Dorothy Garlock - [Colorado Wind 03] (16 page)

“Now you quit hiding from me, Mary Ben.” A giggle answered him. “Come on out or I won’t give you the present I bought you.”

“Present?” Her surprised voice came from behind the tree.

“Yes, but I’m not going to give it to you if you don’t come on out and be nice.”

“I don’t need no present, Henry, ’n I ain’t agoin’ to be nice, so there!” She flattened herself against the tree trunk and held her hand over her mouth to stifle the excited giggles that bubbled up in her throat.

Henry sneaked up to the tree, reached around and grabbed her shirt. “I got you, Mary Ben! You’re no good at hiding. I knew you were there all the time.”

When she started to run Henry jerked on her skirt and she sat down hard on the ground. Her eyes shone up at him and she burst out laughing. Henry threw himself down beside her, his eyes fastened to her face. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything prettier than Mary Ben laughing. The yellow dog decided the game was over. He flopped down and rested his jowls on his paws.

“Ain’t it fun, Henry? I ain’t never had fun like this. I ain’t never played with nobody. It’s just like we were little younguns again.”

“I played with Vanessa when I was little, but nobody else wanted to play with me.” He smiled. There was no self-pity in his voice. It was a statement of fact.

He took off his hat, set it on the ground beside him, and wiped his brow with a red neckerchief. They sat quietly, looking at each other as if the two of them were alone in the world. Mary Ben loved to look at him. He was so handsome and clean, so . . . gentle. He didn’t leer at her as other men did. He said things as they came to him, honest and straight out. From the first she had known he was different from anyone she’d ever met before. He was like a small boy in a grown man’s body. She wished for his sake that he could be more like Mr. DeBolt, but not for hers. She loved him just as he was, and if she had her way she’d stay with him forever.

“I got something for you. I saw it at the store and Kain said I had enough money to buy it.” He took a package from the inside pocket of his vest and placed it in her lap. He was looking at her with a nervous smile and such tender concern in his eyes that she wanted to cry. “Open it,” he urged. His face lost the smile and his eyes became anxious.

Mary Ben looked down at the package, then up at Henry. Her eyes filled with tears. “I ain’t never had a present afore. I ain’t never had nothin’ wrapped up.” She picked it up with both hands and held it to her breast. “I jist want to hold it a minute afore I open it.”

“Don’t cry about it!” Henry peered down into her face and a small distressed sound came from his throat. “Ah . . . Mary Ben, please don’t cry. Smile again. Please,” he begged. “I got the present to make you happy.”

“People cry when they’re happy, silly.” She sniffed and smiled into his eyes.

“They do no such thing.”

“Yes, they do to, Henry Hill.” She carefully unwrapped the paper and the length of pink ribbon and the bottle of toilet water spilled out into her lap. “Oh, my goodness!” she said in an awed voice, lifting the toilet water in one hand and the ribbon in the other. Her eyes became round with surprise and pleasure. “Oh, my goodness gracious me!”

“Do you like it?” Henry asked anxiously.

“Like it? Oh, Henry! I ain’t never had nothin’ so fine.”

“The ribbon will be pretty in your hair, or you can put it on a dress. Do you want to smell this? I’ll open it.” He took the bottle from her hand, pulled the cork plug, and waved the open bottle beneath her nose. “Doesn’t it smell good? Ma and Vanessa put some on their fingers and rub it on their necks and behind their ears. Want me to show you?” Without waiting for an answer, he put a generous amount of the scented water on his fingers and gently spread it on her neck and up under her hair. “You’re pretty, Mary Ben. You’re so . . . pretty. I never saw a girl as pretty as you,” he said softly.

“I ain’t neither pretty,” she said shaking her head and hoping he’d deny it. “Vanessa’s pretty. She’s the prettiest thing I ever did see.”

“Van’s pretty,” he admitted, “but you’re prettier. You’re hair is soft and shiny.” He lifted his hand and his fingers lightly touched the tendrils at her temples. “I like the way it curls and hangs down your back. You’re eyes are pretty, too. They’re like the brown-eyed daisies we have back home. I think about you all the time, Mary Ben,” he whispered, looking straight into her eyes.

“I think about ya too, Henry.”

“Can I ask you something?” He replaced the cork in the bottle and laid it in her lap. His hand clasped her’s tightly. “Kain said I ought to ask before I did anything. He said if you said no, I was to back off. He said to never force a woman. I’d not ever hurt you, Mary Ben.”

“I know ya wouldn’t, Henry. Yo’re the kindest man I ever did know. Ya can ask me anythin’.”

“Can I kiss you? I’ve been wanting to for a long time, but I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

“I ain’t never kissed nobody. I don’t know how.’‘

“I’ll show you. I’ve kissed Ma and Van on the cheek. But I want to kiss you on the mouth, Mary Ben, like you was my girl.”

“I don’t care if ya . . . do.”

Mary Ben felt her breath catch in her throat when his fingers lifted her chin, felt her insides warm with pleasure as his lips softly met hers. She closed her eyes and allowed herself the pure joy of feeling his nose against her cheek and the rough drag of the whiskers on his chin. His mouth was warm and moist, and his breath fresh. She didn’t even think of the panic she’d felt when men had tried to grab her and kiss her. This was different, so different. Such a lovely feeling unfolded in her midsection and traveled slowly through her body. She wanted it to go on and on. His mouth moved against hers ever so slightly with delicious provocation. Gently, as if she were something so fragile she would break, his lips moved over her cheeks, her brows, and touched her closed eyelids. They returned to her lips which opened under the pressure, and she leaned against him, her arms finding their way around his neck as his arms held her gently against him. A surge of pleasure rushed through her, and she heard a soft moan, not knowing if it came from her or Henry.

He lifted his head immediately. “Was I too rough? Oh, my pretty, sweet Mary Ben, I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“Ya didn’t!” She reached for his face with her hands and stroked his cheeks with her palms. “Ya didn’t hurt me a’tall, Henry. I jist didn’t want ya to stop.”

“Does that mean you like for me to kiss you?”

“I like it a lot.”

His arms tightened and he hugged her to him fiercely. “I’m glad! I liked it, too. I like everything about you, Mary Ben. I like to hold you and feel your arms around my neck. It makes my insides all fluttery,” he said with a nervous little laugh. “I want to court you. If you want me to, I’ll ask John if I can.”

“Court me? Oh, Henry! What would yore ma say? She won’t want ya courtin’ such as me.”

“Why not?”

“Cause . . . cause—well, I ain’t nobody. I can’t write my name or do sums or nothin’ like that.”

“I can do sums. And I can write your name for you,” he said anxiously.

“But courtin’ leads to . . . leads to—”

“It leads to a weddin’. I know that. If we were wed we’d never have to leave each other.” He held her away from him and looked down into her eyes. There was an intense, almost desperate look on his face. “Tell me truthful and honest to goodness, Mary Ben. Do you think I’m a . . . dummy? Is that why you don’t want me to court you?”

“Henry Hill! Don’t ya ever say that again! Hear? Ya ain’t no dummy! Ya ain’t no dummy a’tall! Yo’re the nicest, sweetest thin’ in the whole wide world. I’m jist worried is all. I ain’t good enuff fer ya.”

“It’s me that’s not good enough for
you.
I’ll take care of you the best I can. I’m learning things from Kain. He’s showing me how to fight and how to use the gun. I could do anything if you were with me and telling me what to do,” he whispered, distress lines creasing his brow. He stared deeply at her stricken face and saw the sparkle of tears come to her eyes.

“I’m scared a what yore ma ’n Vanessa’d say. Look at me, Henry. Look at my dress and my shoes. I ain’t never lived in a house in my whole life—it’s always been a dugout or a wagon. I killed a man down in the Territory. I might a killed two of ’em. They was after me ’n I shot ’em. There was jist me ’n Mister fer a long time, till Mr. Wisner come.” She bowed her head and rested her forehead on his shoulder. When her voice came again it was muffled against his shirt. “I can’t hardly talk to decent folk. Yore ma and Vanessa are fine ladies. They’d not want me wed to ya.”

“I’ll ask them. I’ll tell them I want to court you and wed you and be with you forever. Ma wants me to be happy. She tells me, ‘be happy, Henry.’ I’m happy when I’m with you. It’s like I can do anything. It’s like I’m as smart as anybody.” His voice vibrated with tender emotion and his lips quivered against her brow. “I don’t want you to ever go away.”

She pressed her face against his shirt, not wanting him to see the tears that filled her eyes on hearing his tender words. She was aware of the heavy beat of his heart and his warm breath on her ear. He rocked her in his arms as if she were a small child. Her lips found the pulse that beat at the base of his throat. This gentle man had given her more tenderness during the few short weeks she had known him than she had received in all her seventeen years. A feeling of faintness seemed to sweep over her. She wanted to cling to him, to give him love, to shield and protect him always.

His arms held her firmly but gently. She nestled in the warm protection of his embrace and heard him croon softly, “Don’t you worry, Mary Ben. I’ll take care of you.”

They sat for a long while in the quiet woods while the squirrels raced through the branches overhead and scolded the yellow dog as he lay watching the man who held his mistress in his arms, stroking her hair.

*  *  *

Vanessa was gathering the dry clothes from the bushes when she saw Kain riding toward camp on the big red horse. Her relief was so intense that her knees trembled. As mealtime approached and he hadn’t returned, she had become so worried that Primer Tass had found him she had been sick to her stomach.

Kain rode on past her with only a brief nod of his head and dismounted behind the Wisner wagon.

Her mind was temporarily distracted from Primer Tass and all his visit implied when Henry and Mary Ben came out of the woods, hand in hand. Her hair was tied back with a new pink ribbon and Henry had a shy smile on his face. Vanessa watched Ellie anxiously, saw her look at the couple and then down at the biscuit dough she was pinching off and putting in the pan to bake.

“Look, Ma.” Henry pulled the reluctant girl to where Ellie stood beside the workbench. “Don’t Mary Ben look pretty with the new ribbon in her hair?” Mary Ben hung her head and refused to look up.

“Mary Ben is pretty with or without the ribbon.” Ellie glanced at the shy girl.

“I think so, too,” Henry said with all the honesty of his simple nature as he smiled down at Mary Ben. The girl’s head was bent so low her chin was resting on her chest. “I bought a present for you, too, Ma. I bought you some soap. Doesn’t it smell good?” He held the bar beneath her nose.

“Why, thank you, Henry. That was very sweet of you. Yes, it does smell good.” Ellie smiled up at her tall son. “Lilac, isn’t it? I can’t take it right now, I’ve got my hands in the biscuit dough and it’s almost supper time. Put it there by the wash dish and I’ll put it away later.”

“Let go my hand, Henry,” Mary Ben whispered and tugged on the hand Henry held tightly in his. “Let go! I got to help.” She moved quickly away from him when he released her hand.

“If you’re going to help Ma, I’ll help Kain. Kain,” Henry called and went loping toward him. “I’ll picket the horses. Mary Ben liked the ribbon.”

Mary Ben stood nervously beside Ellie. When the older woman didn’t look up at her, her anxiety grew.

“Mrs. Hill? Are ya mad cause Henry give me the ribbon?” Her voice was a bare whisper.

Startled, Ellie turned and looked into the young, worried face of the girl. “Mercy, no, child! I think it was very thoughtful of Henry to buy the presents.”

Tears spurted into Mary Ben’s big brown eyes. Her lips trembled and she clamped the lower one between her teeth. “I . . . can keep it—and the toilet water?” Her voice was shaking so that the question came out on a sob.

“Of course you can.” Ellie could see that Mary Ben was doing her best to keep from crying, and did the only thing she knew to help her. “But landsakes, child, we got to get the supper on. We’re running late and it’ll be dark before you know it. Bring me that pan, Mary Ben, and take this one and put it in the oven. See to the coals under it first, dear,” she called as Mary Ben, relieved to be doing something, hurried to obey.

Darkness fell, quiet settled over the camp and everyone gathered for the evening meal. Vanessa filled her plate and went to sit on a stool with her back to the wagon wheel. Kain sat on the other side of the cookfire and talked to John. She watched him. He ate very little for a man his size, she thought. He nibbled on a biscuit and ate a helping of rice and gravy. John had bought a pail of milk from a woman at the campground, and Kain drank several cups.

His face was thinner. The thought went through her mind as she studied it. He had lost weight since she had first seen him in Dodge City. A stab of fear caused her heart to pound heavily. But he didn’t look sick, she told herself. Traveling every day was hard on a person, even a man as big and strong as Kain. She had lost weight and so had Ellie. She regreted having to put more worry on him, but he had to be warned to be on the lookout for Primer Tass.

The trip, Vanessa thought, had taken a toll on Ellie, too. She had always been proud of the soft, white skin on her face and had protected it with a sunbonnet. Now, in spite of the sunbonnet and applications of olive oil, the wind and dust had chapped her cheeks and dried and cracked her lips. When Kain joined their party, Ellie’s nerves had been stretched to the breaking point. She was still fearful—Vanessa had even heard her crying in the night. She didn’t know if her aunt’s tears were caused by her fear of the outlaws who preyed on travelers or fear of what she would face when they reached Junction City. Vanessa was determined, if at all possible, to shield her aunt from the extra worry of Primer Tass’ threats.