34. Now Victory
NOW: VICTORY
Iflinched, parsing over our recent exchange as Reed drew his roan up next to Evangeline’s, him seeming to have come up from the end of the wagon line.
“We’re talking about a man who wants to bed Robbie,” Evangeline answered, smiling at him before she turned to me and winked.
“Lot of those on this caravan,” he drawled, his eye flitting over to me and then away. “But the midwife doesn’t want to own up to that.”
I turned to speak to him but was distracted by the absence of the wagon that had been on Evangeline’s side, where Reed now rode. It must have pulled ahead or fallen behind.
“She surely has more on her mind than admirers,” scoffed Evangeline, but the corners of her mouth were tipping upward. “So those admirers should not expect very much from Madam Robbie.” She gave me another wink.
“I have said the same,” he agreed. “I have even advised her of having a care for her wiles, but she throws them around with little regard for these men.”
“So a woman should take responsibility for a man’s attraction?” I asked, clipped and perturbed, leaning slightly to see him around Evangeline.
Reed continued to look at the road ahead. “In no way did I say that.”
“What did you mean?” asked Evangeline.
I was pleased at the annoyance in her voice, though it was laced with affection. She cocked her head towards him, waiting.
He reached behind him to pull that jerkin’s hood up around his face. “I only meant that a woman who does not want men’s attention should not encourage it by grinding her backside against one of their fronts.”
Evangeline’s laugh was higher pitched than I thought it would be. As she regained her breath, she said, “Robbie, what are you doing with your backside now? I must hear about this.”
My mouth was dry, but I said, “I think he is referring to my trying to get away from him when he was restraining me.”
“What?” she snapped and whipped her head to him, curls bobbing. “You restrained her? My gods, Reed, why are you putting your hands on—”
“She was trying to sneak out of camp.”
“I was trying to find supplies for medicines,” I countered.
He turned to look past Evangeline to me. “And you weren’t very subtle about it. I heard your raucous steps from halfway across camp.”
“That’s no cause for putting your hands on her!”
“Evangeline,” he said and looked at her significantly. “Have I ever?”
“No, but you’ve never decided to leave the wardens and all that you’ve ever known and travel across the continent on a whim either.”
They stared at each other.
Then he said, “It was no whim.”
“Then why won’t you tell us why—”
“I did not touch her,” he interrupted. “I grabbed the strap of her bag and held her by that. She then proceeded to push herself into me like a cat in heat.”
I was surely crimson everywhere my skin was exposed.
I stared down at Zara’s white mane, shot through with a dull yellow, the color of chicken fat.
Tired with his continual refrain that I was some kind of insatiable temptress, I said, “Well, it worked, didn’t it? ” I made myself continue to look ahead.
Evangeline chortled and slapped her thigh. “Did it, Reed?”
I wished I could see his face, but I knew that if I turned, it would, as it so always was, be concealed by that hood. So I forced myself not to look.
There was a beat and then he said, with indifference, almost as if admitting to it took nothing away from him, “It’s a fine backside.”
Unable to resist, I turned to him, surprised and a bit triumphant. But my triumph was short-lived. His wry smile was in place, and he remained looking at the road. Then he sighed and said, “It always feels nice to win, doesn’t it? At least every now and then.”
I exhaled noisily. “Are you saying you admit that my backside’s effect on you is a victory for me? Because it is.”
“Oh no,” he said, cocksure but still relaxed. “I am saying you have finally admitted to what I have been saying for weeks now. It is my victory today, madam. Not yours.”
Godsdamn him. He had trapped me into admitting I was a seductress.
“Explain,” Evangeline demanded.
Reed finally turned to look at me and then said, “I’ll let the midwife tell you. I worry I will gloat if I do.” Then he spurred his roan and shot off down the road, adroit in his horsemanship, navigating the horse around wagons and walkers.