"Of course." If there was one thing she'd learned in dealing with Abner these days, it was patience. She climbed to the wagon seat, picked up the reins, and cracked the whip. Had there ever been a time when she thought driving the oxen would be fun? Now she could holler "Gee! Haw!" and the other commands with the best of them, but she'd long since learned driving a team of oxen was a lot of sweaty hard work. "I see no reason why you can't help more, at least drive the oxen."

Abner rubbed the remains of his leg, now a pitiful stump covered by his pinned-up pant leg. "Can't you see G.o.d has seen fit to make me a cripple? If G.o.d wanted me to-"

"Oh, be quiet." Patience be d.a.m.ned. "I don't want to hear about G.o.d from you." She took a good look at her brother-in-law. Since the accident, his body had grown slack, his shoulders slumped. His beard looked like a rat's nest, it was so unkempt. He was more to be pitied than anything else, and she shouldn't argue with him. "Just go lie down."

Without a shred of remorse, she picked up the reins. She didn't care she'd let her disgust show when she spoke to Abner. She didn't want to think about him. All she wanted to think about was Clint. She cracked the whip again, her mind reeling with all that had been left unsaid between them.

She could hardly wait to get to Truckee.

For days, tortured by thirst and hunger, the train slogged through the barren desert until one day, around noon, Lucy sighted a shimmering dark green line of cottonwoods on the far horizon. Soon the thirsty oxen and cattle scented the proximity of water. They became so maddened that to prevent the teams from stampeding and wrecking the wagons, Clint and Charlie called, "Truckee River ahead! Everyone get those teams unhitched! Let 'em go!"

The crazed animals rushed pell-mell for the water. The thirsty humans, Lucy among them, followed close behind.

When Lucy reached the river, she pulled her boots off, waded in, and joyfully splashed around. Cupping her hands together, she scooped up the precious liquid and drank until she'd had her fill, letting it dribble down her chin. Ah, water! She'd never take it for granted again.

The low spirits of the exhausted, trail-worn party picked up when William Applegate and the council decided they'd stay two whole days in the beautiful mountain setting by the side of the Truckee River where there was plenty of water, lush gra.s.s, and an abundance of game. Lucy rejoiced along with the rest, then went to work. Starting with the baby, she washed practically everything in sight, including herself and her clothes. She also washed Abner's clothes, the dusty wagons, and everything inside that wasn't nailed down. What an exquisite feeling to be clean again!

That evening, for the first time since they started the trek across the desert, members of the wagon train gathered around a campfire. In a buoyant mood, they chatted, danced, and listened to Erasmus Butler play his fiddle.

Lucy heard the music from her wagon. Anxious to join in the fun, she laid Amy in her tiny bed-a box she'd soon outgrow, but fine for now. With a surge of affection, she looked down at the child. What a good baby she was. Amy might have been born early, but far as Lucy could see, she was perfect in every way. She didn't even cry much. At nearly two months old, she gurgled happily and showed the beginnings of a smile.

Lucy carried Amy, box and all, to the Applegates' wagon where the oldest girl, Jessie, had volunteered to watch the little ones. From there she walked a fair distance to Abner's wagon. In accordance with his new custom, he'd parked amidst the trees on the far perimeter of the campsite, isolating himself as far from the others as he could get. She found him sitting outside his wagon reading his Bible by lantern light.

"I'm going to join everyone at the campfire. Want to come along? There's singing and dancing, just what we need after what we've been through." She laughed to herself, wondering why she was being so kind to this horrible man. It all came down to pity, she supposed, inspired by a gentle upbringing that emphasized kindness and compa.s.sion. Not that anything she said would matter. She knew her brother-in-law would decline. He could manage well enough on crutches now, but since the accident, he had avoided human contact, much preferring to sit beside his wagon, read the Scriptures, and feel sorry for himself.

Abner looked up from his Bible and glared. "Dancing is a sin."

"Nowhere in the Bible does it say dancing is a sin."

" 'Thessalonians five, Verse twenty-two: 'Abstain from all appearance of evil.' "

"I hardly think ..." What was the use? Why waste her breath? She could move a mountain more easily than she could change her brother-in-law's mind.

"What have you done with the baby?" Abner asked.

"Amy's quite safe with the Applegates."

"Then I suppose I can't stop you."

Why had she bothered? She might have known he'd throw up the same old obstacles when he had no right to stop her from doing anything she pleased. She'd grown thoroughly sick of Abner's constant negative att.i.tude, especially since he'd put all the work on her since his accident. She wouldn't let him spoil her evening. She'd see Clint tonight, and nothing would stop her. She smoothed her blue muslin dress. Today she'd patched it, and it didn't look too bad. She touched her hair. Newly washed, it fell prettily over her shoulders. "Goodnight."

"Mind you're not gone long."

"I'm not your wife. It's not your place to tell me what to do."

He seemed not to have heard. "Stay away from Clint." His voice was harsh.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, yes you do." Abner's eyes were lethally calm. "You think I don't see how you l.u.s.t after him? You think you're fooling me?"

"I don't have to listen to you." She started away.

"You'd better listen to what I have to say."

Something in his voice made her stop and turn. "What do you mean?"

"I hear your dear friend Cordelia has decided not to farm."

What was he up to? "That's right. She and Chad plan to settle in one of the mining towns."

"So will we."

She stared at him tongue-tied.

Abner smiled, a mean kind of smile that conveyed his pleasure he'd shocked her. "Do you actually think I can farm now?"

She gathered her wits together. "I really don't know. You've got your crutches, although I must say, you don't use them much. You can always find plenty of hired hands-"

"We're going to the gold fields."

She stifled a gasp. "Why? You can hardly walk, let alone pan for gold."

"There's other money to be made in the mining towns. I plan to open a store."

"Have you decided where?"

"A placed called Downieville, on the fork of the North Yuba. I hear they've hit pay dirt there."

For a moment she stood silent, amazed and shaken. "When do you plan to leave?"

"When we reach the cutoff-in two or three days." He smiled benignly, as if dealing with a temperamental child. "I'll be taking my daughter, so if you want to come along, you'd better start saying goodbye to all your dear friends. If you don't wish to come, say goodbye to Amy."

"Who would take care of her?" Her voice was panicky.

"Not your concern." His smile disappeared, replaced by a look so menacing and downright cruel she wanted to cringe. "If you decide to come, don't forget your dearest of friends, Clint. Be sure to give him a fond farewell because you're never going to see him again."

In an agony of indecision, Lucy walked away from Abner's wagon, so shocked by his announcement she hardly noticed the slight breeze, scented with evergreen, that whispered through the tall pine trees. After the ordeal of the desert, she should have appreciated the coolness of the mountain air, but her agitated thoughts lay elsewhere. What was she to do? She couldn't go to Downieville with Abner. But how could she leave that dear little baby in his care? By now, she loved Amy as if she were her own. If need be, she'd lay down her life for that child.

So here she was, right back where she started from, forced to let Abner run her life, only this time his hold on her was because of Amy, not poor little Noah.

Clint. She must find Clint. Maybe he could help somehow. She fervently hoped he could, because how could she say goodbye forever to the man she loved? How could she bear not seeing him again? Stepping carefully-there was only a sliver of a moon tonight-she walked to the campfire and stood in the shadows, just beyond the circle of light. For a time she listened to the lively strains of "Old Dan Tucker," played by Erasmus on his fiddle. Chatter and laughter filled the air. Some were clapping their hands to the lively tune; others were up dancing a reel. Where was Clint? She scanned the crowd but couldn't find him. She searched again and spied Charlie, but Clint wasn't with him. Perhaps his wagon? She slipped away, relieved no one had seen her, and walked to Clint's wagon. No trouble finding it. She always knew exactly where it was. Sure enough, as she drew closer, she could make out his form, sitting on the wagon seat, doing nothing, far as she could see, just staring into the darkness.

She came close. "Clint?" she said softly.

He looked down at her. She could barely see his face. "Lucy? Why aren't you dancing?"

"Why aren't you?"

He let a long moment go by before he spoke again. "I was waiting for you."

Now she was the one who remained silent. She couldn't get the words out, yet she knew she must. "I just talked to Abner."

"And?"

"He's decided not to farm. Instead he's going to Downieville to open a store, and he's taking Amy with him. Oh, Clint ..." She gulped, trying to curb the hysteria in her voice. "What am I to do? I can't let him take her."

In a flash, Clint sprang from the wagon and stood close, gripping her arms. "You're not going to spend the rest of your life with Abner."

"I could never leave Amy to his tender care."

"You won't have to."

"But how-?"

"You let me worry about that."

"That's what you always say."

"Have I ever let you down?"

No, he hadn't. She laid her hand lightly upon his cheek. "You know I trust you, but how can you possibly deal with Abner other than dispatching him with that huge knife of yours?"

"There are other ways."

"Like what?"

"Abner may love G.o.d, but there's one thing he loves more, and that's money."

"Are you saying-?"

"I'm saying Abner can be bought. Money-wise, he hasn't fared well on this journey. He had to dump all that whiskey. He sold his cattle for a song when he chose to take that lunatic shortcut. Now he's down to one wagon, four tired oxen, and whatever cash he has left." He cupped her chin tenderly in his hand. "Let me do the worrying and not let Abner ruin our night."

"But the money-"

"I said, don't worry. Charlie and I aren't in this business for fun, you know. We've earned a few dollars along the way. We've talked enough." He pulled her roughly, almost violently, into his arms. Heart pounding, she forgot about Abner and flung her arms around Clint's neck as his warm lips hungrily covered hers. Pressing against him, she rejoiced in the feel of every hard inch of him. It was as if a dam had broken, releasing their bottled-up pa.s.sion in one enormous rush. For weeks she'd lived on the searing memories of their kiss in the woods and that rainy afternoon in the wagon. With every grinding step across the desert she'd wanted it to happen again, and now it had.

Their kiss continued. His ragged breathing told her that he, too, felt the excitement of this moment. A delicious shiver of wanting flowed through her, caused by his kiss, caused by that rugged buckskin, tantalizingly masculine smell about him that made her knees grow weak.

Finally he pulled his lips away. "How I've wanted this," he whispered, shaking his head in wonder. "Lucy, darling Lucy ..." Before she could answer, his lips found the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat. She tilted her head back, wanting more, and more ... oh, she didn't want him to stop!

At last he raised his head, stepped back, and gripped her arms. "Let this be our night." His strong, sure hands caressed her hair, ran down over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, gripped her waist. "For one night let's not fight this ... this constant, d.a.m.nable, overpowering desire that hangs between us. It is driving me mad. You drive me mad."

No way in the world could she say no to this irresistible man. From not far away, she heard Erasmus strike up a new tune. "We can't stay here."

He took her hand. "Come, I know a place where no one will find us."

Clint led her to a secluded spot by the river where he scooped her in his arms and laid her gently on a soft bed of pine needles. Overhead, faint light from the half moon filtered through a canopy of branches. Far in the distance she could hear the music of the fiddle, now nearly obscured by the soothing murmur of the river flowing by. At last they were alone, all those weeks of unfulfilled desire finally at an end. Clint lay half on top of her and laid a hand over her breast. Feeling the warmth of it through the fabric, she uttered an "Umm" and pulled him close. Hungrily his mouth covered hers in an urgent, exploratory kiss that made her body tingle. Soon his tongue forced her lips apart. When it touched the tip of her tongue, an intense desire flared within her. He lifted his lips and whispered, "I want to see all of you."

She whispered back, "I want you to."

With maddening, delectable slowness, he unb.u.t.toned the six b.u.t.tons that formed a row down the front of her bodice. Quietly she lay beneath him, her aching need increasing as he bent to his task. When he finished, he laid open her bodice and caught his breath at the sight of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s exposed in the moonlight. "They're beautiful." He ran his hands over her nipples, touching them only briefly, but long enough that she yearned for their return. He kissed her lips again, this time using his tongue to penetrate deep inside her mouth. While he explored, she ran her tongue over his, another thrilling intimacy that made her want him closer still.

"Let's get these clothes off," he said. Swiftly they undressed each other. Soon, just as before, he was running his hands over her nakedness, stopping here and there to tease and explore. She grew increasingly aroused as he began a path down her body, kissing and licking as he went. She was acutely aware of every kiss, every flick of his tongue as it traveled until he reached her silky mound. "Spread your legs. I want to kiss you there."

With eager abandon, she moved her legs apart. What next? Jacob had never done more than just the one position. With him it was on and off quick and never a thought to her pleasure. Now Clint was going to kiss her there. With trembling antic.i.p.ation, she awaited the touch of his tongue on the most private, intimate part of her, which now seemed the very center of all her currents of throbbing desire. When she felt its roughness, her whole body quivered from the exquisite sensation. "Oh, that's good, so very good."

"Then I won't stop." He continued on, his tongue bringing her to ever higher levels of ecstasy. "You'd better stop. I'm about to explode."

He stopped at once. "Not that way." Again his hard body was atop her. "This way." She gripped his shoulders while he pushed his shaft into her, tantalizingly slow. When it was all the way in, with one quick, strong swoop, he turned them over so she now sat astride, gazing down at his face in the moonlight. She gave a joyous laugh. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Many. This is just the beginning."

Moaning with pleasure, she settled back on the long, hard length of him that pulsed inside her.

He raised his hands to caress the tips of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "Now you do the work."

"Like this?" She pushed on her knees, raised up, then slowly brought herself down, sliding over his hardness. It felt so good, she raised up and down again, then again, wrapped in a sensuous rhythm that sent her to new heights of arousal. At last, her body flooded with desire, she hurtled beyond the point of no return. "Oh, I'm going to ... it's ... oh, oh!"

The hot tide of pa.s.sion that had built within her exploded, sending her into a paroxysm of shuddering ecstasy. The next instant, she heard him gasp, felt his grip tight on her thighs, and knew he had exploded, too.

They collapsed on the bed of pine needles, lying exhausted in each other's arms. Finally he propped himself up on one elbow. "How was it?"

"Mmm," she ran her fingers over his bare chest. "Until the day I die, I'll never forget this night. My sister was right."

"Right about what?" He ran a loving, leisurely finger along her cheek.

"She said that that part of a marriage is a beautiful thing. That's why I was so disappointed when Jacob ... well, he just didn't-"

"I know."

"Never in all the time I was married did I ..."

"But tonight?"

"Ah, yes." Clint would laugh if she quoted Sarah exactly, telling him she'd been carried away on the wings of love, but that's just the way she felt. Now, slowly returning to the real world, all the doubts and fears she'd forgotten for a precious while came flooding back. Would she never feel this way again in her whole life? She breathed a deep sigh. "You're sure about Abner?"

"Do you think I can let you go now?" Clint stroked her hair and trailed kisses across her cheek. "I love you. I never thought I'd say that to a woman. I used to think I'd spend the rest of my life in the wilderness, but that was before I fell in love with you."

His words made her blissfully happy, grateful just to be alive. "Do you think we could settle down somewhere?"

"Of course. After we're married, we'll decide where. You and I belong together, and Amy, too. G.o.d knows, he cares nothing for her."

Never to see Abner again ... how delightful to contemplate! "I dreaded the thought of going off to Downieville with him."

"You're coming with me."

"Tomorrow you'll talk to Abner?"