Page 31 of The Hardest Part

They stopped to set up camp along the river. Levi leaned back against the wagon, staring up at the painted sky as the whiskey bathed his arid throat. He prayed to God for some guidance, but found none.

Outlined in the colors of the setting sun, Lucy stood at the fire. A shining beacon of light in the dark, his hope, and his salvation. When she looked at him, nothing seemed impossible.

“Papa says we’ll be at Fort Bridger in a few days.” Biting her lip, Lucy came over and handed him a plate of beans. “We’ll be parting ways there. Saying our farewells.”

For Walker, the post on the Blacks Fork of the Green River was the end of the line. He’d turn back while they moved on. It was likely he’d never see her again.

A pang of discomfort tore through him. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered, her golden eyes cast downward.

Gently, Levi lifted her chin, gazing into a kaleidoscope of liquid topaz, sienna, amber, and honey. His thumbs brushed her cheeks, and fingers sliding into her long, luxurious locks, he brought her lips to his.

Have mercy.

Warmth. Sweet, succulent warmth. His balls tightened in his britches. He took her mouth, cradling her head in his hands, andslipped his tongue inside. The moment he tasted her, he knew, somehow, he had to keep her.

“Stay with me.”

“You can’t mean that.” Her voice cracking, Lucy peered up at him. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Yes, I do. I know exactly what I’m saying.

“Stay. With. Me.” His hands sliding down her arms, Levi pulled her close against him. “We can build a life together in California.”

“I can’t.” Her bottom lip quivering, tears sprang from her pretty eyes.

“You can.”

“You don’t understand. I won’t be accepted there with you…or anywhere. By anyone.” Swiping beneath her eyes, she shook her head. “They call me half—”

“Hush your mouth. Don’t you dare say it.” His fingertips traced her lips. “You’re beautiful, and I want nothing more than to call youmine.”

He kissed her again, urgently this time. Laying his claim on her, Levi pushed his hardness into the softness hidden beneath her skirts. Not caring if Walker, her sister, or his came upon them, he vowed to kiss“I can’t”right out of her. And God help the fool who dared to speak of Lucy as anything less than whole.

They came apart, and laying her head on his shoulder, she said, “My Shoshone name isChosro.It means bluebird.”

My bluebird.

“It’s a lovely name.” He smiled up at a darkening sky, smoothing her hair down her back.

“My mother gave it to me. She told me they were singing when I was born.”

“How old are you, Lucy?” He hadn’t thought to ask until now.

“Sixteen.”

Good. Old enough.

To take to wife.

Then to his bed.

He’d speak to Josiah. Ask for her hand. They’d marry at Fort Bridger.

Jake cracked his window. February wind rushed in. It was cutting, but Billy had the heat cranked all the way up, making the air inside the truck dry and stuffy. He’d get a nosebleed, for chrissakes, and that was the last thing he needed.

“The fuck, bro?” His tone sharp, Billy glared. “It’s goddamn freezin’.”

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