A Man Worthy
by
Cassandra Ormand
Excerpt:
Thad barely slept. He watched Chelsea closely. He didn't like the hardship he was putting her through, and he felt guilty about lying to her. He should have told her the truth. He could have called someone to come get her from the base camp. The delay wouldn't have made much difference. But his damn ego had gotten in the way. He'd wanted to drag her through the desert. Whether to teach her a lesson, or just because he was so attracted to her, he didn't know for sure. Now it was too late, and she was suffering because of it, because of him. It made him angry to even think about it.
He was positive of one thing. When she found out about his secret—and she inevitably would—she would hate him for it. He didn't know which made him feel worse, the suffering he was putting her through, or the hate he knew she would feel when she realized it hadn't really been necessary.
The next morning, Chelsea was surprised when Thad made the decision to move out despite the danger, and true to his word, it wasn't far around the corner.
They hadn't gone more than a few miles when one of the pack camels slipped and went down, sending the other camels into a nervous flurry. They bolted, mewling in protest, slipping and sliding in the thick mud. Frantic because they couldn't keep their feet under them, they righted themselves, tried to run, and only slipped again. It sent every camel in the pack into an anxious lurch.
Thad hollered through the rain for all the camels to kneel, and Chelsea struggled to get Cornelius to obey. Some of the camels knelt on command, but others were too frightened now by the circumstances, and they hobbled, bucked, and slid ever further away.
"Bloody hell!" Thad cursed, water dripping from his hat. He was soaked through to the skin, cold. But he was used to it. It was Chelsea he was most worried about. He'd noticed the way her teeth had chattered last night, and he was determined to get her out of the rain-soaked landscape, but he had more pressing concerns at the moment. Never mind the other frightened camels. Cornelius was not going down. The animal was nervous, wanting to follow the other rogues, and that struck fear in Thad's heart. He knew the damage a camel could do, and he didn't like to think of Chelsea being at the bad end of a stampede.
"Herd the other camels," Thad shouted to Glendle.
Glendle made an attempt to get his own camel to obey his direction, but it slipped and fell, and he was thrown from the saddle. Chelsea cried out in alarm, worried that he'd been badly injured by the fall. The sound spurred Cornelius, and he lurched forward, confused by all the activity.
Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Thad leap from the back of his own animal and race toward her, mud clinging to his legs, dragging him back and slowing his progress. She clucked softly to Cornelius, tugged gently on the nose-line, and tried to soothe him, but she was sure he didn't hear her coaxing voice over the sound of the rain and the bawling of the other camels.
Just before Cornelius lunged forward, preparing to bolt and run, Thad was in front of them. He took the nose-line and touched the camel's front legs, urging him down. Cornelius protested loudly, twitched and sidestepped, reluctant and afraid, but Thad was finally able to get him down.
Anxious to get her off the animal, Thad nearly tore Chelsea out of the saddle and firmly set her on solid ground. "Go to the rocks. There!" he shouted above the din, flinging his hand to the north.
Chelsea looked and saw a stand of huge rocks rising out of the horizon a few hundred feet away, and nodded her understanding.
"We have to get the camels," Thad shouted to the men. "We'll form a circle and close in on them slowly."
Chelsea stopped halfway to the shelter of the rocks and turned back. "I can help."
Thad jerked around and snapped out, "I told you to get to safety!"
Chelsea flinched at the anger in his voice. "But you need more people. I can help."
"The devil you can! This is men's work, and men will do it!"
"Men's work?" she blustered.
"Bloody right! This is no time for me to be hampered by a sheila like you!"
"You keep saying that! What the hell does it mean?" she demanded.
"Dammit, Chelsea, this is not the time to be stubborn!"
"What do you mean a sheila like me?" she pressed.
"Soft! Pampered!" he shouted, angry that she was pushing him.
"You think I'm soft?" God, he infuriated her with his superior attitude.
"I think this is no place for a woman, especially not a woman like you. It's difficult for rugged men, let alone a female," he charged, his eyes flashing.
"Why are you so angry with me?" she accused. "What did I ever do to you?"
"You got on the wrong bloody plane!"
The words tore at her heart. She couldn't believe he was being so cruel. Anger rose in her chest, and she reacted with all the pain of a broken heart. "The hell with you!" she shrieked. "And the hell with this place!"
They were brave words, driven by anger and pain, but she was glad of the rain now that mingled with the tears on her cheeks. She didn't want him to see, to know that he had the power to hurt her. "I want out of this place just as much as you want me gone," she wailed, having difficulty controlling her tears.
He just stood there staring at her, his clothes clinging to his frame, rainwater dripping from his chin, his eyes blazing. As angry as Chelsea was with him, she thought he'd never looked more handsome.
Something odd passed across his face, something unreadable, and then he turned away, slogging through the mud to shout directions to the men.