“Soon,” he told her. He took her elbow. “Come on. I think the first thing you need is a bath.”
She turned fully toward him, one of her hands going to his bare chest in a natural, importuning gesture. But the moment their flesh made contact, she froze, and he went very still. They both stared at her small, pale hand resting on his hard, dark abdomen. She started to remove it.
He took it in his. “Jesu,” he said. Her nails were torn and had been bleeding. Dirt was embedded beneath them. Her knuckles were chapped and raw, her skin dry and leathery. There were scabbing cuts on her palm, and her wrists still looked infected. His touch was very gentle. Their eyes met.
He thought he saw trust, and his heart tightened painfully. “We’ll get you cleaned up.” His voice was too husky.
“Jack.” It was a croak, and she wet her lips, her pink tongue instantly drawing his full attention. He focused on her mouth—the lips cracked and split but so very beautiful. The urge to kiss her was overwhelming. To kiss her and take her and make her his. Why not? Shewashis.
“Did you trade your stallion for me?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
A slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Her own face mirrored it. It was Jack who finally looked away from her glistening dark-blue eyes.
The hunting party was riding out, a group of fierce-looking braves, rifles in hand, bows slung over hard shoulders. Half a dozen squaws were striding out of camp carrying baskets—obviously some kind of gathering expedition—while the rest of the women were cooking over fires and deep ovens, watching the children. The braves who had remained were sharpening implements, mending harnesses, making weapons.
They walked away from the camp to an area of the creek secluded by thick stands of oak and pinyon. Jack was carrying her dowry—the dress and moccasins. He laid them carefully on some grass, glancing at her. “I’ll just walk back a bit.”
She clutched the blanket closer but didn’t avert her gaze. They stared at each other before Jack turned away, reluctantly, his blood racing thickly. He wanted her, he wanted her now, and he had never wanted any woman the way he wanted her.
He paused beside a large, thick tree, leaning his bare shoulder against it. He could hear her dropping the blanket, and he instantly envisioned her long-legged, lithe, full-breasted body, imagined her turning and walking to the creek. He couldn’t help it. He shifted, his manhood rigid and aching now, and glanced over his shoulder. She was wading into the stream, shivering, her long, tangled hair flowing to her waist, stopping just short enough to give him a perfect and tantalizing view of her lush, rounded buttocks and long legs. He groaned beneath his breath but could not for the life of him look away. She bent over and he inhaled, a sharp sound at what she was exposing, and she straightened instantly, whirling, arms across her breasts, her navy eyes wide. Their gazes met.
It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to turn and walk back to the camp.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Standing naked in the sunlight, Candice watched him heading toward the camp. She was very much aware of her nudity and the tightness in her chest. Then, instantly, she dropped into the water and began to scrub herself furiously, darting quick glances around for any unwelcome Apache intruders. How could he have left her there alone? What if a brave appeared while she was naked and defenseless? And why did she keep thinking about the way he had looked at her? She was no longer so naive as to not recognize a look of lust and desire—the expression had been written all over his face when he had kissed her in the barn. Just as it had been now. Candice was agitated.
She dressed quickly in the items he had left. The dress and moccasins were butter-soft, and felt wickedly delightful against her naked skin. She didn’t hear Jack returning. She just suddenly knew he was there, and she looked up, getting another glimpse of hot gray eyes. It occurred to-her that he knew she was wearing nothing beneath the dress, and she blushed, but she couldn’t look away.
“Come here,” he said softly.
Candice stared, unable to swallow, unable even to breathe. After a beat he came to her, and for one wild moment she thought he was going to kiss her as he stared at her parted lips. Instead, he picked up one of her hands, and then before she could adjust to the quick disappointment, he was gently applying salve to the rope burns and abrasions. She felt heat rising to her face for her wayward thoughts.
His touch was extraordinarily gentle, the way it had been when he had bathed the dead Apache boy. His hands were large and warm and calloused—dwarfing hers. She was eye level with his naked chest and the heavy necklace he wore. He dropped her hands, and she looked up into his eyes. “Thank you.”
He didn’t say anything. She followed him, not back to the camp, but into the woods, trailing behind, trying to look anywhere but at his bare back, and wishing she could turn off all her thoughts. He started gathering saplings and brush.
Candice stood watching, until he handed her what he’d collected, filling her arms. He gathered another load for himself, and they started back to the camp.
After they deposited their loads on the outskirts of camp, they went back for more. It suddenly struck Candice what they were doing, and it shook her to the core. There seemed to be no other conclusion than that they were collecting material for agohwah, and if that was the case, did it mean they were going to stay there? He had said they were leaving. Had she misunderstood?
“Jack, are we building a gohwah?”
“Yes.”
“Does that mean we’re going to be staying here?”
He didn’t look at her. “Just until you’re healed up,” he said.
She was afraid to ask what would happen afterward. “Then will you take me home?” Her voice trembled.
This time he did look at her. “Yes.”
They spent the morning outside the camp gathering saplings, brush, and bear grass. Around midday Jack told her to stay put by their pile of wood and grass on the edge of the camp, and he disappeared. Candice sat down on the ground and idly picked up stones and tossed them away.
