Dorothy Garlock - [Colorado Wind 03] (26 page)

The door at the foot of the stairs was open and she could hear voices in the kitchen—Ellie and Kain were there. Vanessa went quickly down the stairs, but her steps slowed and stopped as she reached the kitchen door. Kain sat at the table, his dark head bent over the sheet of paper he was writing on. She had only an instant to observe him without him being aware she was there. He had shaved, and his hair had been combed back with a damp comb. His cloth shirt was a faded blue and he wore the sleeveless, dark leather vest.

“Morning, dear.” Ellie opened the door to the warming oven and took out a pan of biscuits. “Everyone has eaten but you.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” She spoke to Ellie, but her eyes were on Kain, and his on her. He was smiling, his gaze full of adoration.

“Kain said you were tired. Sit down. The biscuits are hot, and I’ll heat the gravy.”

Vanessa scarcely heard what Ellie said. Kain had held out his hand and she went to him.

“Morning,” he said just to her.

“Morning.”

He pulled her down on the bench beside him and touched his lips to hers in a gentle, lingering kiss. He lifted his head and smiled into her eyes. Vanessa shot a look at her aunt. He drew her closer and whispered in her ear, “You might as well get used to it, sweetheart. I’m going to kiss you every chance I get.”

The back door opened and Mary Ben came in carrying a small glass Daisy churn. Henry followed, his arms loaded with things from the caravan.

“Be careful with that, Henry,” she cautioned. “That washbowl was yore grandma’s. If you break it yore ma’ll have yore hide.”

“I’m being careful. Where shall I put it, Ma?”

“Put it in the room Mary Ben’s using. I don’t think there’s a washbowl in that room.”

“Oh, no, Mrs. Hill. I . . . I might break it.”

“Fiddlesticks! You’re no more likely to break it than I am. Is the wagon about emptied, Henry?”

“Another load or two and it will be.” He looked at his cousin. “What’re you sitting close to Kain for, Van? Is he finally courtin’ you? Is he your beau? I told him a long time ago that—”

“Henry Hill! Get along with you.” Ellie took the churn from Mary Ben. “Get him out of here, Mary Ben, before he puts his foot in his mouth.”

“Yes’m. Come on, Henry.”

Henry backed toward the door. “You know what Kain said, Van? He said what this place needed was two good hounds. Two of them! He said after they got used to the place they’d set up a ruckus if anyone came around. He’s going to get some. Ain’t that right, Kain?”

“That’s right, but first we’ve got to get your mother a couple of milch cows. Is John ready to go to town? I’ve got a couple of letters for him to take to Mr. McCloud at the mercantile.”

“He’s going to move the wagons back by the barn first.”

“He ain’t never goin’ to do it if ya don’t come on, Henry.” Mary Ben tugged on his arm.

“Oh, all right. Ain’t she pretty in that dress and her hair all shiny, Van? She’s just pretty and
bossy,
ain’t she?” They went out the door, their voices trailing behind them. “Did I say something wrong, Mary Ben?”

“I reckon not, but why did ya have to go ’n say that other fer?”

“What other? About you being pretty? Cause you
are
pretty, honey girl. You’re just as pretty as a speckled pup.”

“Ah, Henry.”

“My, my.” Ellie shook her head as she set a jar of grape jam in front of Vanessa. “Those two are the limit! Henry’s underfoot all the time, but that girl can get more work out of him than you and I ever could.”

“A pretty woman can just twist a man around her little finger.” Kain looked at Vanessa and she could see the amusement in his amber eyes.

“The same can be said for a certain man I known.” Vanessa tilted her chin pertly. “He can be oh so charming—when he wants to be.”

“Love brings out the worst and the best in us.” Kain smiled into Vanessa’s eyes as he spoke.

“I know,” Ellie said, “and I’m so grateful.”

Several days passed in rapid succession. Breakfast was at first light, and the women spent the rest of the day cooking and cleaning. They scoured the cupboards, aired bedding, washed windows, scrubbed floors and beat carpets. Gradually the musty odor left the house, and it took on the pleasant smell of wet wood and strong lye soap.

The Hookers decided to postpone their trip back to Texas until spring. They cleaned up the quarters in the bunkhouse after Ellie’s inspection had pronounced the place unfit to live in.

With a shy grin on his face, Jeb told Kain, “That woman do be bossy, but she sets a mighty fine table.”

Henry worked alongside the Hookers. They snaked deadfalls down from the hillside behind the house and with a two-man saw cut them in stove-size lengths. Clay explained to Henry that the wood would split more easily when the weather turned cold. John took over the chores in the barn. He liked working with the cows, and to Ellie’s surprise he did all the milking, which she had fully expected to do herself. Clay liked to hunt and brought in a pronghorn antelope buck which he hung from a branch of a tree and dressed.

Ellie insisted that Kain drink cup after cup of the fresh milk in order to get his strength back. His shoulder and side no longer pained him unless he stretched or moved suddenly. He lived in constant dread of having one of his attacks and planned on what he would do when it happened: he’d go into his room, bolt the door, and depend on Ellie to keep Vanessa away.

If Vanessa wondered at the family settling so permanently into Kain’s house she said nothing about it. She spent every available moment with him. He watched her while she worked; she scolded when she thought he was overexerting himself; their hands caught as they passed; their eyes met and held in silent conversation. Always in the back of Vanessa’s mind was the dread that when Kain was out of her sight she’d not see him again.

At mealtime the “family” gathered around the big table in the kitchen. The Texans had lost much of their shyness and now lingered as John did to visit before returning to work. Mary Ben and Henry sat side by side and Ellie sat at the end of the table. Kain enjoyed these times. Not only because Vanessa sat close beside him, but because it gave him the feeling of belonging, something he’d not had for a long while.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Kain said after they had finished a meal of venison, buttermilk biscuits, and custard pie. Vanessa looked up at him with a quick intake of breath. He saw her fear, his hand sought hers beneath the table, and he squeezed it reassuringly. “John already knows about this. He discovered it when he went into town. The truth is, we’ll be having visitors any time now.”

“Company?” Ellie passed the pitcher of milk to Vanessa so she could refill Kain’s glass. “I love company.”

“Not this kind, Ellie.” Kain’s smile broadened when he glanced at John and saw the old man trying hard to keep the grin on his face from breaking out into a full laugh.

“What do you two know that’s so funny?” Vanessa’s eyes traveled over the expectant faces around the table and she pinched Kain’s thumb with her fingernails.

“First I’d better tell you about this place, The House. It was built by a woman named Mary Gregg about ten years ago. She and her husband came up from Texas and filed on land west and south of here. After a year or so they were pushed off the land, and shortly after that her husband died. Mary was left with a little money, but not enough to live on. She was a lovely, compassionate lady, and one day she saw the owner of the saloon throw one of his . . . ladies of the night out into the street. The girl had nowhere to go. It gave Mary an idea. She bought this land, built this house and opened a brothel.”

“A what?” Vanessa gasped. “You mean . . . a wh—”

“That’s exactly what I mean, sweetheart.” His amber eyes glinted with amusement as they traveled from Ellie’s shocked face to Vanessa’s. It was deathly quiet for the space of several seconds, then both women erupted in laughter.

“That’s why . . . that man in town was . . . so friendly!” Vanessa gasped between bursts of laughter, her eyes shining like sapphires.

“My land! I wondered why he was so pleased The House was going to be opened.” Color had stained Ellie’s cheeks and she kept her eyes turned away from the men.

“‘Don’t ya worry none, ma’am,’” Vanessa mocked, laughter making her so radiant Kain couldn’t tear his gaze away from her, “‘Stan Taylor’ll spread the word.’”

“Vanessa!” Ellie chided, but smiled despite her embarrassment.

“According to what John heard in town, Stan did a good job.”

“For goodness sake, Kain. You mean men are coming here thinking that . . .”

“Yes ma’am. They’ll be coming here thinking that! The House is well known among cowboys and drifters, traveling men and, no doubt, some respectable husbands.”

“Well, I never!”

“Mary just ran the place,” Kain hastened to add. “She wasn’t one of the girls. The House is known all over the territory as a place where a man can come if he’s sick or hurt or needs . . . ah, whatever.”

“Sounds like a mighty fine place to know ’bout,” John said, then his weathery face turned beet red and he looked fixedly down at his plate.

“What’re you talking about, Kain? I don’t know why Van’s laughing.” Henry had a puzzled frown on his face. “It ain’t funny if a man’s sick. We had sick people come to the farm back home and Ma and Van didn’t laugh.”

“How did you come to buy the place, Kain?” Vanessa asked quickly, teasingly, to fill the void after Henry’s question.

“Whew . . . thank you, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Mary’s childhood sweetheart, a man named Case Malone, came up from Texas. He worked for awhile with Logan Horn out at the Morning Sun Ranch, then he and Mary went back to Texas when his brother died and someone was needed to run things there. Mary rented the place to Bessie Wilhite and she carried on in Mary’s tradition. When Bessie married a man from Wyoming and moved there, I bought the place from Mary just because I didn’t want someone else to have it, I guess. Now I’m glad I did.” He smiled down at Vanessa and his fingertips caressed the palm of her hand.

“That’s why there are all those rooms up there—for sick people,” Henry announced.

“Does anyone want more pie?” Ellie asked so quickly that even the faces of the somber Texans were creased with wide grins.

Later in the afternoon a visitor arrived, but it wasn’t a male visitor. Vanessa was washing the upstairs windows in the middle hallway when she saw a shiny black landau driven by a Negro servant in livery stop at the front gate. Two escort riders reined in a distance away and sat their mounts. The servant jumped out of the buggy and handed down a woman covered from neck to toe in a dust coat. She had a large scarf over her head. She removed the coat and scarf and handed them to the driver. She was dressed all in white from the small brimmed hat perched on her high-piled blond hair to the tips of her buttoned shoes, except for something pink that fluttered from the neck of a hip-length, form-fitting jacket. She daintily lifted the sides of her white wool, tiered skirt to keep it from brushing the dry weeds that edged the walk and came toward the door, a floating vision of white and pink beauty.

Vanessa dropped the wet cloth in the bucket of water and hurried down the stairs, knowing Ellie and Mary Ben had gone to the barn and Kain was resting in his room. At an insistent rap she opened the door and stared. The face she looked into had the perfection of an exquisite cameo.

The woman lifted artfully plucked eyebrows and looked at her coolly. Blue eyes traveled over Vanessa with appraising frankness and pink lips opened to reveal small, extremely white teeth.

“I understand Kain is here.”

“Yes,” Vanessa managed to say.

“I want to see him.” The woman stepped across the threshold, stopped, turned, and once again studied Vanessa with a certain cool and rather amused patience. “Well, get him.”

The words were ordinary, but the tone was not. It was marked by a commanding rasp designed to place the beautiful but untidy redhead firmly in the pigeon-hole marked “inferior.” Vanessa’s eyes flashed with anger and her proud chin lifted. Unconsciously her hand lifted to the straggling curls on her forehead, but she lowered it quickly when the woman’s pink lips twitched knowingly.

“You can wait in here.” Vanessa swung open the double doors to the parlor and the woman swept past her.

In spite of her soiled, damp dress, dirt-smudged face and unruly hair that had sprang loose from the ribbon, Vanessa marched with dignity down the hall to Kain’s room. She opened the room without knocking and found him sleeping soundly, his boots on the floor beside the bed.

“Kain, wake up.” She shook him gently. “Kain?“

“I’m awake, sweetheart. Hmm . . . what a nice way to wake up.” His hands reached for her face and pulled it to his. As her mouth came to his, she felt the soft mating of their breath before his lips opened gently beneath hers. He kissed her, lingeringly, lovingly. When the kiss was over, she gazed down at him, seeing the tenderness in his eyes as his fingers touched the fair skin of her neck where her pulse beat so rapidly.

“Come lie down with me.” His voice had a sensual rasp. When his arms moved to pull her down beside him, she pulled back.

“You have a visitor.”

“A visitor? Let him wait, I want to hold you, love you, kiss you.” He grasped her hand and slipped it inside his shirt so her palm lay flat against his chest. “It was worth getting shot to feel your hands on me.”

“It’s a woman. She’s waiting in the parlor.”

“What does she want?” Kain’s hands reluctantly fell from her when she stepped back. He sat up on the side of the bed, reached for his boots, slipped them on and ran his fingers through his hair. Vanessa was at the door when he looked up. “Wait a minute, honey.”

The woman was standing in the parlor doorway when Vanessa walked down the hall and turned to go up the stairs. She heard Kain’s boots on the floor behind her, then the woman’s soft laugh and lilting voice.

“Kain, darling. It’s so good to see you.”

Kain heard the door to the stairway close as he went down the hall. “Hello, Della.”

“Well, aren’t you glad to see me?”