realized the outlaw was still standing just inside the tent. “Come, sit down. I don’t bite. I take it you haven’t been around many women.”
Not any quite like you, Cole thought. “I’ve known a few.”
Beth wished he would shave off that confounded beard so she could get a good look at his face.
Cole moved forward. “Where am I supposed to sit?”
“On one of the pillows.” Beth suddenly wondered why she had felt the need to taunt this man. She should have been aware of his shyness. Or was it shyness? He hadn’t been backward when he complimented her in Independence. He had said she was a vision of loveliness. A shy man didn’t come up with words like that. “I’ve had a special meal prepared just for you.”
“I’d prefer it if you’d tell me the purpose of my being here.” Cole sat on a pillow, then tried to figure out what he was supposed to do with his long legs.
“You said we needed to talk about our trip. I thought this was a more civilized way of doing it than yelling at each other.”
Cole finally crossed his legs Indian-style. “What I’ve been trying to tell you—”
“Let’s wait until after we have eaten. It isn’t proper to discuss business during a meal.”
As the women began parading in with various bowls of food, the delicious aroma quickly permeated the air, making Cole’s mouth water. Having eaten only a couple of biscuits that morning, he was ready for a good meal.
Cole pitched right in. The bowls didn’t have a lot in them, but he still managed goodly-sized portions on his plate. None of the dishes looked familiar, but he wasn’t picky. He took a big bite of the chunky meat.
Beth raised her finger, but the food had already disappeared into Cole’s mouth. She flinched when his eyes became large circles of obsidian.
Cole was convinced the woman had tried to kill him. The hot spices were not only cooking his mouth, his skin was turning red! He glanced around the table for water, even though he knew it would only make the burning worse. There was none. Not even a saltcellar to sprinkle salt in his mouth. His eyes watering, he snatched up the glass filled with heaven knew what and downed the contents. Gawd almighty! It was vinegar! He jumped to his feet and ran out of the tent, already removing his coat and welcoming the feel of fresh air against his hot flesh. Each breath he took was like inhaling fire.
“Are...are you all right?”
Cole spun around and glowered at his hostess.
“I started to tell you the food was spicy, but you had already taken a bite.” Beth raised her hand to her throat. There was no warmth in those black eyes staring back at her. “I had wanted something different to serve you. I’m used to the food, so I had forgotten how hot Turkish food can seem to others.” Seeing his breathing was returning to normal, she relaxed somewhat. She honestly felt bad about what had happened. “If you’ll come back in, I’ll get you some water and have Magda prepare something more to your liking.”
“I’m not hungry.” He started to walk away.
“What did you mean when you said I have no salt for the West?”
Cole kept walking. “Guts, lady, guts,” he called over his shoulder.
Beth watched him walk away. Impossible man. Why was she singling him out from the others? All she had to do was give him an order or spend five minutes listening to what he had to say. It certainly didn’t require asking him to dine with her.
She went back inside the tent. The food was getting cold and she was hungry. Strange, she hadn’t noticed how broad Cole’s shoulders were until he’d taken off his coat. No guts, indeed! Just wait. She’d show him.
Chapter Four
When the sun touched the western horizon, Cole waved for the caravan to make camp. Seeing they had stopped, he scouted on for another mile, making sure there wasn’t any trouble waiting ahead. Satisfied, he turned his buckskin around and headed back to where he’d left the others.
As he relaxed in the saddle, Cole was feeling a bit euphoric over how smoothly the past few days of travel had gone. Each morning camp broke shortly after dawn. They stopped for a quick noon meal, then continued on until a half hour before sunset. There had been no unnecessary delays, nor had he heard a complaint. Though he hadn’t spoken to Beth since the supper disaster, he knew she was the only one who could have arranged the changes. But rather than ponder on how long this routine was going to last, he preferred to enjoy it while he could.
As soon as Cole guided his horse around a big, stately oak tree, the caravan came back into view. The wagons were in a horseshoe alignment, food was already cooking on the campfires and tents and cots were being set up. Except for Beth and himself, it was arranged so the men slept on one side of the camp and the women on the other. Beth slept on a comfortable bed in her tent, while he preferred the ground, some distance from the wagons. Should there be an attack, the marauders would head for the main group, leaving him free to defend the others.
A short distance from the wagons Cole dismounted, then untied the rawhide strips that kept his bedding snug against the cantle. After laying out his bedroll between a pair of willow trees, he unbuckled the cinch and pulled the saddle and blanket from his horse’s back. The smell of food cooking was pleasing to his nose as well as his stomach.
Cole was leading his buckskin to the stream for watering when he heard Doolan approaching from behind. The young man took his job as horse groom very seriously.
“I’ll take it from here, sir,” Doolan said.
Cole nodded and handed over the reins. He was starting to like having everything done for him. It would be an easy life to get used to. He glanced at the tall, lanky groom. Frank Doolan had to be nearing twenty, but he was still as clumsy as a floundering stud. He seemed too young to be Tex Martin, but at this point Cole couldn’t afford to rule anyone out.
Cole decided to follow along. He had discovered the boy was of a talkative nature. A great source for information. “How long have you worked for Beth?”
“Eleven years,” Doolan said proudly.
“You were just a boy when you started.”
“Yes, sir. My folks got killed in a fire, and Mrs. Alexander – it was Mrs. Jarvis then—insisted her first husband let me learn to be a groom.”
Two husbands? Cole wondered. “I suppose before much longer you’ll be wanting to head off on your own.” If he could get rid of Frank Doolan, that would be one less man he’d have to be suspicious of.
Doolan thought a minute. “I got everything I could possibly want. I’ve traveled all over and the mistress takes real good care of her people. But to be honest, sir, I’m going to have to make some changes soon.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It isn’t easy to talk about. Promise you won’t laugh or say anything to the others?”
“Whatever you say is safe with me.”
“Well, you see... I mean... I’ve never had a woman,” Doolan finally blurted out. “Molly Dee knows, and she teases me something awful.”
Molly Dee assisted the cook, Magda, and did any duties handed down by Esther. The pretty brunette was always giving Cole friendly smiles, and if she knew he was watching she would make a point of suggestively swinging her hips when she walked. Molly Dee was definitely a flirt.
“I have an awfully bad yearning, and sometimes I think I’m just going to split my bitches. I thought...well, I thought...”
The boy led the buckskin into the water, then let him lower his head to drink. The honking sounds made Cole look to the sky. The Canadian geese were quite a sight flying against the backdrop of the descending sun. They were headed north. The weather was still cool at night, but that would change before long. “I’m surprised your mistress hasn’t thought to take care of that matter for you.”
“She’d never think of bedding –”
Cole chuckled. “That wasn’t what I meant. It’s a situation I’d have expected her to rectify, especially since she seems hell-bent on ruling mankind. Surely you’ve been places where your problem could be taken care of?”
“Yes, but I could never get up the guts to go in a whorehouse by myself.”
“You want some advice, Doolan?”
Doolan lowered his head. “N...yes, sir.”
“My advice is not to worry about it. All things happen in due time. There’s nothing wrong with a man being a virgin, Doolan. How come you haven’t talked about this to one of the other men?”
Doolan stroked the horse’s thick neck. “They treat me like a boy. They never speak of women and such things when I’m around. I tell you, Cole, I believe a man needs to experience life before he goes and commits himself to a woman.”
Cole nodded. “You planning on marrying soon?”
“No, I was just expressing how I feel. I guess I’m trying to ask if you’d maybe...when this is all over would you go with me to... ?”
Cole patted the boy’s shoulder. “Just give it time. So, the mistress has been married twice, huh? That’s a lot of marriages for a woman so young.”
“She’s twenty-eight!”
“Oh, really?” Cole grinned. “That old, huh?” he teased.
“Yes, sir.”
The horse stopped drinking, and the two men headed toward the meadow.
“She’s actually been married three times.”
Cole raised a brow. “Is that where she came by all her money?”
“Her husbands were very wealthy.”
“She probably killed them off with her food.”
“Her first husband, Ernest Jarvis, was in his sixties when they married. His heart gave out.”
Cole wondered if it had happened while the man was enjoying his conjugal rights.
“I’ve heard tell the marriage was arranged by her uncle. The second husband, Cornelious Webber, was in his eighties and as proud as all get-out to have such a beautiful woman by his side. He died in his sleep. The third husband, Mr. Alexander, was a mean bastard. No one grieved when he was robbed and murdered.” Doolan raked his fingers through his sandy-colored hair. “I’ll say one thing, they all had a flair for living even if some did die young. I probably shouldn’t be telling you all this.”
“A man has to have someone to talk to. Besides, it’s all in the past.”
“True.”
“Sounds as if Mrs. Alexander has spent most of her life married.”
“Several years ago I overheard Esther tell Magda that the mistress was married at sixteen and widowed at seventeen. The three marriages only lasted a little over five years.”
They stopped in the meadow. The sun had already disappeared and dusk was quickly turning into night. Cole inhaled deeply. The light fog rolling in made everything smell damp.
“Frank, what do you know about Evan, George and the others? Do you feel they’re good at their trade, reliable and that sort of thing? The reason I’m asking is because if we should be attacked by Indians or such, I’d like to know who I can rely on to help in the fight.”
“I think you could rely on all of them. They may tease me, but they’re good, hardworkin’ men.” Doolan removed a short rope from his back pocket. He hobbled the buckskin then slipped off the bridle so the horse could graze with the others. Both men heard the clanging sound informing everyone that supper was ready.
Cole was a bit disappointed. Apparently Frank had no information that might help him track down Tex. Doolan couldn’t be the outlaw if he had indeed been with Beth for so long. An easy fact to check out.
“How much longer before we reach our first destination?” Doolan asked as they made their way back to the caravan.
“At our present pace, about three days.”
“Cole!”
Cole turned and saw Howard Bench coming toward him.
“Beth would like you to eat in her tent tonight.”
Cole groaned. He didn’t want another night of going without supper. He’d much prefer eating with the others. “When am I supposed to make my command appearance?”
Howard chuckled. “She said right away.”
Cole watched Howard and Doolan hurry off to the long table, where the others were already starting their meal. His gaze shifted to the tent off to itself. He’d be damned if he’d bathe, as he had last time. He moved forward. No sense putting off the inevitable. If he hurried, he might get away before all the food had disappeared from the long table.
“May I come in?” Cole called when he reached the canvas opening. This time he was prepared for anything.
“By all means.”
Assuring himself that this would be brief, Cole ducked his head and entered the feline’s den. Again he was taken aback by the sight before him. Everything had been changed. Now the furniture was dark, big and heavy. Though the tent was the same, it now appeared to be much smaller. To add to the overwhelming picture, Mrs. Alexander had on a heavily beaded black bolero, with a white, ruffled shirt front and a bright red waistband. The black satin pants were molded to long, perfect legs and ended just below her knees. White hose covered the rest of her legs and black slippers completed the costume.
“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?”
“Working on another book?”
“No. Who wants to dress the same all the time?”
