Midnight Secrets Read online

  Her overcrowded mind retorted, Better than rolling in the grass with another man’s wife!Don’t let him provokeyou, Ginny. You’re just tired and edgy and miserable, and angry. Show him you can controlyour temper. “I know “it’s unlike a lady not to look her best, but there are times when she can’t; this is one of them. It’s more important to do my lessons and appease my teacher than to look ready for a Sunday stroll.”

  “Then you’ve learned one of the most important lessons of all: never let anything or anyone stand in the way of doing what you must.”

  “That advice couldn’t come from a more appropriate source.”

  “Appropriate… suitable,” Steve murmured. “Yep, you’re right.”

  For a moment, Ginny had thought he didn’t know that word, and she was amazed he did. But actually, she admitted, he seemed quite educated.

  After they reached camp, Ginny unhitched the team and led them to the river to drink. She carried a bucket along to rinse off most of the mud, as it would surely be uncomfortable after it dried. She staked them near her campsite as usual and stored the harnesses underneath the wagon. Just to pique Steve, she didn’t take a bath, only washed her face and hands. Nor did she change clothes or brush and rebraid her mussed hair. She was relieved the other women didn’t groom themselves, either.

  The women took their three-mile walk following lunch, because Steve said it was going to storm again later and they needed to get their chores and meal preparations completed earlier than usual.

  Ginny hung back with Lucy Eaves. Her bad ankle was swollen and slowing her friend’s pace. Ginny knew it must be aching and suggested she fetch Steve to give Lucy a ride to camp.

  Lucy thanked her, but refused. “I have to do this for myself. It’ll be fine by morning; it always is. It’s just the wet weather bothering it. Why don’t you go on ahead? I’ll be fine. I’m ruining your pace.”

  “I don’t care about that. Our demanding teacher will understand,” Ginny told her, but wasn’t convinced he would. She never knew what to expect from the unpredictable creature.

  Steve didn’t say a word to either woman as they entered camp. He knew why they were slow. He saw how brave and determined Lucy was and how thoughtful Anna was. An idea came to mind and he went to work on it.

  “You don’t have to do this, Anna,” Lucy protested, but she was inwardly delighted.

  “Yes I do. We’re friends. You keep that foot in saltwater soak while I do the chores. Just correct me when I go astray. You know I’m not well trained in the kitchen,” she reminded with a laugh.

  After the Eaves family and Ginny ate the meal she had cooked, Ginny made Lucy sit down while she did the dishes and put things away. She helped Jeff prepare everything for the approaching storm.

  Afterward, she sat on the ground and rubbed liniment into Lucy’s ankle, foot, and calf. “Am I hurting you?” Ginny asked as she gently but firmly massaged the aggravated area.

  Lucy smiled and sighed almost dreamily. “No, and you’re so kind to tend me this way. I feel like a pampered child; it’s heaven.”

  “You deserve good treatment. I’ll do this again tomorrow.”

  Ginny hurried to get her own chores and preparations finished, then gathered her things and headed for the designated bathing area to scrub off the mud and to wash her filthy garments. She wasn’t about to share her bed with mud or to dirty the wagon with it. When she heard voices around the bend in the path, she ducked behind some bushes after she recognized one as Cathy’s and the other as Steve’s. She told herself the action was silly, but she didn’t want to meet and speak with either one. They passed her concealed location and stopped ahead, out of hearing range. Ginny refused to risk exposing herself. She must wait in concealment until they left and hoped that would be soon.

  Steve was annoyed with the dark-haired beauty for seeking him out in the woods. He knew, if discovered, it would appear improper and could be hazardous to his mission. He was tired of the woman grasping at him and offering herself. He suspected he was going to have to be harsh with her to make her behave. When she pleaded for a stop to the exhausting walks, he told her, “You need the stamina, ma’am. You’ll soon be doing it daily on the trail, so you’d better get used to it now.”

  “You could tell the others I have a good reason I can’t do it, perhaps a bad ankle or leg like Lucy Eaves has.”

  “I don’t lean toward lies and tricks, Mrs. King; they cause trouble.”

  “I could reward you,” she purred, pressing her body close to his and lacing her fingers behind his neck. She tried to kiss him.

  Steve grasped her hands and worked them free, careful not to get any telltale scratches from her nails. He captured her chin to keep her from rising to attempt another kiss. “Don’t do this, Mrs. King.”

  “Why not? I want you, and you want me.”

  “That isn’t true. Don’t force me to embarrass you with the truth.”

  Ginny couldn’t watch any more. She hated the way Steve cupped the woman’s face. She couldn’t bear to see them kiss, so she gingerly slipped from her hiding place and escaped the tormenting scene.

  The rain began before Ginny finished washing her shirt and pants and cleaning her boots. Her clean skirt and blouse would get soaked before she reached cover but she didn’t care; they would dry. The drops felt cool, refreshing, soothing, even stimulating to her weary body and troubled spirit. She stuffed her things into a cloth sack and flung the laundry over one arm to head back.

  The downpour increased and played mischief with her vision. Peals of thunder boomed overhead and lightning flashed in zigzag patterns. She assumed everyone was inside their wagons by now so there was no one who knew she was gone and would worry—or so she thought. She almost collided with Steve Carr as she hurried along the path. Blinking away raindrops as she looked up into his sullen expression, she said, “I’m coming; I’m coming.”

  “Get to your wagon, woman! Don’t you realize it’s dangerous to be away from camp alone? With the storm’s noise and everybody inside, a scream for help wouldn’t be heard. If anything happened to you, Anna, I’d be held to blame. Why take this foolish risk?”

  “I was helping Lucy. Her ankle looked awful. She can’t walk like the rest of us. You’re mean to force her to aggravate it with exercise.”

  Steve knew what she had been doing. “There are times she’ll have to walk, Miss Avery. She knows and accepts that; she doesn’t complain.”

  “She wouldn’t, and you know it,” Ginny told him. “She won’t have to walk. When she can’t drive her wagon, she can drive mine, and I’ll walk.”

  “What about your father?” Steve reminded and tested her.

  “He has a horse; he can ride him. There are times when a person can’t do his share of the work and others have to help them.”

  Steve sensed anger and tension. “You’re in a foul mood today.”

  “Why shouldn’t I be? You pick at me half the time. I don’t appreciate being hog-tied for your amusement or constantly corrected like a bad child. You’re mean to me and Lucy. Since you obviously don’t like me, Mr. Carr, why not leave me alone? Stop playing spiteful games with me.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, looking confused and intrigued.

  “Do you want the truth?” she challenged, egged on by her strain. Be honest, Ginny, so you can clear the air.

  “Of course,” Steve murmured without thinking of the consequences.

  “A few times you’ve reacted too strongly, even if you had just cause for your annoyance. You have a heavy responsibility for a lot of people; I realize that. But you and I rub each other wrong. I’m a friendly and open person; you’re the opposite; our differences somehow offend and irritate you. You mistake those traits as false pretenses and womanly wiles. In clear terms, you think I’m a fake, spoiled, can’t or won’t learn the lessons, will delay the journey, make you look bad, and will be too friendly to you. You don’t believe a lady can carry her weight on the trail. Whether or not it’s intentional,
you’re tougher on me than on the others.”

  “How do you know what I think or feel?”

  “Actually, I don’t,” she admitted, “because you keep me in a constant state of confusion and tension with your contradictory behavior, but that’s the impression you’ve given me. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

  “I thought you had confidence in me.”

  “I do. I believe you’re a very capable teacher and skilled guide.”

  “But you have a low opinion of me as a person?”

  “No. I just don’t think you like me or trust me or that you’re fair to me.”

  “Do you think I should give you special treatment?”

  “That isn’t what I mean. Louise and Mattie and… others give you a hard time, unjustly I’ll add, but you aren’t mean to them. Why single me out to be scolded and embarrassed so many times?”

  Steve came up with a logical explanation. “You need toughening up the most. Your distractions endanger me, yourself, and the others; I’ve explained that to you. What Mrs. Jackson, Epps, and… others do is annoying but not dangerous. I see no need to make them behave worse by reprimanding them. But with you, corrections improve your progress and you don’t get spiteful and rebellious, or I didn’t think you would.”

  “I’m to take that as a compliment?” she scoffed, ignoring the storm.

  Steve did, too. “Why, Miss Avery, I do believe you’ve been hiding a naughty and defiant streak. You have more sides and surprises to your personality than a box,” he teased to relax them both. As he did so, he cupped her face as he’d done with Cathy while setting the vixen straight.

  The same scene came to Ginny’s tormented mind and she was provoked to warn, “Don’t make fun of me, you bastard.”

  Steve went rigid and glared at her. He was piqued into a rash reply. “Yep, so I guess it comes natural for me to act like what I am.”

  Ginny was stunned and she gaped at him. He was serious! Telling the truth! On purpose? Was that the root of his—

  “Sorry if I shocked you, Miss Avery; it slipped out.”

  Even though he was the one to apologize for a change, he did it with a sarcastic tone and expression. Her pleading heart went out to him. “I’m sorry, Steve; I didn’t mean to say that. You made me angry with your amusement at my expense. I like you and want to be friends, to have peace, a truce.”

  She looked genuinely contrite but he discarded her plea. “Don’t be sorry or feel pity for me. I’m not the only bastard alive. The way some men and women carry on, who can be sure of their parentage? Take that King woman; her children could be fathered by three different men. If she doesn’t stop working on me to become number four, she’ll be sorry.”

  Was that what influenced his feelings and behavior toward women? Toward her? At least, she had misunderstood the scene she had witnessed earlier. “I’m sorry you hate your mother so much.”

  Steve stared at her strangely. “I don’t; I love her.” She realized he didn’t mention his father, if he knew who he was. She didn’t query him about the touchy subject. But why blame and hate the man involved and not the woman? Odd…

  He was so drawn to her that he rebelled. “Just a friendly warning, Anna, if you have your sights set on me, don’t. I’m not available.”

  “You’re married or you have a sweetheart?”

  “Neither; past, present, or future. No place in my life for either one. A man like me only needs himself to tend.”

  “That sounds awfully cold and hard and lonely, Steve.”

  “Maybe so, but it suits me fine. I never allow myself to become vulnerable to other people’s demands or put myself in a position to suffer defeat. You shouldn’t, either. Be strong and smart, and you won’t.”

  “You don’t trust anyone or let anyone get close?” she asked.

  “Nope, I just trust myself.”

  “That’s a hard way to exist, Steve.”

  “Hasn’t been so far.”

  “You don’t ever want to change your life?”

  “Nope.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Who would want to live that way on purpose?” she reasoned. “Besides, you’re too special to be alone forever.”

  “Am I? A man like me will take whatever a woman offers him, even if he doesn’t feel the same way she does. Beware of devils like me, Anna Avery. We’re dangerous and untrustworthy and selfish.” And I’m worse things you don’t even know about.

  Afraid of me, are you? “Is that a challenge to find out? To prove to you that you’re wrong about yourself?”

  “Maybe so, because you’re one tempting woman, but don’t accept it. When you’ve had time to think about me carefully, you’ll realize I’m right, that I’m worse than any violent storm could be. Get back to camp now; the storm’s getting worse and it isn’t safe out here alone. Don’t do this again.”

  Ginny grasped double meanings in his words. “Ste—”

  “Don’t push, woman, or you’ll be sorry. Better listen to me and heed my words while I’m in a rare generous mood. Git!” he ordered.

  Ginny obeyed him, but didn’t want to leave him or stop talking.

  Steve watched her hurry out of sight when what he really wanted was to yank her into his arms and cover her mouth with kisses. He: leaned against a tree and took several deep breaths to calm himself. He was angry for making his reckless admission and for behaving like a fool. Niiguyaa, he must have a head full of stones! But his heart no longer felt like one, and that worried him. Whyever had he told her such a humiliating and bitter secret? Because she had unsettled him—taken him off guard— with her words, expressions, and allure. But she was ntu’i izee, bad medicine.

  After she tossed her sack inside the wagon, Ginny hung her soaked garments over a rope she had suspended between two trees to allow them to dry. Drenched, she checked on the nervous mules and went to the Davis wagon.

  After leaving Steve and while she was doing her tasks, she pondered this man she desired. She could imagine the anguish and hardships he must have endured without a loving father’s name, guidance, affection, and influence. It must have been a terrible cross to bear. Perhaps his mother had been ravished, or been a “soiled dove” who had gotten pregnant on the job, or had chosen to love and surrender to an unattainable man, one like her son had become.

  Steve Carr was clearly a man in torment, with deep resentments, a scarred heart and troubled soul, and a tragic past. By his own admission, he didn’t want to trust or get close to anyone, especially a woman. She was beginning to grasp why he was so moody, defensive, and wary. He had become self-contained, stubborn, and tough to protect himself against being hurt again; but he was unaware that he was his biggest enemy and torturer. Without realizing it, he had become more like his father than he knew, or wanted to be, or would admit. She was positive he didn’t comprehend how much he needed love, comfort, and peace. Maybe his slip hadn’t been an accident; maybe his lost soul was reaching out to her for those things.

  When Ellie responded to her call, Ginny said, “Give me a minute to get into dry clothes, then let Stuart bring the girls over for the night.”

  “We don’t want to be trouble, Anna; we’ll have to sleep this way on the trail during bad weather.”

  “No need to be cramped before it’s necessary,” she teased. “Truly, it’s no bother and everyone will be more comfortable.”

  Ginny sat in a nightgown on the mattress with the two girls. She was tired and needed a good night’s sleep, but she needed a diversion more. The youngest provided it because she was afraid of the loud rain and thunder. “Let’s play a game,” she suggested. “Let’s close our eyes and make guesses what the storm sounds like to us. Ready?” Ginny asked when they agreed. When both answered at the same time, she said, “I’ll be first. Listen to the rain; it sounds like your mother… frying chicken or bacon. The thunder sounds like… your father hunting and firing his rifle.”

  “It sounds like furniture moving u
pstairs,” the oldest ventured.

  “You’re right,” Ginny said, and the game continued.

  Afterward, she entertained and distracted them with stories her mother and father had told her as a child. At one thunderous boom, the youngest girl leaned closer to her. Ginny embraced her and soothed, “Snuggle close and I’ll protect you. When I was a little girl and scared of storms, my mother left a candle burning and sang to me.”

  Ginny had the light low and the lantern secured to prevent an accident. She sang softly to the girls until both were asleep, one on each side of her. She smiled in satisfaction and closed her eyes, relaxed and weary enough to slumber herself tonight.

  Steve moved away from the Avery wagon, wishing he could be cuddled in Ginny’s arms. She was right; he was too tough and inconsistent with her, but he had good reason and he wasn’t certain he could stop his ruse. She was the most invigorating breath of air he had ever taken. She had good and enticing traits. He liked being with her and talking with her. He warmed under the shine of her smile. He quivered under the sound of her voice. He flamed with desire for her.

  A wife, home, and children were things he hadn’t ever considered or wanted for himself. Then, Anna Avery had appeared on the scene and made them come to mind too often, made them look and feel compelling at times. That was crazy, he told himself. He had no room for them in his life, no place for them in his embittered heart. He resented the fact she even teased such dreams over his mind. Perhaps being around so many families was also to blame for him thinking so wildly and foolishly. What did he know about romancing and loving a woman, a lady like Miss Anna Avery?

  Love…Jump off that stallion before you breakyour neck trying to tame it. Don’t go near her with thoughts of capturing and mastering her.