What if this is actually how I die? What if I freeze to death because I am too cowardly to tell him that I’m here?Naked, I tack on as a silent excuse.You are here naked.
I try to make myself harder to spot, huddling behind my rock until I can barely see him when he turns back around. But it’s still enough that my breath catches in my lungs when he abruptly tosses his hat to the ground, takes off his jacket, and starts to make quick work of the buttons on his shirt.
I shut my eyes out of respect for his privacy, but quickly rationalize that if I can’t see him, then I also won’t know if he seesme. Cautiously, I open my eyes again, but now, his shirt is fully unbuttoned, exposing a broad, muscled chest and a tapered waist. A line of dark hair that dusts his tan skin draws my gaze down his abdomen, and my own stomach swoops.
Handsome, I think again as I stare at him. A man fully grown and nothing like the boys in their fine church clothes that I used to have crushes on back in Boston. No, Aiden is handsome in a way that sends a thrill up my spine, in a way that feels as dangerous as the shining silver pistol that sits at his belt.
Well,had beensitting at his belt.
Noticing that her new friend is nearby, Tess chooses this moment to announce herself, calling out in a loud whinny that Aiden’s horse returns while his rider pulls his pistol and points it in her direction. I’m about to call out, too, to stop him when Aiden sees that it’s Tess and his arm immediately drops.
“Christ.” He looks down at the dirt, muttering, before his head whips back up. “Cora, you here?”
I seriously consider not answering. Thinking it might be betterto let him believe that Tess simply got loose rather than that I’ve been hiding behind a rock watching him take his clothes off.
“Cora,” he shouts, and I press my lips together to hold my silence until he starts, seemingly on instinct, to move in my direction. “Cora, are you—”
“Yes,” I shout quickly. “Yes, I’m here.”
My words have the desired effect of getting him to stop in his tracks, although now he knows precisely where to look when he says, “Are you all right? What in God’s name are you doing?”
“What do youthinkI’m doing?” I snap back, irritated now as well as freezing. “I was washing up. Just as you were apparently about to do.”
He looks down at his open shirt and hastily shoves the loose ends into his trousers instead of taking the time to button it back up. “Dammit, Cora, you shouldn’t be out here on your own. You’re still hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
“That so? You have your gun? Your knife?”
I don’t respond, my gaze shooting to my bag where it lies next to my dirty clothes.
“I’ll take that silence as a no.”
I bristle. “Can you leave? I was here first.”
“Cora—”
“Aiden,” I interrupt, the impact of my retort likely lessened a bit by the fact that I can’t stop my teeth from chattering. “I said I was fine. Now, unless you would like to stand there and watch me bathe…” He shifts his weight, his eyes closing briefly at the undeniable rudeness of the suggestion. “I will see you back at the wagon.”
I close my own eyes and listen for him to go, about to yell at him again when I at last hear his receding footsteps and then hoofbeats. Tess whickers sadly as she’s left behind.
“Traitor,” I mumble to her once I’m sure that he’s gone, notlingering another minute before climbing out of the water and going straight for my clean clothes. My skin is still wet as I pull on my undergarments and hurriedly pin up my hair to dry in the heat, not even close to relaxed again even once I pull on my old brown dress for chores. Myonlyother dress, I remind myself, as I stare at the remaining pile of my discarded clothes and wish I could leave them where they lie. Right alongside every awkward memory of that interaction with Aiden.
Instead, I take them to the water and try once more to remove marks that will never fade.
It feels so good to be home. To lie sprawled out up on the wagon bench, drifting off with a book in my hand, a small white flower pressed between its pages, and the lullaby of the fading summer wind in my ears. Ah, and one particularly surly cowboy who is currently blocking out the harshest of the sun’s rays.Perfect.
“Hello, wolf,” I greet him. “How was your ride?”
Aiden lets out an annoyed huff in response, staring down at me with an expression that is even more grim than usual. “I hope you’re real fuckin’ pleased with yourself.”
“Generally, yes.” His glare intensifies. “Not a question. I see.”
“You know, more than once,” he continues, folding his arms against his chest, “I have found myself asking God what particular penance it is that I’m serving.”
“And what has been his reply?”
“He’s kept his own council on the subject.”