it seemed most probable that it had been a chance encounter with a small band of marauders. The countryside was full of them, men whom war had dispossessed or made desperate. As he and his companions continued on their journey, Harry could only hope that they wouldn't meet any more. They had been lucky last time. If the robber group had been larger it would have been a different story. Had it been only himself and Jack he would have been less concerned: having women along altered his view substantially, even if the women concerned were able to shoot remarkably well. Elena's account of their adventure with El Lobo only served to underline this. While Harry applauded her courage and resilience, he was more aware than ever of her vulnerability.
Since the shared watch their relationship had, superficially at least, settled back into its former pattern of mutual civility. Yet, underneath that, he was aware of a fundamental shift. Even though he had apologised, he knew that he had ducked the issue. The habit of silence had become ingrained. The very mention of Belen was a trigger to close up like a clam. Let's pretend it didn't happen. How those words had haunted him in the hours since. By glossing over the matter in that way Elena had only been trying to keep the peace, but her openness with him suggested that she would have welcomed reciprocal honesty. Now that his temper had cooled he realised that her question was never intended to be impertinent, only to open a dialogue between them. A necessary dialogue, he now admitted. No relationship could survive if it were based on pretence.
He also knew that, one day, they would have a deeper relationship. She was his wife and nothing would change that. It behoved them to make the best of the situation. After all, many marriages were based on mutual respect. There was no reason why they shouldn't have a future together, even if it wasn't the one either of them would have chosen. Eventually they were going to have to talk and he would have to tell her the truth. He had no idea what might happen after that, but more than anything else he dreaded her contempt. After what he'd done, or rather failed to do, how could any woman think him worthy of her affection?
That evening they camped by the side of a small lake. Since water was an important consideration for both horses and humans, Harry had planned his route accordingly, making use of the maps Don Manuel had provided. Small streams or springs served their turn and supplied what was essential, but the thought of being able to bathe for the first time in days was very appealing. It seemed he wasn't the only one to think so.
'A swim would be very agreeable,' said Elena, when the subject was first broached. 'But if you and Jack wish to go first Concha and I will prepare things here.'
Harry grinned. 'A generous offer. However, I believe the rule is ladies first.'
'Very well. We accept.'
He reached into his saddlebag. 'Here. You might want this.'
'What is it?'
'A bar of soap.' He placed in in her hand, closing her fingers around it. 'Don't lose it. It's the only one I have.'
The effect of that casual touch was disturbing. She summoned a smile. 'I'll guard it with my life.'
'See you do. The penalty for failure is severe.'
Although she caught the gleam in the grey eyes her pulse quickened. She had no idea what he might be capable of - in fun or earnest.
'I'm not going to ask.'
'What a pity.'
Elena's cheeks grew a shade warmer. This gentle teasing was more difficult to deal with and, more disturbingly still, part of her wanted to push this a little further. Not so long ago she would have avoided any kind of flirtatious behaviour with a man; now the temptation was strong. With a sense of shock she realised that fear had been replaced by something very like suppressed excitement. It was definitely time to leave.
'We won't take too long.'
'No hurry. The lake will still be there.'
Leaving the two men to perform the remaining chores, she and Concha took themselves off. They walked a little way from the camp and found a curve in the shoreline which provided a secluded little cove and complete privacy. They lost no time in stripping off and wading in. The water was cold but wonderfully refreshing.
Concha submerged herself completely and came up grinning. 'Madre