Mountain Laurel Read online

  ’Ring didn’t answer, but he slipped a knife inside his boot, then stood up and looked down at Toby, his weathered old face wrinkled into a grimace of worry. “I’ll be all right,” ’Ring said. “Don’t be such an old woman. It’s something I have to do. I don’t know why those fools allowed her to go off on her own, but they did and now those men who were following her are closing in. I have to—”

  “Like you had to carry me out that time?” Toby snapped.

  ’Ring grinned. “Just like that. Now, sit down and stop your worrying. I’ll get the woman and take her back to the coach and give those…guards of hers a piece of my mind. I’ll meet you at the coach later today, and from now on we’ll travel with her.” He rolled his shirt-sleeves to above his forearms. “I’m beginning to see why General Yovington wanted someone with her. She needs protection.” He stopped. “And I mean to find out what she’s up to, what she’s so eager to conceal.” He turned away toward the rocks, then turned back, and for a second clasped Toby’s shoulder. No one would have guessed that the old man who seemed so quarrelsome was often like a second mother to ’Ring. “Go on or I’ll put you up for a promotion and when we get back to the post you’ll have a whole troop of men under your care.”

  “Hell,” Toby snorted. “I’ll desert. You go on. I got more to do than concern myself with your attempts to get yourself killed.”

  Maddie stopped moving and listened. She could hear the man she was to meet thrashing through the underbrush. Slowly, as silently as creaking leather would permit, she dismounted and began to lead her horse up the hillside. As the noise grew louder, her heart began to pound. In spite of her anger and outrage at the kidnapping scheme of which this man was a part, she must not offend him. She must be as gracious and polite as possible. She must—

  She took in her breath sharply as Captain Montgomery dropped from a tree, no more than a foot in front of her. She put her hand to her heart. “You frightened me!” she complained, then recovered herself. “What in the world are you doing here?” Her mind was beginning to race. She had to get rid of him.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” he said. “You told me you had people to protect you, yet here you are alone.”

  “I want to be alone.” She took a deep breath and tried to think. “Captain Montgomery, you must go away. I have something I must do and I must do it alone. It has to do with, ah…being a female.” Perhaps he’d be put off by the mystery of that statement.

  He leaned against a tree and folded his arms across his chest. “Now, what could that possibly be?” He looked her up and down. “Couldn’t be childbirth. I don’t imagine your monthlies necessitate your leaving camp, nor—”

  “You are a despicable man, and I won’t listen to any more of your vulgarities. I’ve told you before that I don’t need or want your protection.” Holding her horse’s reins, she started out around him, but he blocked her path, and when she went another way, he blocked that too. “All right, what do you want?”

  “Information. Who’re the men you’re meeting?”

  She couldn’t tell him the truth and jeopardize Laurel. Think, Maddie, think, she told herself. “One of them is my lover,” she said at last, and hoped she looked sincere.

  “So why didn’t he visit you at your camp?”

  She turned away from him while she thought. “Because…because…” She looked back at him. “Because he’s an outlaw. Oh, Captain, I know he’s done wrong. I mean, he’s not a murderer, but he has robbed a few banks so he can’t show himself and I do want to see him.” She took a step closer to him. Usually, men who’d heard her sing didn’t need any more from her in the way of flirtation, but this was one of those stupid men who had preconceived ideas about opera. She smiled up at him. He was a soldier, a man who’d been living at a fort with lots of other men, so she probably wouldn’t have to do much to flatter him.

  “Surely, Captain, even you must understand about love. I love the man even if he has done some things wrong.” She stepped even closer. His arms were down at his sides, his shirt half unbuttoned, and there was a tear just at the top of his ribs on his left side. She ran her fingertip across the skin showing through the tear. “You wouldn’t begrudge me a few minutes alone with the man I love, would you?”

  He didn’t answer, so she looked up at him. He was looking down at her with such a patronizing, knowing smirk that she stepped away.

  “Tell me, do you lie out of habit or just to get your own way? And do most people believe your lies?”

  She glared at him. “Why, you sleep-insider, what do you know about truth and lies? What do you know about survival?” Before she thought about what she was doing, she ran at him, her head down, and rammed him in the stomach, and when he gave a quiet whoosh of air, she kicked his shin hard with her stiff-soled boots, then bit him on the chest.

  He grabbed her around the waist, and they went tumbling to the ground as he put his hand below her chin to keep her from biting him again. When he had her pinned, her small body under his large one, he looked at her. “What the hell’s wrong with you? What are you up to? What are you doing in these mountains?”

  “Don’t hurt my throat,” she whispered. “Anything but that.”

  He saw that there were tears forming in her eyes and he released his hold on her chin, but he still lay on top of her, not allowing her to get away from him. He watched as she turned her face away, not wanting him to see her tears, and that seemed unusual to him. Most women liked for men to see them cry, he thought.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” he said softly, his face close to hers.

  “I can barely breathe with your weight on me, much less talk and, besides, you are bleeding on me.”

  He glanced down at his arm, saw the blood running and dripping onto her expensive riding habit. “Sorry. About the blood, I mean. It wasn’t easy getting to you. I had to come up that rock face over there.”

  Maddie twisted to look at it, saw the sheerness of it. She looked back at him. “Not possible. Even my father couldn’t climb that.”

  He gave her an odd look. “I could and did climb it.”

  As he looked down at her, his body on top of hers, his face close to hers, she saw his eyes darken and she began to twist to get away from him.

  “You won’t succeed in getting away, and I don’t mind telling you that I find the sensation of your struggles not unpleasant. You might as well tell me the truth.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, then cocked her head and listened. “He’s here,” she whispered. “He’s waiting for me.”

  “He has been for some while. Makes more noise than La…”

  She looked at him and her eyes were pleading. “Please release me. Please, I beg you. I beg you with all my heart and soul. Please release me and let me go to him.”

  “Maybe this man is your lover. Maybe you’re sneaking away so General Yovington won’t hear of this.”

  “Are all your brains in your trousers?” she hissed. “Isn’t there more in life to you than this?” She gestured, meaning his body on hers.

  He looked surprised. “Many things mean more to me than…this.”

  “He’s leaving. Oh, my God, he’s leaving.” At that Maddie became a frenzy of activity as she struggled to get away from him.

  He watched her for a moment, easily holding her but fascinated by the fact that she would fight him so hard. Whatever she wanted, she wanted it very, very much.

  “Anything,” she choked out through a mixture of tears and rage and desperation. “I will give you anything if you’ll let me go to him alone. Money. Jewels. I’ll…I’ll…” She looked into his eyes. “I’ll go to bed with you if you let me have thirty minutes alone with him.”

  At that, he rolled off her and sat up. “Go,” he said softly. “I will give you thirty minutes, then I come after you. Understand?”

  Quick tears came to her eyes. “Thank you,” she murmured, and started running up the steep hill, tripping over branches, a scrub oak scraping her face, falling ag
ainst a rock and bruising her hands, but never even pausing in her scramble up the hill.

  He watched her until she was out of sight, then leaned back against a tree and listened. He could hear when she found the man, and for some reason he gave a small smile. Somehow, it was gratifying to know she had received what she so much wanted.

  And what was it she wanted, he wondered. What was she after? All in all, just what in the world was going on around this woman? The longer he knew her, the more she seemed to resemble the eye of a cyclone, with people and events moving around her. He wondered if she knew about the other men following her, about the Indian, and the man even farther away than the Indian.

  He listened and could hear the raised voice of the man. ’Ring was on his feet instantly. Whoever the man was, relative, friend, or enemy, he wasn’t going to be allowed to harm her. ’Ring hadn’t taken ten steps when an arrow came sailing into the tree in front of him. Instantly, he dropped to his belly and reached for his revolver, but it wasn’t there.

  He looked around him but could see no one, hear nothing. The arrow was a warning, he knew that, for if it’d been meant to, that arrow would have hit him. But a warning of what? To stay away from the woman? If so, why hadn’t the Indian shot when ’Ring had been wrestling with her? Was the arrow a warning to leave the singer alone with this man?

  Slowly, cautiously, while searching the trees for any sign of the Indian, he stood and put his hand on the arrow, then pulled it from the tree. Crow, he thought. Odd, for the Crow weren’t a violent people. In fact, frequently the Crow welcomed the whites, ’Ring knew, because the whites brought wonderful goods that the Crow could steal—and they were thieves of the first caliber. ’Ring had heard that they could take a man’s horse and leave him sitting in the saddle.

  He looked at the arrow, at the little steel tip. Indians today liked firearms, but often used a bow and arrow when they wanted to be quiet. This Indian didn’t seem to mind that ’Ring knew he was there, but either he didn’t want the woman to know—or she knew already. And the Indian didn’t seem to want ’Ring to interfere with whatever she was doing.

  He lifted the arrow in a silent salute to the Indian then slipped it into one of his tall moccasins as he heard the woman who called herself LaReina come down the hill. His blood was dried on her habit, her hands and neck were scratched, and he imagined she had a few other bruises on her as well.

  She was silent as she went to her horse and he didn’t speak either. He’d already heard and seen enough to know that there was no use asking her what she was doing and why. But he meant to find out. No matter what he had to do or say, he meant to find out all the answers to his questions.

  Chapter 4

  Hours later Maddie was alone in her tent and at last she could allow herself to give in to her fear. The man she’d had to meet was dreadful. He had mean, hard eyes and, worse, he was stupid. She knew there would never be any reasoning with him about Laurel or anything else. He’d given her the letter, but he’d also demanded she give him the little pearl and diamond brooch she wore. It wasn’t worth much, not in money, but it had been a gift from her mother and it had belonged to her grandmother as well. Forgetting herself, she’d protested when he’d demanded the pin and she’d seen him grow angry. He’d yelled at her and she was ashamed to remember that she had been afraid. She was afraid for Laurel, yes, but she was afraid for herself too.

  She put her face in her hands. All her life she seemed to have been given whatever she wanted. She had her talent, the adoration of thousands of people, and she had her family, who had always supported her in whatever she wanted to do.

  Now, rather abruptly, her luck seemed to have run out and she was so utterly, totally alone.

  She glanced up when she heard someone enter the tent, and to her consternation she saw Captain Montgomery. They’d had to ride down the mountain together, on the same horse, but she’d refused to speak to him, and for once he hadn’t asked his hundreds of questions.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. “This happens to be my tent, my private place, such as it is. If I want you in here, I’ll invite you, and furthermore—”

  “We have a bargain, remember?”

  She frowned at him. “I have no idea what you’re—” She broke off because she did remember what she’d said. “You couldn’t possibly mean…”

  “You said you’d go to bed with me if I’d let you have thirty minutes alone with the man. I did, and I’m here to collect.”

  “I didn’t mean…” she whispered.

  “Didn’t mean what you said? Do you lie about everything? Is there even an ounce of truth in you?”

  “I am not a liar. I never lie. I never have the need to lie,” she said, her back straight, but her hands were trembling.

  “Good, then.” He smiled at her in a way she found particularly insidious. “Let’s get to it.”

  Laurel, Maddie thought. I’ll do this for Laurel. Besides, maybe it would be better this way. Perhaps if he were her lover, she could more easily persuade him the next time she had to meet a man to exchange letters.

  She tried not to think as she put her hands to the buttons at the front of her habit. She looked up at him. He’d put his foot on the trunk at the side of the tent, leaned his arms on his knee, and was watching her. “Sh-shouldn’t we turn down the lamp?”

  “No,” he said slowly. “I want to see what I’m getting.”

  Her face turned red and she had to look down to keep him from seeing the hatred in her eyes. She thought she might possibly kill him after this night. She would like to see him lying dead and bleeding.

  She finished unbuttoning her jacket and was about to slip it off her shoulders when he put his hands on hers and stopped. When she looked up at him, all her hatred, all her rage, was blazing in her eyes.

  “I’m glad those eyes of yours aren’t daggers,” he said, amusement in his voice.

  She jerked out of his grasp. “Let’s get this over with, shall we? I’m to pay you for allowing me”—she spat the word out—“to use my own God-given freedom. What does it matter what I think or feel? You’re the stronger one, Captain Montgomery. You’re the one with the strength to take what you want.” She jerked the jacket off her shoulders, and when it caught in her hair, she pulled harder.

  “Stop it,” he said, and pulled her into his arms, trapping her hands between them. “Quiet,” he soothed, and began to stroke her back. “It’s over now, no one’s going to hurt you.”

  “You!” she gasped, her nose smashed against his chest, but she didn’t struggle against him; she was fighting too hard to keep her tears in check to do anything else. “You’re going to hurt me.” She was swallowing hard and fast to keep the tears at bay.

  “No, I’m not, and I never meant to. I just wanted to know something and I found that out.”

  She pushed away from him so she could see his face. He seemed to be amused about something. “What have you found out?” she asked softly.

  “How much you wanted whatever you were doing today. You must have wanted to do whatever it was with all your soul if you were willing to go to bed with someone you dislike as much as you dislike me in order to get it. And…”

  He smiled at her so that she could see his bottom lip disappearing under his heavy mustache.

  “And what, Captain?”

  “And I found out about General Yovington.” He gave her a knowing look. “Undressing for a man is not something you’ve done very often.”

  “Oh?” She barely whispered the word.

  “In fact”—he smiled broader—“in fact, I’ll even go so far as to guess that you’ve never done this before.” He gave a little chuckle. “I also found out what you think of me.” He lost his smile. “I can assure you, ma’am, that I am not the sort of man to force a woman to trade sexual favors for…for whatever happens. I am a man of reason, and you may discuss anything with me without resorting to unseemliness.”

  He was silent for a moment, standing ther
e, looking at her as though he expected her to thank him for his noble act.

  “Man of reason?” she whispered. “You, Captain Montgomery, are the most unreasonable man I have ever come across. I have met mules who are more reasonable than you. At least with mules one can hit them over the head with a board to get their attention. I doubt very much if any such solution is possible with you.”

  “Now, just a minute—”

  “No! You wait just a minute.” She might not be able to outwrestle him, but the volume of her voice was a match for anyone’s. “Since I met you, you have done nothing but insult me.”

  “I would never insult a lady.”

  “You called me a traveling singer. You told me I must do what you want. Can’t you understand that you have no rights over me?”

  “My orders—”

  “Damn your orders to hell! You are in the army, I am not. I have done everything in my power to explain to you that I don’t want you or need you, yet here you are and this…” She pulled her jacket closed. “This! You humiliate me, ridicule me so that I am reduced to playing the harlot for you, and—” Her head shot up. “And for your information, I have undressed for many men, hundreds of men. Frenchmen, Italian men, Russian men. And not one of them ever called me a traveling singer!”

  “I never meant—”

  “Of course you didn’t!” she snapped. “You were just doing your duty, weren’t you? Imposing your will on someone else, weren’t you?”

  Quite suddenly, her strength seemed to leave her. She felt dizzy, her knees weak. It was all too much for her. Since the day she’d walked into her aunt’s house and heard about Laurel, she hadn’t had a moment’s rest. Since then her life, a life of music and good food and laughter, had disappeared. In its place was fear and hard beds and dirt and strangers. Her manager was gone; his comfort and humor were somewhere in England now. All the people who knew her, who knew her music and loved it, were on the other side of the world.

  She put her hand to her forehead and started to sink, but he caught her before she hit the floor, lifted her into his arms, and carried her to the cot. He went to the bucket of water—no pretty porcelain dishes anymore—dipped in a cloth, wrung it out, then sat on the cot and put it to her forehead.