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He gave her a cold look and reined his horse in a half-circle. Her shoulders started shaking, but she wouldn’t cry. She glanced at Mary, expecting her sympathy.
“That wasn’t fair, Lorna,” Mary said. “He does care.”
“No, he doesn’t,” she retorted. “Not about us. Only those animals. Those stupid animals.”
More than anything, she wanted to crawl into the back of the wagon and have a good cry, but it would be just exactly what Benteen expected her to do. She walked stiffly back to the pan of dishes.
“Let’s get this cleaned up,” she declared. “As my husband would say, we’ve got to move on.”
Behind her back, Rusty and Mary exchanged glances but said no more on the subject. It was between her and Benteen. It never did any good to interfere between a man and his wife, even with the best of intentions.
Before they had the last of the gear stowed away, Benteen rode back into the noon camp, followed by young Joe Dollarhide with Lorna’s buckskin in tow. She wasn’t in any mood to be placated by being treated to an afternoon ride, but she wasn’t given any choice as Joe tied his horse to the back of her wagon and climbed into the seat to take up the reins and drive the team off. She glared at Benteen, cinching the sidesaddle on her horse while the other wagons pulled out.
“I’m not interested in riding with you,” Lorna stated when he finally looked at her.
“Come on. I’ll give you a leg up.” He waited beside her horse until she grudgingly came to him.
With the buckskin standing quietly, Benteen linked his fingers together to make a cup of his hand. She stepped into it and made him take her full weight to lift her up to the saddle, then ground her hard-soled shoe into his hands before drawing her foot away.
Benteen waited until she was settled comfortably in the sidesaddle and had her skirts adjusted, then mounted his horse. “Ready?” His face wore no expression when he looked at her.
At Lorna’s stiff nod, he sent his horse forward. They cantered parallel with the herd for a short distance, then passed. Then Benteen veered his horse to the east and Lorna followed. No attempt was made to break the brittle silence between them.
After they had traveled several miles and were well away from the herd, Benteen stopped his horse by a stand of oak trees and dismounted. Lorna didn’t know his purpose for stopping here, so she didn’t alight until Benteen came over to lift her down. Under the shade of the trees, she loosened the strings to her bonnet and let it fall down her back.
“I suppose there’s a reason for us stopping here,” she challenged, looking around. If he intended to apologize and romance her, she wasn’t going to make it easy for him.
“Have you ever shot a gun before?” he asked. “A rifle or a pistol?”
Lorna stared at him, a little stunned that her guess had been so wide of the mark. Her eyes widened when Benteen lifted the long-barreled revolver from the holster belted around him. He began removing the bullets; the click-clicking sound seemed ominously loud.
“Have you?” Benteen repeated.
“No.” Her father hadn’t even permitted her to touch the weapons in his store, fully aware that her mother would have been horrified if he had.
“I’ll show you how it works.”
While he began explaining the functions of the hammer, the chamber, and the trigger, Lorna had difficulty paying attention. She didn’t see why she needed to know this. What was more, she didn’t want to know anything about guns.
“Here.” He held out the pistol to her. “Get the feel of it.”
She hid her hands behind her back. “No.” She refused to touch it and eyed him with a wary frown.
Benteen was patient. “Take it. It isn’t loaded.”
“What’s happening, Benteen?” A wave of uneasiness washed through her. “Ever since we left Fort Worth, you seem to be changing right in front of my eyes. When you were courting me, you were always kind and attentive. You never raised your voice to me. Lately, you’re always snapping at me about something. You just get harder and harder every day. What happened to the man I knew in Fort Worth—the man I mar
ried? I’m sure he wouldn’t be insisting that I learn how to shoot a gun.”
“There’s a big difference between Fort Worth and here. There aren’t any sheriffs who will come if there’s trouble. There aren’t any streets or roads. You can’t depend on anyone but yourself,” Benteen stated. “This country weeds out the cowardly and the weak. You have to be hard if you’re going to survive. You can’t fight this land and make it bend to what you want. You have to adapt to it. I’m not really any different, Lorna. The man you knew in Fort Worth was what the town allowed me to be.”
Once she wouldn’t have understood what he was saying, but she had lived on the trail for more than a month. There were so many things she accepted that would have repulsed her before.
“Maybe it isn’t just you,” she admitted. “Look at me and how different I am. I’ve worn the same dress for days without washing it. I haven’t bathed since we left Fort Worth. My hands. My face. My hair is practically caked with dust and grime.” She lifted her gaze to him, bewildered by her own changes. “I never used to be cross. When you’re short with me, I just want to hit back.”
“I’ve noticed.” His voice was dry. “Life’s tough enough out here, without there being trouble between you and me.”
For a long second they looked at each other; then, with a little cry, Lorna went into his arms, tilting her head for his kiss. His arms crushed her to his solid male length, the pistol still held in his hand. Their lips moved hungrily together, as if clinging to something they’d almost lost. The sweaty, dusty smell of him was blocked out. There was only the hard vitality of his body and the satisfying pressure of his mouth on hers.
