Eugenia's Embrace

She gave him a look of utter contempt and put her hands on her hips. Then she eyed her mule. "What about my mule?" she asked, removing her traveling bag from around its neck.

"It'll find its way home, or might wander on into Cripple Creek. Whenever the mood strikes it."

"But the bobcats?"

"Don't you worry your purty head about it, woman," he drawled. "Let's just get ourselves where we can build a campfire for the night."

Eugenia straightened her back and held her chin up. "I do have a name, sir," she said, almost stubbornly. "It be Eugenia Marie Scott."

"That right?" he mused, reaching for her hand to help her to sit behind him.

She settled herself on the saddle, having never been so close to a man before, except for her Papa. Her Papa had kept all available "courting age" fellows from showing their faces to her. Her future was already charted for her, a future that only included the homestead and the running of it—after her father reached the age of retirement.

But now? It made these strange feelings flow through her, to place her abdomen so close to his behind.

But again, his smell distracted any pleasant thoughts that tried to surface. She placed her arms around his waist and tightened her hold. The sweet, crazy feeling in her stomach tried to take control once again, but she wouldn't let it. She took one last look at her mule, experiencing a few pangs of homesickness, and some doubtful misgivings. But she hurriedly brushed these thoughts aside. She had started something and she planned to finish it.

"What might your name be?" she asked, as the horse began its way through the darkness. She sank back onto the saddle. It shook her insides up as the horse began to gallop faster.

"My name?" the stranger finally answered. "You can call me Drew. Drew Jamieson."

Eugenia's voice rattled as she yelled into the wind. "How much farther?"

"Just a mite. Eugenia?" he said. "That's what you said your name was?"

"Yes: Eugenia."

"Lovely name," he drawled.

"Thank you kindly," she answered, settling herself more comfortably behind him. She could smell the aroma of his buckskin cape as the wind whipped its corners up around and onto her lap and exposed legs. She was afraid to try and reach down and push the gathered material down as it whipped around her. She was afraid that she too would go flying with the wind.

Suddenly, before her eyes, she saw something shimmering across the sea of blackness stretched out before her. Then she heard the rushing of water. He pulled the horse to a halt just as Eugenia saw the waterfall cascading down the mountain side, settling in a deep carved gorge, then trickling on outward into a million diamond glimmers beneath the moon's reflection.

"It's beautiful, Drew," she murmured. She felt awkward saying his name for that very first time.

"Thought you'd like it," he said, dismounting. His eyes looked upward, almost devouring her as he reached up for her. She had just about jumped down unassisted, but liked this being treated like a lady. When his hands found her waist and slipped upward to cover her breasts, Eugenia gasped openly. Then when she was safely on the ground, she turned her eyes from him and quickly straightened the gathers on her skirt and checked to see if all the buttons of her blouse were still secured. She watched as Drew began to rush around, gathering dried twigs.

"We'll get us a fire built, then I'm goin' to jump in that creek," he said.

Realizing the coolness of the night, plus the fact that this man was planning to undress—so close to her—sent ripples of chills through Eugenia.

"It's mighty cold," she said, hugging her arms around her once again. She was glad to see the fire take hold. She worked her way to it, bent over, and placed her hands over the flames.

"Never too cold for me," Drew said. He slowly began to remove his clothes. Eugenia sat spellbound, growing more full of wonder with each piece discarded. But, when he got down to his red long Johns she turned her head away.

"Embarrassin' you, huh?"

She didn't answer. She kept her head turned until she heard a loud splash of water. Slowly she turned her head back around to let her eyes search for him in the water. Something made her want to see him after all, maybe find out the mysteries of a man, but she only found his head visible as his gaze met hers.

"Feels mighty powerful good," he shouted. "You should join me."

She swallowed hard, realizing that he had caught her looking. Had he even guessed her thoughts? She continued to sit there, shivering, wishing he would hurry. She felt the campfire's warmth, but yet there was something else causing her insides to quiver…

When he did reappear before her, he was fully clothed. She looked at him more closely. He didn't look much different clean than dirty. Not with the thick beard covering all his facial features. But he did smell better. Her eyes went to his hair. It was cut short, and was extraordinarily curly. But she couldn't help but like its appearance. It made him different.

She continued to watch in silence as he pulled his saddle from his horse and carried it to the ground by the fire. His hands searched deep inside the saddlebag pockets. "I don't have much to offer you for supper," he said. "The time I usually spend hunting for supper was spent rescuin' you tonight."

"I'm sorry," Eugenia said.