Page 10 of Wellspring

Even that was enough for him to catch a glimpse of Webster kicking aside his union suit, which landed directly on his boots, enough for him to appreciate that Webster’s strong legs and backside were equally muscled.

Clearly the idea of washing fully appealed to Webster too.

Before the cowboy could turn, Erick dunked his shirt into the water and scrubbed the soap over the splashes of blood.

“I can swim,” he answered, wondering how helpless he appeared, since it would take serious effort to drown in the sluggish river.

He rinsed the shirt quickly. That would have to be clean enough, because he wasn’t about to put himself through watching Webster wade into the shallow water.

He squeezed out as much wetness as he could and set the soap on the bank, then stood.

“I will the fire start for dinner.” Hoping Webster was too engaged in washing to watch him flee, he pulled the damp shirt around himself. The fire would help it dry.

CADE SMOTHERED a sigh of disappointment when Heller left the river without even taking off his pants.

He’d spent enough time in the white man’s world not to hope Heller would strip all the way down like Cade did without thought, but he’d hoped for a wet union suit to give him a hint of the body beneath Heller’s clothes.

The Comanche hadn’t named him Wolf for nothing, though.

Even as a young child, he’d seen more than most, and in his peripheral vision, Cade had soaked up the sight of Heller’s bare chest. He might claim to have lived a life of fairly idle luxury before coming to Texas, but his body said otherwise.

He wasn’t bulky, but the muscles he had were well-defined—lean and wiry rather than bulging. And the pelt of hair on his chest….

Having grown up among smooth-chested warriors, the hair on Heller’s chest was both exotic and alluring to him. He wanted to run his fingers through it and see if it was soft or wiry.

And that thought would have to wait, because in his current state, there’d be no hiding his reaction to the image.

Instead he focused on getting his clothes clean.

He hadn’t brought his spare pants to the river, and he wasn’t about to change into them when he got back just to sleep, so Heller would just have to deal with the sight of Cade in his union suit until morning.

He hoped Heller appreciated his consideration.

He wouldn’t have bothered for most people.

When his clothes were as clean as he could get them without a washboard, he carried them back to the wagon and pulled on a clean union suit. “I’m dressed again, so you don’t have to look elsewhere all the time.”

“Most men would not appreciate being stared at.” Erick gestured toward the snake carcass he’d retrieved from the wagon, still not meeting Cade’s eyes. “You will have to show me how to prepare rattlesnake.”

Cade wasn’t most men. He’d grown up in a different culture with a different set of values, but now wasn’t the time to discuss it.

He didn’t know if there would ever be a good time to discuss it, although he’d jump at the chance if he could be sure he was reading the few signs of interest he thought he’d noticed correctly.

Unfortunately some white men’s ways still confused him, and Heller was even worse for being a foreigner.

“Fried,” he said instead. He grabbed the cast iron skillet and a dollop of lard.

“We’ll let the fat get good and hot and then we’ll fry it up.

If we had a jalapeno or two, we could add some extra bite. You ever had jalapenos?”

Heller’s posture relaxed slightly at the change of subject.

Most people might not have noticed it, but Cade knew how to read subtle cues.

Nudity made Heller uncomfortable. Cade would have to remember that he came from a much more formal culture, though he’d have to adapt eventually.

He’d get an eyeful at the Wellspring bunkhouse.

“It is a vegetable?” Heller asked. “It is not one I am familiar with, though the food in Galveston was pleasingly spiced.”

“It’s a Mexican vegetable, but I wouldn’t recommend eating them by themselves until you get used to them.

They’re pretty strong. But they add a good flavor to things.

The cook at Wellspring, Trujillo, is part Mexican, so we eat a lot of grub from there.

And what he can do with beans and rice will make it so you can’t eat anyone else’s.

” Cade licked his lips just thinking about it. Heller’s gaze followed the motion.

Now wasn’t that interesting? Maybe Heller’s discomfort was about more than just nudity.

The mixed signals frustrated Cade, but that could be as much about his ability to understand white men as it was about the signals Heller was—or wasn’t—sending.

He had learned patience along with marksmanship from the Comanche.

He could bide his time and see what other signals Heller sent. And maybe send a few more of his own.