It was a woman. Could it be possible that he'd stumbled upon Camille?
He crouched down and attempted to peer into the shelter, but whoever was in the shelter was proficient and had covered both sides.
"Camille?” he whispered. "Is that you, sweetheart?"
"Lucas?"
There was scrambling and then a figure, dressed in britches with long, loosed hair, scampered to him. Camille threw her arms around his neck and began crying so hard her entire body shook. "I was so scared," she told him. "I am so cold and hungry."
He smiled despite her state. She felt wonderful in his arms. Unharmed and, although upset, she seemed to be in good health. When she trembled, he hugged her tight. "You're safe. I've got you, darling. Don't cry please."
He held her for a long time, comforting her while stroking her hair, allowing her time to settle and calm down.
Finally, she took a shaky breath and loosened her grip on him. "Are you sure someone didn't follow you?"
"No one's been following me at all. I'm positive."
Her wide eyes met his. "How did you find me so soon?"
"I couldn't stand the thought of you out here alone. I suppose desperation helped. Your aunt, she told me the general direction you went."
"Oh Lucas." Once again, she clung to him with her face hidden in his shirt. "I am so happy to see you. The thought of never seeing you again tore at me."
They would talk eventually, discuss the notes she'd written and what it meant. For now, he'd let it pass and bask in the fact his woman was safe and sound.
"There's a small town not too far. Let's get you some food and a warm bath.” He lifted her onto his arms and carried her back to the horse.
Less than two hours later, they settled into a small room in a small inn. The woman who let rooms had ensured they ate well and although she kept stealing glances at Camille, refrained from asking why she was dressed so oddly and about the bruising on her face. Instead, she seemed reassured by Lucas' badge and concentrated on feeding them and drawing a bath for Camille.
"I can send my son to come and empty the tub later," the woman told Lucas.
"No need. Just leave it. My wife and I are very tired. Once we wash up, we plan to promptly go to bed."
"Very well," the woman replied with a smile.
Camille was so tired, she didn't resist him undressing her and lowering her into the hot water. She let out a happy sigh and her head lolled to the side of the tub. "This is heavenly."
He smiled down at the woman who had no idea what a beautiful picture she presented. "Do you need help washing up?"
When her eyes met his, there was warmth. "Join me. I'm sure you'll enjoy the water."
Not a fool, he undressed and slid into the tub behind her. She fit perfectly between his legs. Lucas pulled her back against him, careful not to move too much since the water threatened to spill over.
"Did Burns hit you?"
She reached up and touched her jaw. "Yes, he is a cruel man. I have to explain..."
"Not tonight, love. We'll talk tomorrow. It will take us into the night to reach Silver City."
Camille was quiet and he did not ask what she thought. He had an idea. But taking his own advice, Lucas decided not to delve into what her reasons were.
Taking the bar of soap that was left beside the tub with both hands, he began washing her hair. Once he was satisfied it was all soaped up, he slid the bar down the front of her body, his hands sliding over her generous breasts giving each attention. She fidgeted; her bottom enticing against his erection.
Camille’s head fell back against his shoulder when he continued his ministrations down past the soft swell of her stomach to between her legs. The apex promised so much and he couldn't resist caressing, touching.
A gasp was followed by a throaty moan. Camille twisted to face him and took his mouth with hers. She pulled the soap from his hands and began lathering his hair. She moved back and smiled at him. "You are most handsome, Lucas."
"I'm glad you think so," Lucas replied dunking to rinse the suds. Camille chuckled. "There is too much soap in here to rinse clean, I'm afraid." She went to move away, but he pulled her against him, taking her lips with hunger.
He wanted her, but more than that, he needed her. The craving was soul deep. Never had he ever felt so overcome with not just want, but appreciation, to be able to hold this woman in his arms.
Camille relaxed against him, her fingers raking through his hair. His hands slid down her back to cup her bottom and pull her closer.
Water sloshed over the edge, the splashing sound seeming loud. "Oh, dear." Camille looked at the floor. "We're making a mess."
Lucas stood from the water and climbed out. "Stand up."
For a long moment, she seemed enthralled by the evidence of his arousal and, damn, didn't that just make him even harder.