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Morning Dove started gathering kindling as he saw to the horses. When he unpacked the bedroll and laid it out, his thoughts went to that first night. To Morning Dove, inviting him to lie with her and the images filling his head when she did had made him so weak, it had taken him long minutes to get up off the ground and join her. They’d stopped so briefly the night before, that there hadn’t been time for intimate conversations under the moonlight, but he hoped to rectify that tonight.
“Can you start a fire?” When she said yes, he reached for the rifle still sitting in the scabbard attached to Wind Chaser’s saddle. “Good. I'll rustle up something to eat that isn’t dried beef.”
It didn’t take him long to spot a rabbit. It wasn’t very big, but it was better than what he’d been living on. He carried it back to camp and was surprised to see everything was as it should be. The fire was blazing, their saddlebags resting close by, and Morning Dove smiled as he stepped out of the trees.
Together, they found small limbs strong enough for a spit, and he had the rabbit cleaned and roasting as the sun went down and cast their camp in shadows.
Morning Dove headed into the trees as he went to the river to wash up, those gentle rapids looking more inviting with every step he took.
Her bones creaked. Morning Dove leaned back against a tree when she was far enough from camp Ben would not see her. She had not ridden that far in such a short amount of time in—well, ever. Her body hurt, but she would cut her own tongue out before she complained about it.
They rode the entire day with only a few brief stops to rest the horses, and Ben’s desire to put as much distance between them and Silver Falls meant the pace he had set had been brutal.
She blew out a breath and pushed away from the tree, heading deeper into the woods, wincing whenever she stepped on sharp twigs. She would never leave home without her shoes again. Had Walter not burned all the things she had left behind, she would have at least had a pair to wear now. As it was, the bottom of her feet were one big tender bruise.
Her sore feet were a minor inconvenience, though. To be away from Walter, she would walk all the way back to Willow Creek barefoot and be happy to do it.
The sad state of her feet were only eclipsed by the unbearable heat. Sweat clung to her skin and rolled down her back and she was so hungry her stomach had been growling long before Ben decided to make camp and went to hunt them dinner.
It had not taken him long, thankfully. She needed to relieve herself so badly, her bladder felt ready to burst, and the sound of the rushing water from the river did not help. She had been tempted to jump in and let what happened happen, but she only had the clothes on her back so wetting her buckskin dress, then having to wear it like that, was out of the question.
She found a bush not too far from their camp and stepped around it, nearly moaning aloud when the pressure on her badder gave way. The forest was dark now, the sun's descent so low over the mountain it did not filter into the trees here. Shadows lingered and as she stared into the growing darkness, fear Walter was hiding in them had her scurrying back to the river.
Stepping out of the trees, she came to an abrupt halt as she saw Ben. He was in the river and appeared to be as naked as the day he was born. She could not force herself to look away.
Morning Dove stepped behind the tree she stood beside and watched him from the shadows. She had seen him with his shirt open before and the muscles over his stomach had been hard to look away from. His back was just as impressive. His shoulders were wide and tapered down to a trim waist. The rushing water covered most of his backside, but she could see a line from where the sun had tanned his skin around where the waistband of his trousers sat.
He bent and splashed water on himself before he ran his hands over his arms, leaving a trail of soap behind. When he turned to the side and lifted his head, she noticed a red mark on his neck. She squinted to see it better, and her breath caught when she realized it went all the way around. Her stomach clenched. It was a rope burn from when he had been hung.
Seeing it was a physical reminder of what happened that day by Willow Creek. Her anger at Walter burned anew at the sight of that red mark circling Ben’s neck, but the thought vanished when he turned and looked right at her.
“Care to join me?”
His words made her startle. He could see her? His smile was telling. Of course he could, and that look on his face held a bit of mischief. Her heart started racing as she watched him, more so when that knowing grin of his grew.
Thoughts of stepping into that river with him made heat race through her veins. Could she be so bold as to do such a thing? Running her gaze over him, watching as water trickled over his flesh, she stared for long moments—then stepped out from behind the tree and headed for the river.
Chapter Twelve
“The water feels nice if you want to come in.”
Ben continued to wash and ignored the fact most of his blood was traveling south as Morning Dove started toward the river. He didn’t know how long she’d been there, not that it mattered. She hadn’t turned away, choosing to watch from the cover of the trees instead, and the knowledge sent heat shooting straight to his cock.
She’d stepped out from behind the tree with her head held high. He grinned and ducked into the water, rinsing the soap from his skin and hair. When he surfaced, she was closer to the riverbank.
“Going to join me?”
She stopped and dug her toes into the grass. “Bathing with you would be inappropriate.”
He turned in a slow circle before saying, “I don’t see anyone around who’d care.” He grinned and raised an eyebrow. “And I won’t tell if you don’t.”
A tiny smile tugged at her lips, one side darting up before she gave the area they were camped at a look as he did.
Since leaving Walter’s place in Silver Falls, his only thought was to get away. To put as much distance between them and Walter as possible, and he was so tired, he could barely see straight. He’d been on the trail for days on end with little sleep, surviving off dried meat and not much else. He wasn’t sure how far away they were from Silver Falls, but he felt safe enough to stop earlier than he had the previous day.
The sun was low in the sky, the heat from the day not as unbearable now as it had been earlier. Short tendrils of Morning Dove’s braided hair clung to her neck in places and a fine sheen of sweat covered her skin. He knew she was hot and had to be uncomfortable. His own clothes had been sticking to him when he’d washed the rabbit’s blood from his hands. Feeling that cool water on his arms had been all it took to dig around in his saddlebags to find the soap he’d seen in there the day before. He’d stripped his clothes off and waded into the river, sighing in pleasure before diving in. He’d looked to the trees when he surfaced, thinking of Morning Dove, and wondered if he would have been bold enough to strip down if she’d been in camp.
She was staring at him, her lips parting as she licked them. He’d never wanted to kiss her as bad as he did at that moment. The kiss she’d given him that first night after taking her away from Walter was still fresh on his mind. It had taken every ounce of willpower he’d possessed to pull away from her. His body had ached to do more than share a few heated kisses, but it hadn’t been the time, nor the place for it. Now he wondered if maybe it was safe enough to explore whatever it was between them.
