“It’s at this point that you’re supposed to accept my apology,” she instructed.
“If it will get that damned bonnet on your head any quicker, I’ll accept your most humble apologies.”
She bit back her objections to his profanity, his reference to her “most humble” apologies and his entirely offensive manner. Instead she concentrated on unknotting the damned snarl that had—
Victoria winced. Goodness, the crude man was already proving to have a corrupting effect upon her moral character. She never swore. Not when being falsely accused of misconduct with her sister’s beau, not when an unsympathetic wagon master refused to wait for her, not when dealing with unrepentant criminals.
She governed her life by a high set of principles. And it was especially important now that she adhere to that superior code of conduct. After all, when she reached Trinity Falls, she would be instructing a young woman in the elements of being a proper lady, as well as handling the girl’s general education. It wouldn’t do at all for Victoria to show up in her new environment contaminated by her association with Logan Youngblood.
It was she who needed to exert a positive influence upon him. Surely, with a diligent effort upon her part, he could be dissuaded from his wayward ways.
The knot finally loosened enough for her to free the ribbons. She wasted no time in securing the hat to her head.
“We’re not going over the mountains,” Youngblood said. “There are trails and passes I’m hoping to get this wagon through. Once we’re shielded by the forest, I’ll feel better.”
“I suppose it does make sense for us to make ourselves less conspicuous,” she conceded reluctantly. The thought of entering the mysterious denseness of the wooded wilderness, however, was daunting to a city girl like herself. It seemed that it would be very easy to become lost among those pines that grew so astonishingly close to each other. It looked as if even the sunlight had to struggle to penetrate the lightly packed clusters of trees. “Are you sure you know the way to Trinity Falls?”
It was clear to Logan that Victoria Amory did not have the slightest confidence in his abilities to get her safely to civilization. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised by her lack of trust. She had the lowest opinion of him of anyone he’d ever met, and that probably included Colonel Windham.
She sat next to him with that pitiful scrap of mangled fabric on her head and still managed to appear as composed as a schoolmistress about to call her class to order. He supposed she was just naturally bossy.
He limited himself to answering, “I’ve lived in the West for a while now.”
“In these hills?” she asked, obviously still needing reassurance.
He raised the whip to get the team moving again. “No, I’ve lived in town.”
No doubt dividing his time between saloons and the city jail, Victoria thought.
Logan maneuvered the wagon off the road, taking an upward strip of flattened grass that wound northward through the pines. Sharp-needled branches scraped their canvas-covered canopy. The ride became rougher. Miss Amory latched on to the side of her seat like a limpet stuck to a ship’s hull.
“I’m not so sure this is a good idea,” she said, her voice a virtual squeak. “I don’t have a map we can refer to.”
“I don’t need a map.”
“Forgive me for not having more confidence in you,” she began, using that snippy tone of hers. “But I was warned most forcibly by the wagon master to remain on the main road.”
“You can bet that if he was in our situation, he would try to make himself invisible to the Indians, too.”
The wagon took another sharp lurch. Victoria almost bounced off her seat. He reached out and pulled her to him.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Keeping you from breaking your neck,” he answered grimly. She felt so small and fragile next, to him. Again a strong sense of protectiveness surged within him. It wasn’t a feeling he welcomed, but he seemed unable to fight it. “If we were going at a slower pace, I’d let you walk. It would mean less wear and tear on your.body. But for the rest of the day, at least, we need to put as much distance between us and the fort as we can.”
She stopped struggling. One of her palms curled around his arm. Her other hand gripped his shoulder. “If we leave the river, how will we find water for the oxen?”
“There’s quite a few streams that feed into the Ruby. Don’t worry, water won’t be a problem.”
“But how will you know where to—”
“Look, Miss Amory, this isn’t the time or place to have a discussion. I’ve got to concentrate on keeping these animals on a path that’s no bigger than a cat’s behind. We’ll talk later.”
He ducked, pulling her down with him, when a lowhanging branch threatened to take their heads off. Dust and dead pine needles flew as the limb smacked the top of the lurching wagon.
She buried her face in his sleeve. When she came up for air, she was coughing. “As long as you realize I’m in charge.”
Little gasps kept time with each bump they experienced. He didn’t know whether to laugh or swear at the stubborn female. She had the most one-track mind of any woman he’d ever met.
“Oh, yeah,” he growled, feeling the jarring in his tender ribs. “You’re definitely in charge.”
He would let her think that all the way to Trinity Falls.
It seemed to Victoria that her entire twenty-four years had shrunk to this jerky passage through the Idaho wilderness. They had been traveling for hours now. And there was no outward sign from Youngblood that he meant to stop anytime soon. Because the thickly timbered landscape blocked most of the sun’s rays, it was difficult to gauge the time of day. From her stomach’s not-so-discreet rumblings, though, she assumed it was well past noon.
The grim-faced man beside her hadn’t spoken for the longest time. But then, their violent progress discouraged conversation. She had to admit he was good with her team. She doubted she could have bullied them along this wild stretch.
Victoria marveled that he managed to keep to the narrow trail. There were instances when she thought they’d taken a blind alley and would have to turn around, but despite numerous twists and turns, Youngblood always moved forward.
They came to a relatively smooth section of the path, and the sounds of the wagon’s creaking protests softened. She heard the excited chatter of darting squirrels and the lively calls of birds.
“I can’t believe how close the trees are to each other,” she remarked, feeling disoriented by the thousands upon thousands of thin-trunked pines around them. Only inches separated the tall narrow-beamed trees from one another.
Her taciturn companion looked from the trail and gazed into the immense forest that embraced them on all sides as far as the eye could see. “Lodgepole pines grow that way.”
“It’s really quite beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked, succumbing to a need to share her appreciation of the untamed splendor in which she found herself.
He turned toward her. At the sight of his rawly bruised face, just inches from hers, she flinched. His facial injuries spoke of unchecked violence and the often brutal nature of men.
“Beautiful and deadly.”
His matter-of-factness chilled her. It was as if he was deliberately trying to frighten her. His intent stare made her wonder again if she’d delivered herself into the hands of the devil. Was he waiting for the right place, away from any signs of civilization, to do away with her and steal her wagon?
She fortified herself with a gulp of pine-scented