Echoes of the Heart (26 page)

Raeden made use of
the opportunity when Watts left to find Jesse.
 
“I’m going back.
 
I’ll see you there.”

           
“In
that case, how about a farewell kiss?”

           
Her
hands balled into fists and dropped by her sides but she could not help
grinning.
 
“Really Cash, what am I do to
with you?”

His answer flowed
in a smooth drawl and one eyebrow arched.
 
“Anything you want, darlin’.”

She huffed in
exasperation, clomped out of the barn, and could feel his laughing gaze on her
back.

           
Cash
stood for a moment watching her walk away, the graceful swing of her hips and
the reflection of the sun off her long shiny hair, stifling the urge to run
after her and drag her to his hotel room, keeping her there until he had to
leave.
 
The sound of Watts
behind, brought him back to the reality of the task at hand.

***

With Mike’s
assistance, Cash loaded the wagon then returned to Raeden laboring over the
sewing machine.
 
He knelt on one knee,
arm propped on the other to reach eye level.
 
Raeden swiveled in the chair to face him, gazing into hungry dark eyes.

           
She
lifted her hand to place it on his shoulder.
 
“Will you come by before you leave to say good-bye?”

           
“I
will do better than that.
 
I finagled
Diane out of an invitation to dinner.
 
I
will see you tonight.”
 
He leaned near her
face, pecked her forehead, and stood.
 
He
flicked the tip of his hat.
 
“See you
later.”

           
Raeden
watched him saunter away admiring the way his firm muscles tightened under the
legs of his jeans and his hard rounded rear.
 
I think I would like a pair of
those denims.
 
They seemed perfect
for riding and more durable than the one’s she had made with lighter weight
fabric, beginning to show signs of wear.

           
 
Glancing over the stock of clothing, she found a pair if boys’ jeans she
thought would fit and held them up for inspection.
 
She turned in front of the mirror in the
washroom pleased with the fit.
 
She would
need to take in the waist and shorten the length.
 
The provocative fit over her bottom brought a
smile to her lips just thinking about flouting convention.
 
Maybe Diane would join her in this new
fashion trend.

           
After
making the necessary alterations, she chose a blue flannel shirt and went to
change into her new western ensemble.
 
After tying the long shirttails in front of her waist, she stared at her
reflection.
 
This will do nicely.

           
With
everything neat as a pin, she collected her clothes needing to be laundered and
packed them in Diane’s buggy.
 
She would
make an exchange to have variation in the wardrobe she kept at the store.

           
She
rode Arte hard through the now bleak landscape, her hair blowing back in the
wind and gazed at the snow peaked dark precipice encircled with a halo of
slivered white clouds.

***

Flames flickered
in the fireplace while Raeden sat at the vanity brushing her freshly shampooed
hair to a silky brilliance, the red highlights reflecting the hues of the
fire.
 
The soft tan pongee gown she had
chosen shimmered and altered colors in the light.
 
A marcasite pendant graced her long neck,
drawing attention to the swell of her breasts peaking provocatively above the
low cut neckline.
 
Her hair hung in loose
waves down her back.
 
The edge of a pale
lemon colored petticoat glinted when she lifted her skirts to descend the
stairs.

           
She
strolled through the dining room, determined everything in order and walked
into the parlor.
 
She poured a glass of
wine and joined Mike and Diane.

           
The
unmistakable resonance of hoof beats approaching brought Mike to his feet.
 
“It must be Cash.”
 
He welcomed him at the door.

           
Hat
and gun belt removed, he entered the parlor wearing well-tailored black leather
pants and jacket, a dashing display.
 
She
desired to run into his arms but held her emotions in check.
 
“Good evening, Diane.”
 
He paused for a second, “And, Rae.”
 
Her heart raced watching him move with the
grace and vigor of a panther, thinking he looked like a Greek god.

           
Raeden
stood.
 
“I’ll get you a whiskey.”
 
Their eyes met, held for only a second before
his wandered down to her bare shoulders and neck.
 
A once tranquil glance turned hungry, the
predatory slant to his eyes almost frightening.
 
Go get the damn whiskey before you
do something obtuse.

           
Pouring
the liquor into the crystal glass, her hand shook.
 
A large hand reached around grasping the
drink, the other on her shoulder.
 
“Let
me help you.”
 
She felt his warm breath
on her neck and became aware of heat rising to her face.

           
The
skin under his hand would surely blister if she did not do something.
 
She ducked away from his grasp and went back
to her wine, gulping the clear red liquid in an effort to cool her body.
 
She inhaled several deep breaths to regain
control and noticed a sly smirk curl his lips upward while his eyes raked the
length of her body, making her flesh burn.

           
Cash
extended his arm to walk her into the dining room, filled with the aromas of
their ham dinner and freshly baked bread.

           
Conversations
during the meal provided distraction but Raeden’s appetite had dwindled, so she
picked at her food.
 
She noticed Cash
didn’t eat much either and when their eyes met during dinner, she felt he must
be thinking the same thing running through her mind ever since he arrived.

Topics ranged from
the Indians to St. Louis and Paris.
 
Raeden noticed Cash seemed more open and
talkative than usual even laughing, joking, and showing a side she had only
seen recently.

           
After
they dined, Raeden and Diane wrapped in heavy shawls to join the men on the
porch while they enjoyed cigars.
 
Raeden
watched the aromatic smoke curl in the air around them, thinking one day she
might try one.
 
They adjourned to the
library for a game of whist.
 
Unable to
focus, Raeden played like a novice and relief descended when they had finished.
 
Nevertheless, she didn’t want Cash to leave.

           
She
wrapped up in her cloak to see him out the door where he crushed her against
his body to kiss her, making her knees weaken as she enfolded her arms around
his neck.

           
“I
have to leave, Rae, before I take you right here on the porch.”
 
He pulled her arms from his neck and looked
into her eyes.

           
All
these new sensations of late gave her misgivings about her moral
turpitude.
 
Her words expelled in
breathless gasps.
 
“I feel the same
way.
 
Is there something wrong with
me?
 
I have never felt like this
before.
 
It’s like I have no control when
I’m near you.”

           
“Believe
me little girl, there is
nothing
wrong with you but like I said, I have to leave.
 
I’ll see you when I return.”
 
He fanned his lapels as he strode toward
Rabbit and swung into the saddle, disappearing into the remote grassland at a
gallop, his cowpony churning up dirt clods from her unshod hooves.

***

Raeden sat at her
desk and penned a long letter to her family then curled on her bed, sketch book
and magazines fanned around her knees.
 
New editions of
La Couturière
Parisienne
and
London Fashion
arrived from New York and she
leafed through the pages to study the latest work of the famous European
designer Charles Frederick Worth, a genius in the trade.

           
Intrigued
by the leg of mutton sleeves
on the
latest designs from Paris and London,
she sketched variations enhancing her own ideas.

           
After
banking the fire, she climbed beneath crisp freshly laundered sheets, her head
sank into the soft down pillow, and she stared at the ceiling unable to
sleep.
 
Her mind wandered to the rogue in
black leather, his haunting black eyes, the beauty of his hard muscled body and
the feel of his hands and lips all over her.

The past days
spent with him showed a different side to his nature, a kinder gentler
side.
 
Content in the notion they could
be friends as well as lovers, she slept.

***

Cash had not
mentioned the magnitude of the incident between the miners and Indians, not
desirous of the backlash that could transpire when the townspeople became aware
of the situation.
 
Apparently, the Cheyenne
had killed one of the men.
 
Since
Custer’s last stand, the military command would use this occurrence to
annihilate his friends if they decided to fight.
 
It appeared the armed forces liked nothing
better than an excuse to show their prowess when it came to handling Indian
affairs.

           
In
an effort to avoid bloodshed, Cash would do his best to convince Dull Knife to
surrender the guilty party, possibly avoiding the inevitable retaliation that
could seal their fate.
 
Thoughts of this
crucial event and how to handle the situation, gnawed at his gut.
 
The discomfort broken only by manifestations
of his feelings toward Raeden and how he had let down his guard allowing her
entry into an area of his heart he wanted protected from further pain.

           
On
his arrival at the stronghold, the nostalgic aroma of wood smoke and tanning
hides filled his nostrils taking him back to happier times.
 
With no sign of Dull Knife, he helped unload
the wagon then grabbed the pouch of tobacco and searched out his friend
listening to the laughter of children as they played together in the protected
area encircled by their shelters.

           
Welcomed
into the teepee he found Dull Knife and his family in the last day of mourning
the loss of Running Wolf, his second oldest son and Cash’s childhood
friend.
 
The news crushed him but he held
his temper in check to hear the entire story.
 

The prospector in
question shot and killed him with no provocation.
 
In retaliation, Dull Knife avenged his
son.
 
Worse than Cash envisioned, he
confided the nature of his visit.
 
Both
men discussed possible solutions to the dilemma and concluded the only answer,
at least for the moment, was for the tribe to migrate over the border into The
Canadian Territory.

           
Tired
of living like hunted animals surviving by Cash’s generosity, Dull Knife
desired to leave, hoping their lives might continue as in the past, the
reservation in Oklahoma out of
the question.

           
The
following morning just as dawn broke, Cash appeared dressed in a breechcloth
and moccasins with his face painted ready to join in the stalker, hunter and
warrior games to build keen and quick eyes, ears and smell, intended to
increase stamina, stability and strength of the young men of the tribe.
 
He had participated in the sports as a youth,
bringing back pleasant memories of his time spent with his adopted family, when
his father would allow, and sometimes when he escaped his watchful eye.

           
Once
again, they spoke of his daughter and surprisingly he found himself telling
Dull Knife about Raeden and admitted he felt like a traitor to Little Cloud’s
memory by being with her.

           
“You
will find your path, Cash.
 
Be
patient.
 
Everything will fall into place
if you will just stay out of your own way.”

           
The
next night before they would be leaving, a ceremony to initiate a young warrior
into manhood took place, which Cash had celebrated himself many years
before.
 
He assisted in starting the
Sacred Fire with rubbing sticks in the center of the circle.
 
Four feet outside the fire, they built eight
smaller fires, remaining unlit.

           
The
young warrior danced the three-point pivot around the fire then eight more
young men who had already gone through the ceremony backed up against the unlit
fires with torches, singing and swaying then slowly from side to side holding
them high in the air.