Chapter Seven
Bethany reached the cave a full quarter of an hour before Zach. She used the time to strip out of her damp clothes and warm herself by the fire, still fuming from the argument they’d had outside.
How dare he infer she didn’t know her own mind? That what she felt for him was a product of fear and helplessness? Hadn’t she proven she could be resourceful? She’d made it all the way to the coach, dragged her trunk almost all the way back to the cave, and yet he acted as though she was a silly little woman who needed to be rescued from her own stupid feelings.
When Zach trudged into the cave, pulling the heavy trunk, she didn’t even turn to look at him. He thought she’d say please and thank you to a grizzly? Well, she didn’t intend to say please and thank you to him. Never again.
Let him go back to prison. Perhaps then he’d see the folly of his foolish pride!
Her senses thrummed with awareness as she listened to him open the trunk and sort through its contents. She’d never realized how hard it could be to ignore someone.
After a long time, he moved toward her, draping the warm folds of one of her grandmother’s quilts around her shoulders.
“Don’t be angry, darlin’.” He knelt before her, staring at her with unmistakable concern. “I didn’t intend to hurt you. Don’t you know how much you mean to me? I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you because of me.”
She let her pent-up breath escape in a shuddering sigh, unable to hold on to her ire when faced with his sweetness. “I’m terrified you don’t want to be with me, Zach. I fear all this has been a convenience, a way to pass the time until the weather clears.”
He gave a rough laugh and sank back on his heels. “What do you want me to say? I love you?” He shook his head. “I’ve only known you for three days. How can you expect me to promise a future when I don’t even know if I’ll have one?”
Her eyes welled with tears. She huddled deeper within the folds of the blanket, feeling as though she’d never be warm again. “Of course, I don’t expect your love. But I just offered you a way out, a way for you to have a future, and you act as though you’d rather go back to jail than rely upon me to keep your secrets.”
He shoved to his feet with an exasperated sound and strode to the other side of the cave as though he couldn’t put enough distance between them. “Aren’t you listening to me? I would like nothing more than to do what you’ve suggested. I’d love a chance to see you again, to walk down the street with you and not have to look over my shoulder for fear someone was watching. I just don’t want to buy my freedom at the cost of yours!”
She cringed as his shouted words echoed against the walls of the cave. Part of her knew he was right. She was being unreasonable. He’d made it clear he’d only objected to her plan because he didn’t want to put her in danger. But deep down, she’d wanted to hear him say those words he’d mockingly thrown in her face. She wanted him to promise they would be together, not just for a few more days, but forever.
She’d wanted to know he loved her as much as she’d fallen in love with him.
* * * * *
Zach spent the rest of the afternoon going through their supplies, careful not to let his gaze fall upon his angry little companion. She hadn’t spoken to him since their furious exchange, and he was beginning to wonder if she ever intended to talk to him again.
He carried one of the heavy wool lap blankets over to the narrow entrance, hoping to figure out a way to rig it across the opening, trapping as much of their heat as possible inside. They had a nice little stack of firewood now, but he didn’t know how long it would be before they could travel, and he didn’t want to run out.
As he wedged the blanket in a crack in the wall, he thought back to the fight he’d had with Bethany, wondering what the hell she wanted from him. Why was she so angry? He feared she’d been angling for some sort of a commitment. She wanted him to tell her he loved her, even though they’d just met.
He should have known she’d expect promises and sweet words after their lovemaking. Women could never let passion just be passion. They always had to complicate it.
Rigging the blanket to his satisfaction, he paced the cave with restless boredom, stopping at the far end when his gaze fell upon the second tunnel. He hadn’t given it more than a cursory examination the first day and had been too busy with surviving since then to give it a second thought.
Dropping to his knees, he took the matches out of his pocket and lit one, poking his head through the hole and peering into the gloom to see the passageway stretching at least a dozen feet back. Like the entrance, it widened toward another room.
He glanced back over his shoulder at Bethany, but she was huddled in her blankets by the fire, still doing her best to ignore him. Shrugging, he pushed himself through the hole, and found he could crawl down the passageway on his hands and knees quite easily.
Within moments, he found himself in a room even larger than the first. His match had almost burned away, so he lit another, illuminating a deep pool. Warmth from the hot water surrounded him, making the air sultry and steamy. Striding forward, he leaned down and dipped his fingers in the water, finding it as warm as any hot bath he’d ever taken.
Elated, he went back to the passageway. “Bethany,” he called. “Come here and see what I found. Bring some wood.”
She poked her head through the hole, a mule-headed, irritated look on her face. “What are you doing?”
“There’s a hot spring in here. You can take a bath, if you’d like, and this second cavern is much warmer. Warm enough we’ll only need the fire for light.”
Her angry expression slipped, her natural exuberance bursting out in a tentative smile. “Really? A hot bath?”
He nodded. “I saw some soap in your trunk. Why don’t you grab it and get started while I move all our stuff?”
“I’ll be right back,” she promised, disappearing from view.
He started after her, filled with sudden optimism. Perhaps once she’d had a nice, relaxing soak in the hot water, she’d forgive him. God knew the prospect put him in a good mood. In fact, the mere thought of watching her bathe, watching her run that sweet-smelling bar of soap over her soft, pale skin, aroused him to a fever pitch.
