“Like I said. You took advantage of a vulnerable moment, treated me like a whore, and now that you’ve satisifed your curiosity, you’re taking the high road. Making me feel used.”
Grabbing her shoulders, he spun her around. “I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you, and I don’t apologize for that. I’m going to be wanting you for a long time to come, and I don’t apologize for that either. But nothing is going to happen between you and me on this drive. After the drive… that’s different.” He was starting to get mad himself.
“Nothing’s going to happen later or anytime!” She wrenched out from under his hands. “As a matter of fact I was using you. I was acting back there, practicing a scene. So don’t flatter yourself that I’m holding my breath waiting for the next time busy dedicated you can find a moment to take your pleasure. What happened was a scene from Home on the Range. I’ve worked out the scene now, and I don’t need you anymore.”
He was about eighty percent certain that she was lying. Nevertheless, her comments stung exactly as she had intended them to.
“Were you acting with Caldwell, too, Fancy honey?” he said sharply. “Practicing an interior seduction scene?”
When she didn’t say anything, he knew he’d scored a point. Jealousy, sudden and hot, burned his chest. He couldn’t stand to think about Caldwell kissing her, putting his hands on her. He couldn’t tolerate the thought of any man touching her.
“Jack was a mistake,” she said finally. “I seem to be very good at making mistakes.”
He wanted to know just how much of a mistake Caldwell had been. How far had it gone between them? “Caldwell doesn’t seem to think so. From what I heard, he believes the two of you are going to get real cozy on this drive. Pick up where you left off, I believe he said. Just where was that, Freddy? Where did you leave off with that son of a bitch?”
She whirled on him. “Jack’s a gambler, a womanizer, a man with the morals of a snake. But he’s also the only man in Klees who was willing to be seen in public with me! The only reason no one knew I was seeing him is because I wanted it that way. Not him. Knowing that he didn’t give a damn what other people thought about him or me meant the world to me! I’ll always be grateful to Jack Caldwell because he came to my door when I thought I was dying of loneliness and he reminded me that some men don’t believe every actress is a whore!”
Dal would be picking her speech apart and thinking about it for a long time.
“As for getting cozy with Jack on this drive,” she continued, practically nose to nose with him, “that isn’t going to happen because he’s Lola’s next husband and because I don’t trust him. I’m finished with him, and, mister, I’m finished with you!”
Dal let her stamp off and followed a few paces behind. Her defense of Caldwell ate at him, and he didn’t like it that she assumed he condemned her for going onstage. Finally, he had inexplicably shifted from “This can’t happen again” to wanting her so much that his groin ached. It was a relief to reach the campsite and get away from her.
As usual after a stampede, everyone in camp was awake and stirred up. The first person he saw was Jack Caldwell. Caldwell, Luther, and Hamm had come to the main camp and stood near the chuck wagon drinking coffee and watching Alex swab out a gash on Dan Clouter’s thigh. Caldwell watched Freddy stride toward the coffeepot hanging over the fire.
Frowning, Dal made himself focus on business instead of taking a swing at Caldwell as he wanted to. He turned his gaze on Daniel Clouter. “How bad?”
Daniel had dropped his pants and long johns so Alex could doctor the gash, and he stood hunched over, his hands cupped over his privates, his face flaming. “Not too bad,” he said between his teeth, sucking in a breath as Alex washed out a four-inch cut with medicinal alcohol. She leaned forward in her wheelchair, her face stony and concentrated on the job at hand.
“Anyone else get hurt?” he asked her, watching Freddy out of the corner of his eyes.
After reporting several minor injuries, Alex looked up. “Are we going to have midnight stampedes all the way to Abilene?”
“Possibly. But you’re handling it just fine.” Alex continued to surprise him. She wasn’t much of a cook, he didn’t know if she ever would be, but she did manage to put out a meal. He was beginning to rely on Alex to maintain a cool head in any crisis that didn’t directly threaten her. Maybe she fell apart after she’d doctored the boys and after every meal, maybe she wept in the privacy of her bedroll, but when duty called, she grimly did what was needed.