The Savage Moon

Chapter One: On the Trail

"Now, you don't take too long. And keep an eye out on them cowhands. They can be awful sneaky, so I hear." Abigail James brushed her hair back from her face as she paused in her efforts to place her gaze upon her eldest daughter.

Cecelia smiled as she gathered her things together to make her way down to the river's edge. She slid her arm through the strap of the water canteen and turned to her mother.

"I'll make sure I have privacy. Don't worry. I won't be long." Cecelia didn't linger. Rushing off before her mother could prevent her escape, she hurried away from their small camp in the wagon train.

It was a short trek down to the clear, sparkling water of the river. She walked along the river's edge, upstream toward where the trees leaned out over the water, the limbs hanging down like a lacy curtain in the sunlight.

She laid down her bundle in the soft, green grass and sighed, a little smile tugging at her lips. She had been longing for this moment for nearly four days.

She was excited by the adventure that they were undertaking, but it was not an easy venture, and bathing had become even more of a luxury than she had previously thought. Peeling out of her thin cotton dress was difficult. The dirt and dust of the road, mixed with her own sweat had created a sort of cakey, residue on her skin, that she couldn't seem to be completely free of washing with a basin and cloth.

She slipped out of her light petticoat and shook her head at the ridiculous lengths that women must go to to remain fashionable, regardless of the discomforts and impracticalities. She left on her short chemise and stepped into the cool water.

She shivered slightly as the water level moved up her thighs. Taking a couple of breaths, she dove under the water and swam against the current as long as she could.

She came up for a breath and brushed her hair back from her face and swam closer to the bank to sit in the water and relax for a moment. The golden heat of the sun was beginning to take on the hues of dusk and Cecelia closed her eyes, allowing her head to hang back, savoring the last lingering sunlight.

"Well, I usually tend to go for blondes, but you sure do make a lovely picture."

Cecelia's eyes shot open and she swung her head around to find the person to go with the voice.

A man stood not twenty feet away, just as covered in road dirt as she had been, beginning to remove his outer articles of clothing. As his gun belt fell to the ground, followed by his boots, Cecelia gasped.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" She jumped up and started toward her clothes.

"Apparently, we had the same idea." He said, nonchalantly. "I'm taking a bath, Angel. You don't have to leave if you don't want to."

Cecelia noticed the devil-may-care grin on his face and her shame turned to anger.

"There are a number of places you could have bathed along this river. You could have chosen a spot that was not already occupied!" She stood straight and tall, hands on her hips, and had no idea of the tantalizing image she made.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm. Darlin, you might want to go on and get dressed now, before you cause me to forget that I'm a gentleman." His silvery eyes flashed at her before he pulled his shirt over his head.

"A gentleman, hmmm? What gentleman purposefully comes upon a woman in an undecent state of dress, without enough warning for her to repair herself?" Her face was burning. A mixture of anger and exhiliration rushed through her veins. She felt her nipples harden against the cool, wet fabric of her shift. His eyes were burning a trail across her body.

Shocked by her own instant reaction to the man, Cecelia reassessed the situation in her mind. She couldn't deny that her breath was caught in her throat, since he pulled that dusty shirt up and over his head. His chest and stomach were covered in dust and sweat, but that only seemed to emphasize the muscles corded down his torso.

He stepped closer to her  and she took a step backwards, stepping onto a slippery rock and losing her balance. He grabbed her quickly, his arm sliding smoothly about her waist, crossing the distance too quickly for her mind to register.

"I could've given you warning when I approached, but then I wouldn't have gotten my little peak at probably the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. Besides, I didn't know you were here until I saw you and by then it was too late." That devilish grin lit up his face again and his eyes crinkled at the corners in the sunlight.

Cecelia's knees seemed to have instantly turned to jelly. His arms were warm and she realized that she enjoyed that they were wrapped around her.

Looking up into his eyes, she couldn't help but recognize both the amusement and the heat that simmered beneath their stormy surface. The heat of their bodies so close made her feel breathless and she adjusted her feet and regained her balance, allowing his arms to reluctantly loosen their hold.

"I... I had better be getting back now." She hurried over to where her clothes were piled on a rock and slipped on her clean cotton petticoat and then a fresh dress.

She hadn't even bothered to ask his name, and here she was in compromising positions... she shook her head at herself and sighed. Her mother would have a fit if she knew. Well, she'd be sure to keep this little episode to herself. She keeps her eyes diverted as she hurried back up toward the camp.

            .               .                .

He watched her hurry into her clothes , nearly ning up the slope to the camp and smiled to himself.

This little wagon train excursion he'd gotten roped into might turn out to be less of a pain in the ass than he'd thought. Or more... That little piece of satin and lace he'd found lounging by the river like a little copper-haired mermaid could turn into more trouble than he'd bargained for.

Those green eyes of hers could drown a man. And that body,... which had not been concealed at all by the bit of fabric that made up that little chemise. He shook his head, attempting to remove her image from his mind.

Yep, that little minx might just mean trouble, he thought. Better steer clear... It's definitely gonna be an interesting summer.