“Doesn’t it ever scare you?” Rachel asked.
“What?”
“The wilds.” Rachel swept an arm at the black well of the valley. “They sure scare me. Bears and mountain lions everywhere. Hostiles out to scalp every white they meet. I don’t see how you stand it.”
Fargo thought of his encounter with the mother bear. “It’s not as bad as you make it out to be. Nine times out of ten a bear or a big cat will leave you be. And not all tribes are hostile. I could name half a dozen that have never harmed a white man.”
“But there are many more that have,” Rachel persisted. “I’m not a simpleton. I’m aware of the dangers. I just couldn’t go gallivanting all over as you do. It’ll be bad enough settling in the Payette River Valley.”
“I take it you wish you were back in Ohio.”
“I never wanted to leave,” Rachel said sadly. “It was Pa’s idea, and he talked Ma into it. That didn’t leave me much choice.”
“Why didn’t you stay in Ohio by yourself? You’re a full-grown woman.”
“I may be grown but I’m afraid I lack confidence,” Rachel confessed. “Everyone says I’m so pretty but when I look in a mirror I see an ugly duckling.”
Fargo stopped. Taking her arm, he turned her so she faced him. “You’re as fine-looking as any filly I’ve ever met.” He ran a finger over her silken hair and lightly brushed her ear.
“You’re only saying that.”
Fargo bent and looked her in the eyes. “May God strike me dead if I’m lying.”
Rachel nervously giggled. “You shouldn’t tempt the Almighty like that. My ma would call it blasphemy.” Unexpectedly, she pressed her mouth to his in a quick, light kiss. A touch of her lips was all, and then she hastily pulled back.
“Aren’t you the brazen tart,” Fargo teased.
“You really think so?”
Even in the dark Fargo could tell she was blushing. “No. You’re a lady through and through.”
“Then what am I doing out here with you?”
“Even ladies get lonely.” Fargo pulled her to him. She resisted, her body taut, but only until he molded his mouth to hers. Then, bit by gradual bit, she relaxed. Her tension drained away and she timidly raised her hands to his shoulders.
“You’re awful good at this.”
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb. I don’t mind. Really, I don’t. There was someone else once, and he and I . . .” Rachel broke off. “Pa would have shot him for what we did, and Ma would have taken her hickory switch to me.”
“They won’t even notice we’re gone.”
“I hope not.”
Fargo kissed her a second time, harder, and ran a hand from her shoulder down her spine to her hip. She shivered slightly, her breath fluttering into his mouth. He slid his tongue between her parted lips while at the same time he kneaded her thighs, first one and then the other. When he broke the kiss, her bosom was rising and falling as if each breath would be her last.
“Oh, my. That made me dizzy.”
“Do you want to sit?”
“No, no. The farther we go, the safer it is.”
Fargo led her into the stand. She clung to his arm, but whether from fear or passion, he couldn’t say. A short way in he stopped and was about to kiss her when he gazed over her shoulder and thought he glimpsed movement between the cottonwoods and the covered wagons. His hand dropped to his Colt.
“What is it?” Rachel asked.
“I’m not sure.” Fargo moved to the edge of the trees and she went with him, gluing herself to his side. When he stopped and crouched she did the same.
“See anyone?” Rachel anxiously whispered.
“No.”
“I hope it’s not my ma. She’ll brand me a sinner and call down the wrath of the Lord on my head.”
“Hush.” Fargo looked and listened but the rustle of the cottonwoods was all he could hear over the fiddle and the voices. He let a couple of minutes go by, then said, “I reckon I was wrong.”
“Maybe it was my brother. I wouldn’t put it past him. He can be a brat at times.”
If it did turn out to be Billy, Fargo reflected, he would demand his dollar back. He grasped her hand and began to rise, saying, “We’re wasting time.”
“Be gentle with me.”
Fargo was about to say he would when something growled.
7
Instantly Fargo spun, his hand streaking to his Colt. It would be just his luck to run into another bear or some other predator. The night swarmed with them. But he didn’t draw. Instead, he smothered a laugh.
Rachel Winston giggled.
A mother raccoon, her fur puffed up to make her more formidable, bared her teeth and hissed. Behind her were four young, born that spring from the looks of them.
Fargo had no desire to harm them. But a raccoon’s teeth were sharp, and when a mother raccoon defended her young, she could be as fierce as a bear. “Shoo,” he said.
Rachel did more giggling.
The young raccoons turned and scampered off. Still hissing, the mother backed away until she judged she had gone a safe distance. Then she wheeled and raced after her offspring, her bushy tail bobbing.
“Weren’t they cute?” Rachel said. “We saw a lot of coons back home. They came to our pond to eat the frogs and fish.”
Fargo was thankful it hadn’t been something bigger.
“Do you think it was the coons you saw a minute ago?”
Fargo doubted it. How did they get behind him without him noticing? “Not likely,” he said. Turning, he watched the grass a while, and when nothing appeared, he clasped Rachel’s hand and led her deeper into the cottonwoods.
The wind rustled the leaves. Starlight made the pale boles gleam.
Fargo came to a clear spot and stopped. He went to kiss Rachel but she bowed her head.
“Have you changed your mind?”
“No, not at all. It’s just that . . .” Rachel looked up and timidly smiled. “Give me a minute. I’m not a saloon girl. I’m not used to this, even if I have done it before.”
“Take as long as you want,” Fargo said, hoping it wouldn’t be long at all.
“My ma would have a fit if she saw me.”
“Oh, hell.”
Rachel placed her hands on his chest. “I’m not backing out. Really I’m not. If I want to be with a man, I can. And you are just about the handsomest man I’ve ever met.”
Fargo waited. She was talking to build up her courage. Some women did that.
“I’ll remember this for the rest of my days. I want it to be just right. So please, don’t be rough. Some men are rough and some women like that, I hear, but I’m not one of them. I don’t like pain with my pleasure.”
Fargo impatiently tapped his boot. Fortifying her courage was one thing; talking him to death was another.
Rachel tilted her head back and regarded the celestial canopy. “Isn’t this romantic? You and me and the stars. It’s like in a story or a poem.”
If she started to recite poetry, Fargo was leaving.
With a shy grin, Rachel pecked him on the cheek. “I’m blathering, aren’t I? Thank you for putting up with it. You are a gentleman at heart.”
