The Scent of Jasmine Read online

  Pulling away from him, Cay slipped her arms into her shirt. “She was your wife and you loved her. I understand. Would you please hand me my shoes?”

  “We aren’t going to have another fight, are we? You aren’t going to stop speaking to me again, are you?”

  “No,” she said as she kissed him softly on the lips. “In fact, I don’t think I’m ever going to do that again. The next time you do something I don’t like, I think I’ll punch you in your old, ugly face.”

  Alex smiled as he lowered his eyelids and looked up at her in the way that had made many women forgive him for whatever he’d done. “Is that so? Old and ugly, am I?”

  “Warthogs are prettier than you. And if you don’t quit looking at me like that, I’ll put that yellow flower under Tim’s pillow, the one that makes him sneeze. He’ll be wheezing all night long.”

  Alex stopped his seductive looks and lay back on the grass, groaning. Since he and Cay had made up from their argument, she’d not moved back into his tent. Eli had said to Alex, “I think it’s your turn to sleep with the boy,” and his eyes said that he wasn’t going to give in.

  Alex didn’t tell Cay, but he thought Eli’s stance had something to do with the fact that Alex and Cay had made love in the tent next to Eli’s. To hide his embarrassment, Alex had turned away. “You win,” he said to Cay. “I can’t stand the boy’s whistles, much less his sneezes.” Twice, Tim’s very loud sneezes had frightened flocks of birds out of overhead trees—and the people below had been cascaded by a rain of feathers and other not-so-pleasant droppings. “I hope we never fight again.”

  “So do I,” Cay responded, but her voice was less hopeful. She wasn’t sure why, but she was dreading tomorrow. It wouldn’t be their little group of people, but there would be strangers at the trading post—and strangers carried news. She worried that fellow explorers had been to the settlement where Thankfull lived and asked questions. If law enforcement people knew Alex had gone into the swamps, maybe they’d do whatever was necessary to get there ahead of him, and they’d be waiting for him.

  “Don’t look so glum,” Alex said as he put his arm around her. “You could always go back to those men who asked you to marry them. Now what were their names?” Laughing, he walked ahead of her.

  “Alex,” she whispered. “They were all named Alex.”

  “I know him,” Alex said, and his breath was so tight that Cay could hardly hear him. They’d arrived at the trading post two hours before, but both Cay and Alex had hesitated. They’d taken a long time to adjust the moorings of the boat, and Cay had made the excuse that she wanted to see to her drawings. Tim ran off the second the boat touched land. After where they’d been, the trading post, with its half a dozen small houses nearby, looked like a big city. Mr. Grady and Eli had also paused, but after a while, they went ahead, but they walked slowly and looked closely at everyone who passed them.

  After a couple of hours and no one had run toward them with guns and handcuffs, Alex and Cay decided to go into the long, low building that was the center of the tiny settlement. It was where men came to take the furs they’d collected to exchange for goods and cash from the trader. He would then sell the trappings to the men who came down the river, and eventually, the furs would end up on the back of some rich woman in New York.

  But when Alex and Cay cautiously entered the post, Alex had turned pale, whispered, “I know him,” and quickly left. The young man behind the counter looked up from the bird feathers he was counting—to be used on ladies’ hats—and saw only Cay. He looked her up and down, as though trying to remember if he’d seen her before, then went back to the feathers. Mr. Grady and Eli stood to one side, mugs of cider held to their lips, watching what was going on around them.

  Cay slipped back out the door and began running, looking frantically for Alex. She found him sitting on a log not far from the boat.

  “Who is he?” she asked as she sat down beside him. She was trying to remain calm, but her heart was beating in her throat.

  “Believe it or not, he’s one of the rich boys from the race track.”

  “Did you take much money from him?”

  “What does that mean? You sound like I robbed him.”

  “Some gamblers feel that way. I want to know what we’re up against, that’s all.”

  Alex looked up at a tree full of white birds and sighed. “No, he wasn’t like that. His name is George Campbell, and at one time I would have said he was my friend. He was invited to my wedding, but he was out of town.”

  Cay didn’t like to think about Alex’s wedding. “Maybe he hasn’t heard about what happened to you, or maybe he was your true friend and won’t say anything when he sees you.”

  “Is there anyone in this country who hasn’t heard about me?”

  “To be safe, I think we should assume there aren’t,” she said. Her mind was swirling with things that they’d need to do if the man could identify Alex. First of all, they needed to stay away from him. They couldn’t let the man see Alex for fear of what he’d say or do. If he did see Alex, or even heard he was here, even though no one was here now to arrest him, how long would it be before the trader, this George Campbell, told someone who was going north? It could be just a matter of days before they were found.

  “I want you to talk to him,” Alex said.

  “Talk to him? To the storekeeper? Are you insane?”

  “Probably. After I married Lilith, everything I heard and saw is a blur to me, but maybe if George wasn’t there he won’t . . . won’t hate me so much.” Alex took a breath. “When George left town, he told me he was going to miss the way I stole everything he owned.”

  “Nice man,” Cay muttered.

  “It was a man’s joke.”

  “Then I guess I couldn’t possibly understand, could I?” she asked belligerently.

  “You aren’t going to start a fight, are you?”

  “How can you ask that of me? All I’m trying to do is—” She stopped because she realized she was trying to get into an argument. Better that than to face what was going through her mind. “What do you want me to talk to him about?”

  “I want you to find out what he knows.”

  “You mean find out what he’s heard about people searching for you?”

  “Yes,” Alex said.

  “I don’t know if I’m any good at lying.”

  “What would you be lying about?” Alex asked. “Tell him you know of me through my father. Isn’t that the truth?”

  “And do you think that Mr. Grady and Eli won’t know who I’m talking about? Even Tim will be able to figure this one out.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get them to come outside. You just talk to George and find out what you can. And I’ll be right there with you.”

  “Making sure that he doesn’t attack me at the mention of your name?”

  “Aye, lass, that’s just what I mean.”

  Cay swallowed. “All right,” she said, but she didn’t like the idea of being a spy. She slowly walked back to the trading post and stayed outside the door until she heard what sounded like an explosion in the direction of the boat. Immediately, Mr. Grady and Eli came running outside, and Cay stepped into the shadows.

  “What’s that fool boy done now?” Eli said.

  She gave only a second to wondering if he meant her or Tim before she went into the cool, dark trading post where the young man was counting a pile of furs. “Did I hear that your name is George Campbell?”

  “As far as I know, I’m the only one in Florida.”

  Cay started to smile at him in a way that she knew appealed to men, but she stopped herself. She was supposed to be a boy. “My father has a friend named McDowell and he has a son who—”

  “Alex?”

  “Right,” Cay said, her face lighting up. “Alex mentioned a George Campbell, and I wondered if you might be the same man.”

  “That I am.” When George bent down behind the deep counter to pull up more furs, Cay saw Alex slip in throu