Before the Dawn (14 page)

The implications of that washed over Leah like a wave. She had difficulty keeping her breathing even. Her eyes strayed to his mouth. Would the evening end with her in his bed? The thought gave her the shakes in more ways than one. “Yes, I'll wait up for you.”

Her affirmative answer was rewarded with one of his rare
smiles. He pushed back his now empty plate and wiped his mouth on his linen napkin. “I need to go, then, so I can get back.”

Leah had trouble reconciling herself to the idea of being desired by such a man. Because of her age and poverty-stricken circumstances, she'd buried her hopes of ever knowing a lover's caress long ago.

Leah began to tremble again as he came around to where she sat. He reached out a hand. She grasped it and rose to her feet.

Ryder took a moment to stare down into her ebony eyes. “Let me have a kiss. It's all we have time for right now.”

Leah's knees melted, and as he lifted her chin and gave her a fiery, lingering kiss, the rest of her melted as well.

He touched her dark cheek as a fleeting caress good-bye, then quietly exited, leaving her hazy, dazed, and yearning for more.

 

As it turned out, Sam didn't have time for a formal tour. “I have to go over to Miss Eloise's today—I chop her wood on Thursdays. You're welcome to come along if you like.”

So Leah did.

It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, the temperature so warm Leah didn't need her cloak. While Sam guided the buckboard over the uneven open land, he pointed out landmarks, gave her the names of blooming wildflowers and circling hawks. They saw foxes and rabbits, deer and butterflies. It was a visual treat, but Leah still thought the place needed an ocean.

“Who is this Miss Eloise, Sam?”

“Lady about my age. Old friend of Ryder's. Says she knew his father, too. Been here a while.”

Leah recalled going past Miss Eloise's house with Ryder. “I have a feeling I'll like her.”

“Don't see why not. Everybody else does.”

“Even Helene Sejours?”

He cracked. “Well, not everybody,” he added as they pulled up in front of a small cottage surrounded by fields of blooming flowers. Sam set the brake. “Miss Eloise used to be a laundress back in the gold rush days. Now she just paints and tends her flowers.”

As Leah stepped down from the backboard her attention was grabbed by a woman in faded trousers, shirt, and an old hat digging in the flowers on the side of the house. She looked up, and a smile lit her face. “Morning, Sam.”

He waved as he hitched the team to the post outside her whitewashed fence. “Morning, Eloise. Meet Leah Montague.”

By now the brown-skinned woman was coming down the narrow path that served as a walk through all the flowers. “Glad to meet you. Leah? You're Louis's widow, aren't you?”

Leah nodded a bit uncertainly. Although Sam had vouched for the woman's sweet nature, Leah didn't know what memories she had of Monty. Had Miss Eloise been one of the people he'd been unkind to also?

The woman regarded her for a moment. “Heard you were in town. I'm sorry for your loss,” she told Leah, seemingly genuinely. “A lot of folks won't miss him, but I will.”

Leah decided she liked Miss Eloise. “Thank you. Your flowers are beautiful.”

“They're what keeps me going, them and my paints.”

She pulled off her soil-stained gloves. “Would you like a tour?”

Leah nodded. “Yes, I would.”

“Then come on with me. I'll show off my gardens while Sam does the wood.”

Sam gave them a wave of his hand and went around to the back of the house.

Miss Eloise took Leah on a wandering walk through the
extensive beds. There were flowers, newly planted spring vegetables, and in the field of flowers behind the house stood a beautifully sculpted statue of a laughing little girl holding out a pan. It was the most unique birdbath Leah'd ever seen and so lifelike it took her breath away. “Where on earth did you get this?” she asked Miss Eloise.

Every detail appeared to have been lovingly rendered: from the sparkle in her eyes, and the wind-ruffled hem of her dress, to the tiny buttons on her little high-topped shoes. Even the short curls of her hair looked soft and touchable.

“Made her myself,” Eloise replied proudly. “Her name's April.”

Leah couldn't hide her surprise. “You made this?”

“Yep.”

“Did you use one of the local children as the model?”

Eloise shook her graying head. “No. She came out of my mind.”

The love and care that had gone into the rendering was quite apparent. “Well, she's adorable.”

Eloise nodded. “I call her the daughter I never had.” Eloise touched April's head affectionately. “And she'll never grow up and leave me.”

Leah smiled.

Eloise said, “I was heating water for tea. It's probably hot by now. Why don't you come on in?”

Inside over tea, Leah looked around the small neat cabin. It was furnished simply and devoid of the stifling, overstuffed furniture choking Helene's house. Instead of fringes and velvet there were framed paintings everywhere. Many were landscapes, others were portraits. All showed as much mastery as the statue of little Alice. “Sam told me you did paintings, but I'd no idea you were so prolific or so talented.”

“Are you trying to give me a swelled head, young woman?”

Leah smiled over her cup. “No, ma'am. Just speaking the truth.”

“Well, I'd be honored if you'd let me paint you.”

“I'd like that.”

They spent a companionable hour talking about everything and nothing. Leah wasn't surprised to learn Miss Eloise had come to Colorado as a slave from Texas in 1845. Nearly everyone Leah knew had been a captive at some point in their life.

“I was seventeen,” Eloise explained. “It was me, the master, and a milk cow. Walked most of the way. Master died three days after we got here.”

“So what did you do?”

“Called myself a free woman and opened up a laundry. Did real well, too.”

She then turned her frank brown eyes on Leah. “How're you and Ryder getting along?”

Since Leah didn't know how much Miss Eloise knew, she didn't know how to answer.

Miss Eloise sought to assure her, “I'm not trying to be nosy, well, I guess I am, but everybody's buzzing about what happened with the estate and all. You made a good choice, I think. No woman in her right mind would choose prison, given another way out, and Ryder's a good man. I've known him most of his life.”

“We're getting along as well as might be expected, I suppose.”

“Well, he can be an enigma sometimes. Sorta like his father. Every female within fifty miles of here was in love with Louis. Myself included.” Eloise looked to Leah. “I'm not talking out of turn here, am I?”

Leah shook her head. “No.” Leah didn't feel offended in the least. In fact, she was a bit flattered that Eloise felt comfortable enough to reveal herself this way.

Eloise looked off into the distance as if recalling memo
ries, and her voice softened. “He wouldn't have me of course. I was just a common washerwoman. He wanted someone better, like that fancy Creole Bernice he shipped in for his wife.”

“Was she really as unhappy here as I've heard?” Leah asked.

“More. She spent the first few weeks terrified that she'd be scalped by Utes or Cheyenne, even though most of the tribes had been hunted down and put on reservations. Those poor folks,” she added sadly. “Have Ryder tell you about those days, sometime.”

Leah nodded. “Did Monty know how you felt about him?”

“Oh, sure, but it didn't make him no never mind though. What would a washer woman know about sitting at the head of his table?”

Leah thought she sounded a bit bitter, but Eloise was soon smiling again. “Can I get you more cookies?” the woman asked.

“No, ma'am. If I eat any more I won't fit on the buckboard.” The molasses cookies had been outstanding and reminded Leah of the ones Reba often had waiting for her when she came home from school.

Eloise poured herself another cup of water from the kettle. “Heard you were staying at Helene's. How she treat you?”

Leah wondered if she could tell her the truth, and then decided she could. “Frankly? Not well.”

Eloise shook her head in disgust. “Never did like her. Never will. She and that sister of hers came here from New Orleans and you'd've thought they were visiting royalty. Spent the whole time looking down their noses at the rest of us like we were sluice water.”

Leah was glad to hear she wasn't alone in her feelings about Helene.

Eloise added, “I have to say, Helene did do well by Seth while he was growing up, but she's a rattler.”

Sam stuck his head in the door. It was time to head back.

Miss Eloise looked disappointed. “So soon?”

Sam nodded. “Yep, got to get back.”

She then asked Leah, “Will you come and visit again now that you know where I am?”

“First chance I get. You promised to paint me, remember?”

“And I shall. Tell Ryder I said hello.”

Leah promised she would, then she and Sam drove off with a wave.

Once they were on the road again, Leah told Sam, “You were right. She's a very nice lady.”

“That she is. Does most of the doctoring for our folks around here because the hospital in Denver won't take us.”

“Is she a trained physician?”

“Naw, but she knows more about healing and herbs than anybody else around. Ryder said she learned a lot about plants from his grandma. I guess Miss Eloise was one of the few people who treated Ryder with any respect.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everybody else around here called him
Squaw Boy
while he was growing up.”

“Squaw Boy?” Leah was appalled.

“Yep, but now Squaw Boy is one of the richest men in Colorado. Pretty ironic if you think about it.”

Leah agreed. Having also grown up being slurred because of the circumstances surrounding her birth, she'd spent a lot of time fighting. How had Ryder handled it? Making yourself wealthy enough to thumb your nose at your former tormentors sounded to her like very apt revenge indeed. Did folk respect him now or still call him Squaw Boy? she wondered.

Back at Sunrise, Leah helped Sam pare vegetables for
dinner, then spent the afternoon trying to occupy her mind with something other than thoughts of Ryder and sharing his bed. She first tried reading one of Denver's local papers but couldn't concentrate because thoughts of kisses and being held against his broad chest kept interfering with the words. She then went to his study, hoping a book might hold her interest better, but since the choices were limited to geology, engineering, and mining, she found no respite there.

In the end she went outside and sat on a wooden bench that had been positioned to face the distant mountains. Out in the quiet she let her mind have its head. She replayed everything that had happened to her in the few days since she'd arrived and realized how life-changing the experience had been. In the process she'd gone from being Monty's widow, to his son's paramour. Of course that questionable title wouldn't be official until the deal was consummated but Leah didn't think that would be too far off. She'd chosen scandal over jail and still felt as if she'd made the only logical decision. Leah didn't care about all the gossip that was sure to be nipping at her heels; she'd been gossiped about since the day she was born. She did care about going through with her end of the bargain, however, and in reality she was scared to death. Her knowledge of what a man and a woman did behind closed doors was limited to the few peeks she'd gotten at the bawdy books surreptiously passed around back at Miss Caldwell's school, but she doubted spinsters were supposed to act like those fictional, wanton heroines. Although Monty and her mother had had an ongoing relationship most of Leah's life, they'd been very discreet in their dealings in her presence. Leah'd never seen Monty give Reba more than a friendly swat on the behind or a quick kiss on the cheek in all the years she'd known him.

She assumed Ryder knew what to do, however, and therein lay another dilemma. How would he react when he
found out she was a virgin? She didn't see him being pleased; he thought her a widow and would undoubtedly accuse of her of intentionally deceiving him. He'd be right of course, but would he hear her out and applaud his father's ingenuity? Leah hoped everything would go well, but because there were so many variables, she knew disaster could strike in an instant.

 

Leah couldn't deny her nervousness as she dressed in a beautiful navy silk gown and left her room to see if Sam needed help. She knew she wasn't dressed to do anything more than set the table. As efficient as Sam seemed to be, he probably didn't need any assistance at all, but she needed something or someone to occupy her mind. All she could think about was her evening with Ryder and that after tonight she'd be a woman in every sense of the word.

Upon entering the kitchen, she asked, “Sam what time is—”

Ryder turned and froze with the glass of lemonade to his lips. For a moment he stood speechless as he fed his eyes on her loveliness. How can a woman be more beautiful with each passing moment? he mused inwardly as he took in the sight of her in the navy blue silk dress. Once again he felt as if he were in a children's tale and was being graced by a princess. The midnight blue gown seemed to sparkle against her dark skin. The sleeves were little more than bands across her upper arms, offering the eyes an unhindered view of the lovely slopes of her shoulders and her neck below her upswept hair. The straight-line bodice rode fashionably low and flowed seamlessly into the tempting bands of her sleeves. Around her neck she wore a simple sapphire locket that rested on the smooth plane above her breasts. It was a spot he wished to place his kisses against.