Indigo by Beverly Jenkins

a Detroit tailor. De Baptiste was so hated in areas of the South, a reward of one thousand dollars awaited any slave catcher who could capture him. Hester said, "Galen, I can't believe any of those men betrayed you. You said yourself you were in a lot of pain after the beating. Are you certain of what you heard?"
    "I'd stake my life on it."
    Hester could see he had faith in what he believed. She didn't know what to say.
    Instead she asked, "Why did you let them know you were coming here? Do you do that often?"
    "Usually my plans are known only to myself and my passengers. However, I had some information I was bringing north—information the Order had requested. They knew the approximate dates of my arrival so it would have been fairly simple for someone to pass that knowledge on to the slave catchers."
    Hester found this all very stunning. "Let's say for the sake of argument there is a traitor, how do you propose to find him or her?"
    "That's a question I can't answer yet."
    "Can't or won't?"
    He smiled. "Both."
    Hester didn't press. She stood and asked, "Do you want to meet the member of the local Vigilance Committee?"
    "No. The fewer people who know I'm in the area, the better."
    "I agree, but the conductors deserve to be alerted if there's a traitor in our midst. They'll certainly want to know where I received such incriminating information."
    "I understand, and that's a risk I'll have to take."
    Hester then asked the question that had been weighing on her mind. "Galen, why are you divulging all of this to me? How do you know I'm not the traitor?"
    "Are you?"
    "Of course not."
    "Then the point is moot, petite."
    He spoke the diminutive so softly she felt as if he'd stroked her with more than just his voice. She managed to ask, "Are you ready for more of Bea's salve?"
    He nodded.
    She sat on the edge of the cot while he undid his shirt. When his chest was exposed she tamped down the tingling he seemed to inspire and began a slow repeat of this morning's application of the salve. The heat rising from his chest seemed to be even more distracting than it had been earlier. While she worked, she couldn't help but peek up at his flat brown nipples, then ordered herself to pay attention to what she was supposed to be doing.
    With his eyes closed, Galen could feel her warm fingers slowly working him into a lazy state of arousal. It had been quite some time since he'd felt the soft caress of a woman's touch; he usually remained celibate while on the Road, however, her indigo hands reminded him just how long it had been. Rather than embarrass her with the soon-to-be-evident proof of his growing desire, Galen placed his hand over hers to stay it.
    Hester looked up in surprise. Her hand caught beneath his own felt as if it were on fire. "Have I hurt you?"
    He chuckled and slowly opened his eyes, "No, Indigo, you haven't hurt me. I just think I've had enough salve for today."
    Galen thought about how it might feel to have her touch him without inhibition. He realized such images would not help quiet his awakened arousal, so he lifted her hand and peered at it.
    Hester tried to remain calm and unmoved, but she could not still the shaking of her hand.
    "You have beautiful hands, Hester Wyatt. They're like exotic indigo orchids."
    Hester could only swallow.
    "You're shaking," he stated.
    For the first time Galen could see that the smallest finger on her hand had no nail. It appeared to have been severed. He gently moved his own finger over the shortened digit and asked softly, "What happened here?"
    "My mother did this a few days after I was born. She and my father hoped it would make me distinctive enough to be found by my aunt."
    "You'll have to tell me the story one day."
    Galen experienced the overwhelming urge to bring the finger to his lips, but he didn't want to frighten her so he ignored the urge, then slowly released her hand.
    "What is that scent you're wearing?" he asked softly.
    It took her a moment to pull herself away from