The Temptress (Montgomery/Taggert 8) - Page 3

Chris watched as Asher heaved himself into the saddle. He acted as if he were more used to the comfort of a buggy than being on horseback. “Professional curiosity. Do you know why my father hired this man? What are his qualifica

tions for leading us through the forest?”

Asher shrugged as he mounted. “He’s been there before, I guess, but he’s an odd one. Doesn’t seem to like people at all, always puts his bedroll outside the campsite, never wants to ride with anyone, and he doesn’t like to talk. Ask him a question about himself and he refuses to answer. I’d like to know where your father got him too.”

“Knowing my father, you probably don’t want to learn the entire truth of whatever he’s done,” Chris said under her breath. When she got home, she was going to give her father a piece of her mind about this ridiculous kidnapping.

At sundown, they heard the whistle again and Asher halted her as he went ahead into the trees, returning minutes later with two fresh horses.

“Did you suggest to him that we might like to rest?” Chris asked as she mounted the horse.

“I most certainly did,” Asher said. He looked more tired than Chris felt and she thought she was probably more accustomed to riding long hours than he was. “But we have to go on. Ty wants to get to the edge of the forest before we halt. But he says we’ll have an entire day of rest when we get there.”

“Ty,” Chris murmured as she mounted. She spent the next several hours as they jogged along wondering about this mysterious man who came into her room and held her, watched her dress, then disappeared to lead them through a forest that was said by the Indians to be haunted. And why had her father hired him? And who was Prescott? He didn’t seem to know much more about traveling through this land than she did, but he’d been chosen as half of the rescue team. What in the world was her father up to?

Chris had plenty of time to puzzle over the facts since they continued riding all night. Her questions kept her mind alert and kept her from feeling the absolute exhaustion that ran through her. They’d had no sleep or rest for two days and two nights now.

When Chris was beginning to weave in the saddle and twice she had nearly fallen off, she thought she saw a light through the trees. Blinking several times to clear her vision, she began to be more sure of what she saw. Somehow, she knew it was a fire built for them. “Otherwise, Ty wouldn’t let us get so near,” she murmured to herself.

“Mr. Prescott,” she called and succeeded in waking him from where he slumped forward in his saddle. “Look ahead.”

There was renewed energy as they urged the horses on toward the fire and all Chris could think of was finally being allowed to stop and sleep. Even as she was still moving, she began to unfasten the straps at the back of the saddle that held her sleeping roll.

When they did halt, Chris dropped her bedroll onto the ground, then fell on top of it and was asleep in an instant.

She had no idea how long she slept before something woke her. She opened her heavy eyelids. It was still dark but there was a faint hint of early morning light and in it, she could see outlined a man wearing a wide brimmed hat moving almost silently as he unsaddled the horses and gave them food and water.

Chris half slept, half waked as she watched him and even when he began to walk toward her, she still didn’t awaken fully.

He knelt by her and it seemed perfectly natural when he pulled her into his arms. Like a sleepy child, she just smiled and snuggled against him.

“You’re on top of your blankets,” he said in that voice that seemed to rumble through her. “You’ll get cold.”

She nodded once while he straightened the blanket under her, then put the other one on top. For just a moment, as he covered the far side of her, she thought his lips were near her forehead and she smiled, eyes closed. It was like a good-night kiss from her father. “Good night, Ty,” she whispered and fell asleep again.

When she woke again, it was full daylight and at first she thought she must be dreaming, for around her was a place of fantasy. Tall, tall trees towered overhead, blocking the sun, everything covered with gray-green moss or ferns, everything so soft. It was as if she were at the end of the earth.

Near her, Mr. Prescott slept soundly. It felt to Chris that she was the only person alive on earth.

Slowly, she got up, stood and stretched. The eerie forest seemed to be utterly and totally silent. In front of her was what passed for a path, little more than a rut in the greenery. They’d come in from the right so now she took the left path.

She was no more than a few feet from the camp but, as soon as she turned a bend, she felt alone. She may as well have been a hundred miles away from another human. She kept walking, no more than a few yards on the springy forest floor, and she thought she heard water ahead of her.

Another few yards and she could see a rushing stream below and to her right, with big boulders in the water covered with patches of black moss. Suddenly, the only thought that Chris had was of the bath she’d missed two days ago. She thought with regret of the tub full of hot water that she’d had to leave behind. Why couldn’t the men have stayed inside the closet until she’d finished bathing? Of course they might have if she hadn’t opened the door to the wardrobe. Stayed in there and watched her, she thought with a grimace as she ran down to the water.

Now, all she could think of was getting clean again and she had her clothes off in a second and was wading into the water. It was icy and took her breath away but she wanted to be clean more than she wanted to be warm. She washed while standing behind a cluster of boulders so that if either of the men came from the camp, they wouldn’t be able to see her, and she was close to the edge of the forest so she could make a run for it if necessary.

She was just finishing her bath and regretting her impulsiveness because she didn’t have a towel with her when she thought she heard a man whistling and looked up to see Mr. Prescott coming down the trail. Quickly, she ran from the water, grabbed her clothes and ran into the forest—only to run smack into the hard chest of Tynan.

For a moment they were both too astonished to speak. The lush, abundant greenery of the forest deadened all sound and two people could walk into each other without seeing or hearing anything beforehand.

Tynan’s hands caught and held her, his fingers moving down her back as he stepped away from her just a bit so he could look at her naked body.

“Miss Mathison, I’d recognize you anywhere,” he said with a smile.

Chris, with a cry, pushed away from him and ran a couple of feet to get behind a tree, where she began to dress with shaking hands.

“The water’s really too cold to be taking a bath, Miss Mathison,” he said and there was laughter in his voice. “Not that I haven’t enjoyed all your baths, but next time, I think you should ask me first. I wouldn’t want you to catch cold.”

Tags: Jude Deveraux Montgomery/Taggert Historical
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