Sooner or Later Page 6

  The hasty movement didn’t faze Jimmy from his deep sleep. With his arms full, Mason stood just inside the tailgate, allowing time for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. A bolt of lightning flashed, illuminating the wagon’s insides, and Mason eased Jimmy down along the side next to Katie. A smile tilted his lips when he saw Rebekah, sleeping with her arm around his niece.

  After adjusting his bedding at the foot of the wagon, Mason eased down. He’d have to sleep sitting up in order to give Rebekah plenty of room so as not to encroach the rules of propriety. He knew he shouldn’t even be in the wagon with her asleep, but he couldn’t afford to get drenched in this cold and take sick. If he were down, that would leave the other three helplessly on their own.

  Under the safety of the canopy, Mason listened to the steady downpour. Relief flooded him. He was thankful he’d left the lids off the two large water barrels attached to the side of the wagon. He had hoped it would rain; now he hoped the rain wouldn’t continue too long and turn the trail into a mud-soaked river. Thunder boomed and another flash of lightning brightened the wagon. Rebekah bolted upright, blinking the sleep from her eyes. Even in the dark, he could tell she stared wide-eyed at him.

  “W–what are you doing in here?” She pulled her quilt over her chest, not that it mattered since she still wore her clothes.

  “In case you didn’t notice, it’s pouring outside.”

  “Oh?”

  “Looks like we’re gonna get a real toad strangler. I didn’t want Jimmy and me to get soaked and possibly sick. ‘Sides, I have to keep an eye on the canopy when it rains.” The sky lit up, and Mason motioned toward the top of the wagon. “If the top puddles, it’ll start leaking and drench everything inside. This is an old wagon, and the canvas has some sun rot. I couldn’t see the point in investing a lot of money in a new one when we only needed it for about a month. It’s not all that far from St. Louis to the Indian Territory.”

  He knew he was babbling; he just didn’t know why. Running off at the mouth wasn’t one of his normal characteristics.

  “It’s okay,” Rebekah whispered. “I really hate storms. I’m glad you’re here.”

  Lightning exploded in the night sky so close he could smell the burn. For a moment, it seemed as if someone had lit the lantern hanging from the wagon’s ribbings. Mason watched Rebekah pull her quilt clear up to her chin as if to protect herself from the storm—or from him. Her wide eyes looked childlike. Long, sleep-tossed, unbraided hair wrapped around her like a cloak, and Mason had a deep urge to bury his hands in her unkempt tendrils.

  Roaring thunder shook the wagon, and in the next instant Rebekah dropped her quilt and scrambled to his side, cowering against his arm. Mason reached for the quilt, tucked it around her, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. Though surprised by Rebekah’s reaction to the storm, he relished the warmth her nearness brought. Outside, he and Jimmy had snuggled together under their quilts, but the frosty temperature had chilled him to the bone.

  “I–I’m sorry to be such a baby and so much trouble. I promise tomorrow I’ll start pulling my own weight,” Rebekah whispered against his shirt, the heat of her breath warming a spot on his chest.

  “Shhh. Don’t worry about it.” Wisps of her hair tickled his chin. With a deep sigh, he brushed it down, stroking her long mane. “I don’t care much for storms either, though I’m thankful for the rain. I was getting worried.”

  “What about?”

  “We’re running short on water. I was concerned I might have to put the horses down.”

  Rebekah pushed away from his chest. He could feel her staring at him through the dark. “You wouldn’t do that, would you?”

  “I shot Prince.”

  Rebekah gasped and Mason grimaced. “Rebekah,” he whispered, “Prince was dying. He was suffering.”

  “I know and it’s all my fault.”

  Mason heard her suck back a sob. He straightened and leaned forward. In the dark, he reached for Rebekah’s face. Lightning flashed. In that brief moment, he smoothed her hair from her face and laid his palms against her cheeks. He wished he could see her eyes, but it was dark again. “Listen to me, Rebekah. Prince was an old horse. It was simply his time. I don’t want to hear any more about your killing him. Do you understand?”

  He felt her nod. Once again, thunder jolted the wagon. A horse whinnied somewhere outside. Mason pulled Rebekah against his side and wrapped his arm around her shivering shoulders. It was warmer for both of them that way, he told himself.

  She wrapped one arm around his back and rested her head against his shoulder. Her warm breath tickled his chin, and her long hair covered his left arm. She smelled of campfire smoke and flowers. She weighed next to nothing—it was almost like holding Katie. No, Rebekah was much different from Katie.

  He could tell Rebekah liked to be held and cuddled. Annie hadn’t cared for either. She’d been affectionate, but she always said she couldn’t go to sleep if he held her, so after a brief hug and kiss good night, she’d skedaddled over to her side of the bed.

  Mason enjoyed holding Rebekah. As a boy, he’d hugged his mother a lot. Of course, hugging Rebekah was much different than hugging his mother. After his mother’s death, the only hugs he’d received had been his sister Danielle’s, at least until Annie had come along. His father’s stoic personality had kept the man from showing any sort of affection. Mason was thankful he took after his mother in that respect. If he ever married again, he’d make sure to choose an affectionate woman.

  “Mason, can I ask you a question?” Rebekah whispered against his cheek.

  “Sure.”

  “How old are you?”

  Mason pushed against a supply crate with his foot and shifted to a better position. “I’m twenty-six. How about you?”

  “Twenty-one.”

  Twenty-one? Mason blinked against the darkness. He’d thought for sure she wasn’t a day over seventeen.

  “Have you—I mean—you’re not—married, are you?” Rebekah stiffened in his arms.

  Mason’s stomach clenched. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about Annie or her death since the funeral. Neighbors had brought food for the three of them, but he’d refused to talk about the sudden deaths. He couldn’t. Could he now? Now that six months had passed?

  Rebekah pushed against his chest with her palm, tying to ease out of his embrace. Thunder boomed, and she stiffened but didn’t cower in fear this time. “Um … never mind. I don’t mean to be prying. I just thought since we can’t sleep and we’ll be traveling together, it would be nice to know each other better.” She squirmed again. “And, Mason, let me go.”

  Mason tightened his arms, not allowing her to escape. He knew he shouldn’t, but he wanted to hold her—needed to hold her—if he was going to tell her about Annie. “Shhh.

  Just relax. The storm’s not over yet.” He pulled her head to his shoulder, gently pinning it there with his palm, thankful she didn’t resist. As if they had a mind of their own, his fingers buried themselves in her wealth of hair.

  Rebekah felt Mason tremble—or was it her? She’d never been in a man’s arms before. As far back as she could remember, Curtis had never hugged her. Mason’s solid torso felt so different than being hugged by her mother’s soft body. As much as Rebekah enjoyed the security of being in his arms, she felt she should move away, but now she couldn’t. Her head was anchored against Mason’s shoulder by his strong hand; his short beard tickled her forehead. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and Rebekah couldn’t resist laying her free arm across his chest.

  “I was married … for nearly two years.” He paused, and Rebekah wondered if she should ask what happened.

  “Annie died.” Mason exhaled a deep sigh as if it required a huge effort to broach the subject. “She was carrying our first child. My sister, Danielle, Jimmy and Katie’s mother, was with her. They both died when the wagon they were riding in overturned as they were crossing a river in a sudden storm. The water in the river was usual
ly only a few inches deep, but not that afternoon. They got caught in a flash flood.”

  Ah That explained his desire to hold her. Maybe the storm disturbed him as much as it did her. She wrapped her arm farther around his chest, and he laid his head against hers. Maybe her holding him would help comfort him. How awful to lose so much in one day

  “I’m so sorry, Mason.”

  Here in the dark, in Mason’s arms, he didn’t seem so intimidating. He was warm, secure, needy. She felt safe in a man’s arms for the first time in her life. He, too, had suffered and endured the horrible pain of losing someone he loved.

  “I don’t know if the pain of that day will ever go away,” he whispered against her hair.

  “Time has a way of lessening the pain. And God can help the most.”

  Mason suddenly stiffened. “God doesn’t care about our suffering. And what do you know of such pain? Surely at just twenty-one, you haven’t been married before.” His voice carried a harshness that hadn’t been there before.

  Releasing her hold on Mason, she pulled her arm down against her chest. He’s mad at God Of that much she was certain.

  “I know the pain of losing someone you love more than life.”

  “Who, Rebekah? Who did you lose?” His voice softened to that slow Southern drawl she loved to listen to.

  “M–my mother and my little brother, Davy. They died last year from influenza. I tried so hard to save them.” She choked back a sob. “Pa … uh, Curtis, was out on a hunting trip, and I was afraid to leave them to go for the doctor. He was so angry with me when he got back home. Said it was my fault.” Tears wet her cheeks, and she turned her face into the warmth of Mason’s shirt. His arms tightened around her.

  “He hurried for the doctor, but Davy was already gone by the time he got back, and Ma was close to death. If I’d left them alone and gone for the doctor, they might still be alive.” The familiar pain tore at her breast. How many times had she played the “what-if” game? Her fingers tightened on Mason’s shirt.

  “Shhh, sugar, don’t cry. We’ll get through this together.” Mason said the words against her forehead. He called her “suguh” with that smooth voice of his. Chills, from something other than the cold damp air, raced down her spine. He gently kissed her temple, loosing a storm within her unlike any she’d ever known. She wanted to feel his kiss upon her lips. Just once.

  She sniffed back her tears and tilted her head. His gentle kisses angled past her ear and down her jawline. Rebekah’s heart pounded louder than the thunder booming in the distance. Their lips connected like a whisper. The warm touch of his mouth deepened on hers, sending a shock wave through her entire body. It was a kiss her tired soul could melt into—her first kiss.

  Suddenly Mason stiffened and pulled away. “Rebekah? Uh … that was a mistake.”

  Rebekah’s emotions whirled like a leaf in an eddy of wind and then skidded to a halt. She jerked from his embrace, her lips still warm and moist from his kiss. Instantly the chill in the wagon battered her as hard as his words. Grabbing her quilt, she crawled back to her sleeping spot and lay down.

  The kiss left her weak and confused. She was stunned at her own eager response to Mason’s kiss, but she was more shocked by his words. “That was a mistake.”

  No, Mason, it was the best thing I’ve ever experienced

  “Rebekah? I don’t know what came over me.” She heard his voice edging closer.

  “Just leave me alone.” She spat out the words.

  “Fine! That’s just fine with me.”

  She heard Mason’s shuffling as he exited the wagon, and she shuddered at the cold breeze that followed. The worst of the storm had blown past them. Rebekah listened to the gentle patter of the raindrops against the wagon’s covering. Jimmy’s and Katie’s steady breathing filled the air. Peace reigned everywhere except within her.

  Lord, was it a mistake to enjoy Mason’s kiss? You know he’s the only man I’ve ever kissed. Does kissing a man always feel like that? Like an explosion? As if a fire were being lit in my belly? How could something that felt so good be a mistake? I don’t understand

  Warm tears trailed down her cheeks. I was a fool to think Mason had a speck of niceness in him. He probably hugged me just so he could get warm

  “But he called me ‘suguh,’ “she whispered out loud. Rebekah turned on her side as the tears continued to fall. She didn’t want to lose her heart to this bear of a man who despised her, but she feared he’d already staked a claim on a quarter section.

  She took a deep, trembling breath and resolved he wouldn’t claim any more. Until she could find a way to get to Denver, Rebekah determined to keep her distance and make sure she did her fair share of the work. She wouldn’t give him cause to lower his opinion of her any further.

  Her tears slowed as her determination deepened. Finally, sleepiness claimed her body with its soothing, relaxing heaviness. Rebekah felt herself drifting toward that land without thoughts and pain. A place without those black eyes burning their way into her heart.

  A sudden icy coldness splattering against her cheek pulled her back from her haven of rest. With her sleeve, she wiped it away. Instantly the frigid moistness returned, bringing a friend with it. Drip! Plop!

  “Nooo.” The roof!

  seven

  For the past two days, Mason’s level of conversation with Rebekah had been reduced to a series of grunts and nods. He was so angry with himself for kissing her. One minute he was spilling his grief about Annie, and the next he was kissing Rebekah.

  Mason shook the sweet memory from his mind. How could Rebekah stir up such feelings within him when they’d just met? He didn’t like it. It felt like a betrayal of Annie’s memory. He wouldn’t let it happen again.

  Jerking his hat from his head, he smacked it against his pant leg, sending dust flying. Rebekah looked up from the campfire where she was stirring a pot of rabbit stew. The tantalizing odor caused his stomach to rumble nearly as loudly as the thunderstorm had roared the other night. At least one good thing had happened. Once Jimmy discovered how good a cook Rebecca was, his anger at her being a female shriveled up like a piece of bacon in a hot skillet.

  Two days ago, they’d huddled together to get warm. Now spring had returned, bringing a taste of summer with it. How could the weather change so fast here? Mason ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. Weather in the heart of the nation was unpredictable—challenging.

  “We’re done.” Jimmy smiled up at him.

  “Both barrels are full?” Mason asked, setting his sweat-stained hat on a rock to dry.

  Jimmy glanced sideways at Katie and scowled. “Yeah, but it weren’t easy. Katie got more water on her than in the barrels.”

  “Nuh-uh,” Katie said. “I helped lots. Jimmy spwashed me.”

  Mason smiled at Katie. The braids Rebekah had so meticulously woven together that morning were frayed and dripping.

  Water dribbled from Katie’s undergarments, which were stained dark by her numerous encounters with the mud along the creek bank. Rebekah showed good sense in removing Katie’s dress before allowing her to help Jimmy.

  “Guess she’ll be needing a bath after lunch,” Rebekah commented.

  “Nuh-uh, I gived me one.” Katie smiled and smoothed her filthy chemise.

  Mason laughed out loud, and with joyous moments in short supply, it felt good. “Oh, sugar.” He scooped her up in his arms and smacked a kiss on her moist cheek. “I think it’d do us all good to take a bath. It’s been way too long.”

  “Not me. I ain’t takin’ no bath.” Jimmy crossed his arms and jutted his chin in the air.

  Setting Katie on the ground, Mason straightened and turned a stern but playful gaze toward Jimmy. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Jimmy glanced from Mason to Rebekah and back, as if searching for an ally.

  “I don’t know, Rebekah.” Mason turned to look at her. “What do you think?” She set the wooden spoon on a rock and rested her hands on her hips. “Think this boy need
s a bath?”

  Rebekah blinked as if surprised by his teasing; then she gave him a conspiratorial grin followed by a playful wink. Mason’s heart did a little flip. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “I think the question is more when he needs a bath than if he needs one.”

  It was the most she’d spoken to him in days. Pleased that she sided with him so readily in spite of the chasm of unspoken words separating them, Mason smiled.

  Jimmy scowled at her.

  “You know, I think you’re right.” Mason took a step toward the boy. “In fact, I think we’d all enjoy lunch a bit more if he bathed beforehand.”

  Jimmy’s dark eyes widened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Rebekah, you think Jimmy’s got time for a bath before lunch?” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down, hoping she’d continue the playful banter.

  She picked up a cast-iron lid from a nearby rock and set it on top of the kettle of stew. Her lips curved into an amused grin. “I don’t think it would hurt this stew to cook a bit longer.”

  “Well, then, I guess now’s as good a time as any.” Mason turned toward Jimmy.

  “You mean, right now?” Jimmy asked, his voice laced with disbelief and his eyes almost ready to pop out of their sockets. “But I don’t want no bath, Uncle Mason.”

  From behind him, Mason heard Katie’s excited giggle. “I wanna help. I wants ta spwash him.”

  Mason edged toward Jimmy. “Aw, come on, pardner, it’s not that bad. Just think, you’ll get to cool off and clean up all at once.”

  “I’ll get him some clean clothes to put on,” Rebekah offered as she moved behind Jimmy and toward the wagon.

  “I don’t want no stinkin’ bath!” Jimmy yelled. He backed away from Mason, casting cautious glances toward the water.

  Mason chuckled from deep within. “You’re the one who’s stinkin’, son.”

  Jimmy tilted his chin down and sniffed his shirt. “I don’t smell no worse than you.”

  An unladylike snort erupted from Rebekah as her shoulders curled and she bent forward. Her eyes danced with amusement as she struggled to hold back her tight-lipped smile. She sucked in her lips and raised her eyebrows as if daring him to object to Jimmy’s observation.