Page 36 of Wagon Train Honor
Correctly guessing what she meant, he chuckled. “Just my tunic.”
She crossed her arms. “I do have brothers, you know.”
He slipped out of the red serge. Underneath, he wore a white cotton undergarment. He rubbed his chest. “The thing gets hot and scratchy.” He held her gaze for a moment. His throat worked. “Seeing that man reminded me of my father.”
“I guessed as much.” Which was why she didn’t mean to abandon him as long as he was decently dressed.
“It makes me want to wash.” A careless shrug. “Not just the smell of that man up there, but the many memories embedded in my skin.”
“I’ll wait.”
With a slow, considering nod, he turned, knelt at the stream, and plunged his hands in up to his elbows.
The tension seemed to ease from him. His ribs expanded as he sucked in a deep breath. Her tension eased out as well.
Could she do something to make him forget the awfulness of dealing with the drunk and the memories it triggered?
An idea sprang into her mind.
Chapter 9
Robert hated letting Ruby see him at his worst, his most vulnerable. What could he do to erase the horrible scene and accompanying smell she’d experienced? To convince her he wasn’t wallowing in self-pitying memories? One way to show her he knew how to play popped into his thoughts. “Ruby?”
“Yes?” The gravel crunched beneath her feet as she edged closer.
He waited, hoping she’d kneel beside him. He sat back on his heels and prepared.
She sprinted to his side faster than he expected and dipped her hands into the water. “Yes?” She turned and flung water at him.
Just as he flung it at her.
The surprise on her face likely matched his own.
“I can’t believe you did that.” He managed to sound hurt, but it soon gave way to chuckles.
“Believe it.” Another dash of water. “Besides, you did the same thing.” Her laughter bounced along the water.
“You mean like this.” He scooped water over her, soaking her hair so it fell in strands around her face. Seeing that, he sat back. What was he thinking, drenching her like that? At least he’d been careful not to wet the pocket holding her sketchbook, but a drop of water ran down her nose and hung there before she shook her head to set it free.
She continued to splash him until he caught her hands and stilled them. Rising, he pulled her to her feet. Slowly, tugging her with him and snagging his tunic as he did so, he backed away from the water and up the grassy slope, where he urged her down to sit beside him.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
She shifted to face him. “I only wanted to make you think fun and happy thoughts. I know your past can make you sad.”
“It’s hard seeing a man in that condition. Such a waste. But I wanted you to know those feelings don’t last long. I was ready to get back to enjoying life.”
“Good.” She jolted, her eyes widened, and she reached into her pocket and slid out her sketchbook. “I forgot about it. But it’s dry.” She pushed aside the tendril of hair clinging to her cheek.
“Unlike your hair.”
“It doesn’t hurt hair to get wet.” Clutching her notebook, she lay back on the grass.
He lay back as well. “Too bad we can’t stay here longer.”
“You mean here here or here at Cypress Hills?”
“Yes.”
