Somewhere in the back of her mind, something nagged at her. And then it came to her, unwelcome as the memory was. Her heart did a violent somersault as she anxiously reexamined the scene before her, hoping against hope.
Merciful heaven... it wasn’t Cutter’s gear that was neatly rolled and packed away, but hers!
Desperately, nipping at her lower lip until it was in danger of splitting, she tried to recall through her cobwebby thoughts whether she’d crept back to her own bed at some point during the night. But the view was all wrong—obvious even in light of her slightly hazed vision—and she knew without a doubt that she’d not.
Taking in a shuddering breath, Elizabeth mustered the courage to raise herself up from Cutter’s bed to face him. She spotted him at once, and thankfully, his back was to her as he readied their horses for the day’s travel. At least that was what she imagined he was doing. His movements were somewhat of a blur at this distance. That was the first thing she’d have to do when she got back to Sioux Falls—purchase a new pair of spectacles.
She was still staring when Cutter turned toward her, trying to focus her vision, and her face went crimson with shame.
What must he think of her now? After the shameless way she’d...
God, don’t think of that!
It didn’t happen.
Besides, he was sleeping at the time, so why should he remember?
What explanation could she give for sleeping in his bed? She grasped at several, but not one seemed fit, so she said nothing.
Cutter sauntered toward her, grinning as he tossed her his hat.
“Wear it down low over your face,” he told her solemnly, shaking his head with mock concern. He barely hid the belligerent smile that lurked behind those sensual lips of his. “Damn me, if you’re not getting too much sun.” He winked at her.
Elizabeth gasped, catching the hat as it spun through the air toward her. She gnashed her teeth at his smug expression. Had she expected a courteous “good morning” from him? Oh, no, nothing so considerate as that from Cutter McKenzie! He had to slip right into his provoking demeanor first thing. Come to think of it, like his boots, she thought he might never even have bothered to step out of it. It was too much a part of him.
She rose, crushing the hat vengefully onto her head, and stomped her way to the river. It was little more than fifty yards from the campsite, sparkling beautifully in the morning sun, and she mentally scolded herself for not considering a bath after supper last night.
She’d yet to put her shoes on this morning, and was glad of that fact, because she didn’t feel like stooping to pull them off. The inside of her thighs were still sore from so many hours of riding.
Not to mention the way she’d clenched her thighs together last night.
Now, why did she have to go and think of that?
Jerking her skirt up, she tucked it into her waist, glancing toward camp. Surely Cutter would know what she was up to and have the good grace not to intrude?
But she couldn’t be certain of that fact, and so she abandoned the scandalous notion as quickly as it appeared. The last thing she needed this morning was to be caught in her drawers again.
As hastily as she was able, she took care of her personal needs and then, with a weary sigh, yanked her skirt back out of her waist. With one hand, she held it out of the water while she waded her feet in the cool river. Stooping, she splashed a handful into her face to refresh herself and then considered her rippling reflection in the water.
Mercy, was she a sight! she thought, aghast, as she ran her tongue along her bottom lip... and she had the most god-awful taste in her mouth!
She’d scrubbed her teeth as best she could without asking Cutter for the means. He’d seemed amused enough with her other personal duties, as it was. But this morning she was desperate to freshen her mouth. She took in a mouthful of water, swishing it vigorously, cursing herself for the oversight of a toothbrush and powder, but to her dismay, it didn’t help all that much. Her mind toiling, she peered around for something of use... something grainy enough to scrub her teeth clean.
All at once, a thought occurred to her, and she felt absolutely brilliant. Sand, of course! There was plenty of it about... and though it surely wouldn’t be pleasant, it couldn’t be all that bad either. With the river so low, there were sandbars everywhere. Moving closer to one of the smaller ones, she scraped up a smidgen of the cleanest sand she could find, rubbing her fingers together, testing the consistency of it. Even once she was satisfied with its coarseness, she continued to stare at it a long moment, examining it for little crawly things. There were none. Still she was reluctant.
And she was desperate, she reminded herself. Without giving herself another moment to reconsider, she promptly thrust it into her mouth, grimacing at the grainy taste. Though, truthfully, after a moment, it wasn’t so bad. Scooping a handful of water, she quickly swished out her mouth, to find that it did feel considerably cleaner... though not quite enough.
Again, she scooped up a finger full, ignoring the little voice inside that told her this was very likely the most foolish thing she’d ever done in her life, and scrubbed her teeth with it, this time more vigorously, reasoning that perhaps she had even discovered some new method of cleansing one’s mouth—besides Sanitary, the Perfect Tooth Soap. Perhaps there was even some health benefit to be had here. Wasn’t mud good for the skin? Conceivably sand might also be good for the teeth. Her mind raced with the possibilities.
“You just about through here?”
Startled from her contemplations, Elizabeth whirled abruptly, her hand releasing her skirt, and flying to her hat. She was shocked to her toes to find Cutter standing so close behind her. She hadn’t even heard him approach.
Cutter stared, his face contorting with disgust. “What is that?” he asked.
Feeling suddenly three times a ninny, and realizing that her mouth was hanging agape, Elizabeth snapped it shut, covering it immediately with her hands. Her cheeks flamed.
“Jee-zus, Lizbeth!” Cutter muttered, sounding repulsed. “There’s plenty o’ jerky left over if you’re hungry.” Then his eyes took in her soiled index finger, and he understood.
