Chapter 28

NORA WOKE JUST as the first light from the sun started filter-ing into the chapel’s stained-glass windows. Such a beautiful kaleidoscope of color, she thought, and she was the only one en-joying it. The chapel felt peaceful in the morning, which was a nice moment to have after a tumultuous night. Jack’s dream and the ensuing argument had rattled her. It was ugly. Just when she thought they were making headway, they sniped and snarled at each other. She didn’t want the day to be about their argument.
Sometime in the night Jack had returned to the chapel to sleep, and he had slept next to her. It was curious to her that he should bluster at her one moment and then come to her in the darkness. He slept alongside her under the blankets. They didn’t touch but still shared the warmth. He could have gone to sleep anywhere in the chapel but chose to be at her side. Was it just part of his job as her protector on the trip? He must take his po-sition very seriously if he could yell at her one minute and then lay so near to her the next.

She eased her way out from underneath the blankets, careful not to wake Jack, who finally slept peacefully. Her breath came out in little white puffs and she longed to ease back under the blankets and into the warmth. Traveling in the winter was miserable, but since she couldn’t get sick, she supposed she couldn’t complain too much. She pulled her knit cap down over her ears and burrowed down deeper into her fur lined cloak. Quietly, she left the chapel to relieve herself. It was such a beau-tiful morning, she breathed the crisp air deep into her lungs and meandered a bit, though she didn’t go far from the chapel. If Running Bull or Jack woke up and found her missing, they’d go mad trying to find her.

When she returned to the chapel, she watched the sun rise through the trees in pretty pinks and oranges. The chapel doors swung open and Jack came charging out, sans fur or any other warm garments to protect him from the cold and elements. He would catch his death out here in a shirt and breeches. He didn’t even have his boots on.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw her, “I thought…” he began and trailed off. Silently willing him to continue, she cocked her head to the side and waited. “Damn freezing out here,” he muttered instead before turning and walking back in-side.

Nora sighed. So he was still angry with her for last night.

When Jack reemerged clad in his boots, fur, hat, and fur-lined gloves, Running Bull followed him. Running Bull grunted a good morning—or something to the effect—and disappeared into the trees. Jack and Nora stood in awkward silence until Running Bull returned with the horses trailing behind him.

Mounting in silence, they continued on their journey to New York. Nora’s stomach rumbled, but she dared not say a word. Jack had said nothing to her, so she hung back behind him. She hated the distance she felt between them. Would they ever see eye-to-eye? Would they ever be able to go more than a day without arguing? Her escort had a prickly temper, and she was still learning how to navigate it.

After most of the day in the saddle, Jack led them to a stream and dismounted when he found a suitable spot.

“I’ll head to the creek,” he said. “Perhaps I can catch us something. Then I’ll come back and see to the shelter. Can you build a fire? I think this is a good place to lay low the rest of the day and start out again tomorrow.”

Nora cocked her head at him. “Of course I can build a fire.”

He nodded, removed his fishing gear from his saddle bag, and left for the stream with Running Bull, keeping Nora in his sights.

Nora set about clearing an area and gathering stones for the fire. She looked to the sky and saw clouds moving in. She couldn’t tell by the temperature if they would bring rain or snow, but either would be unpleasant. After she had her fire pit ready, she set her kindling, pulled Jack’s tomahawk from his saddle bags, and chopped up suitable pieces of wood for the fire. It was sweaty, hard work, but went a long way in letting out her frustrations. Once her fire was going, she set about building a shelter. The task kept her busy and feeling useful. She also found she enjoyed using Jack’s tomahawk. The blade was quite sharp and cut through everything with ease.

Once the shelter was completed, Nora amused herself by throwing the tomahawk at trees. She rarely hit her target. It was heavier than she’d first thought, and she couldn’t seem to get the weight right in her hand to throw it effectively.

Thinking perhaps some distance from her target would help, she began backing up a bit, stumbled, and fell back.

Right into strong arms.

Jack stood behind her, and he helped her regain her foot-ing. She hadn’t even heard him approach. When she turned to face him, they stood nearly chest to chest. Their breathing la-bored, Nora could feel the very air crackle between them. Jack lifted his hand and Nora followed his fingers with her eyes as he tucked some stray curls back into her hat. His hand fell to her shoulder and lingered before falling away.

Nora cleared her throat and raised the tomahawk. “It’s top heavy,” she said, as they both looked at the tool. “I couldn’t seem to learn how to throw it. I didn’t hit a thing.”

Jack gently took the tomahawk from her hand. “I’ll teach you if you want to learn.”

Nora took a step back. “That would be wonderful. I look forward to it.” The charged air still hung between them and she took another step back, her eyes looking for anywhere to make contact but the man in front of her. With a different tension be-tween them now, she thought she might want to go back to the sniping.

Jack stepped back himself, then lamely held up the fish. “Dinner.”

“Yes, well,” Nora said, clearing her throat. “Why don’t we get that started. Tomahawk lessons can wait until tomorrow.”