Chayton was quiet. Then he placed his head against Callie’s breast.
“As you wish,” he murmured and then seemed to fall asleep.
Callie placed her hand on the back of Chayton’s head, running her fingers over his long luxuriant hair. She savored the feel of the dark strands between her fingers, as she stroked his hair. His head, resting against her breast, felt natural to her. She didn’t want to move, but one of the babies started crying, and she was forced to gently push Chayton from her, so she could retrieve the child and feed it.
It was Joey who was crying, and Callie took the infant, who was now wearing a proper diaper and returned to the bed, placing his dark head against her white breast, so he could nurse.
Callie sat propped against the pillow against the headboard of the bed, as she fed Joey. A hand came up against the back of the infant, and Callie looked beside her at Chayton, who had reached his hand up, and was watching her nurse his son.
“I call him Joey now,” she murmured. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t think you would be coming back, and I thought he would do better with an American style name.”
“You were planning to keep him?” Chayton asked.
“I wasn’t sure. I was told you were all dead, and you had made me promise to take care of him. I didn’t think it would be possible to take him back to your tribe. He had to have someone to feed him. Besides, I have grown to love him, the same way I love my own child.”
“Joey,” he mumbled.
“If you don’t like the name…”
“I like it well enough,” he told her.
“Good,” she said, as she continued nursing his child.
When she had finished, Shanny was crying, and she traded Joey for Shanny, placing her against the other breast.
“You have good milk,” Chayton, said softly, as he lifted his hand and laid it against the breast Joey had vacated. “It tastes sweet and pure, just like you,” he told her.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, feeling a little embarrassed at his words.
“Weak, but I think I will live, thanks to your tending to me.”
Callie lifted Shanny and replaced her in the crib.
“You should probably eat some broth or something,” she murmured.
Chayton reached up and took her hand, pulling her back on the bed beside him.
“In the river, when we were together, you had milk left over, after feeding the babies. Perhaps, mother’s milk will help me heal.”
Callie hesitated, but then she lay beside him, pulling his head to her breast.
“If there is any left over, you are welcome to have it,” she said, as she felt his mouth cover her.
Chayton felt the warm sweet milk, trickle down his throat, as he took her breast into his mouth. The feel and taste of it seemed to revive him, and he was honored that she was willing to offer him such sustenance. It bonded him to her in such a way his whole being felt complete.
His mouth moved to her other breast, and Callie looked down upon him, discovering the very act of allowing him this small wish, was causing her emotions to rise up within her. He continued to caress her with his mouth, and they both seemed to gain pleasure from the closeness it created between them.
Eventually, Chayton fell asleep against Callie’s breast, and she stroked his head, thankful he was still alive. She realized she was slowly falling in love with Chayton, but once Cooper returned, he would have to leave, so she tried not to let her heart get too tangled in her feelings for him.
She finally got up, because there were chores to be done, and she wanted to make some broth for Chayton to have when he woke up again.
Connor came into the kitchen as she began to build the fire.
“Wake your sisters up and have them gather the eggs, while you feed the cow and milk her. Later, you need to bring some more wood into the house. I am going to be very busy taking care of Chayton and the babies, so you will have to be responsible for things,” she told him.
Connor looked proud and smiled.
“Then Chayton is still alive?” he asked.
“Yes, but he needs my constant care. I am getting ready to make some broth for him and mush for you and your sisters. Once you are all through eating, you need to remain outside, playing or doing other chores, until lunch time. I don’t want any noise to wake him or the babies,” she informed him.
Connor did as she asked him, and Callie set the bowls out to put the mush in, for when the children came back in after their morning chores.
Connor put the milk in the icebox and went to the ice cellar for another block of ice to put in it since the ice had melted while they were away.
Once the children were fed, Callie decided to soak Chayton’s shirt in a sink of cold water, to see if she could remove most of the blood. As she pushed the shirt under the water, she felt something in a pocket that was fashioned in the shirt. She reached her fingers in and pulled out a little, beaded turtle. The design on its back looked so unique and well worked. She slipped it into her skirt pocket, so she could ask Chayton about it, when he woke up.
Callie returned to her room to check on Chayton and the babies. They were all still asleep. She lay down on the bed beside Chayton and watched his sleeping face. Slowly his eyes opened, and he smiled.
“I was dreaming of you, but when I opened my eyes, I found it was not a dream,” he said, leaning over and kissing her lips, gently. “I need you beside me like this,” he told her.
“I will get you some broth,” she murmured, afraid to tell him what she was really feeling.
He nodded, and she left to return with a bowl of broth.
“Can you sit up?” she asked.
“It hurts to move, but I think I can manage,” he grunted, as he tried to push himself into a sitting position.
She handed him the bowl, and he slowly ate a few spoonful’s and then handed her the bowl again.
“I’ll put it back on the stove to keep it warm,” she told him, as she left the room.
When she returned, she pulled the little turtle from her pocket.
“I was washing the blood from your shirt, and I found this in the pocket,” she told him, handing him the small turtle.
Chayton gave a weary smile.
“It is to be used to preserve the infant’s navel when it falls off. There are herbs inside, and when the child is old enough to walk, the turtle will be pinned to his shirt. It is to remind him of his beginnings, and that his grandmother made the pouch for him. His aunt made him his cradleboard, and later, when he looks upon it, he will remember the love that went into making it. Our family history is very important to us. Over the years, there will be other such trinkets, and keepsakes, which will be put with the children’s belongings. Then they can look back on their lives and know where it led them.”
“Do you have such collections of things?” she asked.
“Yes, in my wigwam, at my village. My family will keep them safe for me, for when I return. They are expecting me to return with my wife.”
Callie sat down on the bed.
“I am sorry your wife had to die, and couldn’t raise your son. He is such a handsome little child.”
Chayton placed the turtle in her hand.
“Keep it to place his navel in, when the time comes,” he told her, closing her hand around the turtle pouch.
Callie put the pouch on her bedside table, just as both babies started crying. She got up and changed them, bringing them over to the bed to nurse. She sat propped against the pillow with a baby against each breast, as Chayton watched on. Once they had finished, she burped them, and placed them back in the crib, gazing down at them sleeping next to each other.
Chayton seemed a little stronger than before, as he laid his head against her; then he lifted her dress up over her head, to expose her body to his view.
“You have a beautiful body,” he told her. “Your skin is so white and soft. You feel very pleasant against my cheek.
Chayton’s mouth and he began to kiss agai
nst her skin and continued to kiss her, as his mouth wandered over her supple curves. His kisses moved to her face until he was consuming her lips beneath his.
“Having you here will make me strong again,” he told her. “You are my strength now.”
Chayton clutched her to him until he fell asleep once more. When he woke, he called her to him from where she was tending to the babies.
“I need to relieve myself, and I do not think I can stand or walk,” he told her. “Do you have a jar?”
Callie nodded, going to the kitchen and returning with a canning jar.
“Can you help me?” he asked, as he fumbled with the string of his breechcloth.
Callie didn’t hesitate. She had touched him in the river, and there was nothing else she could do. When he was finished, she left to empty the jar, and then returned to the bedroom again.
Throughout the day, she tended to both Chayton and the babies. She stopped to make lunch for the children, hung Chayton’s shirt out to dry, once most of the blood was soaked out, and then later made dinner for her and the children, bathing them, before sending them to bed.
“When Chayton gets better, can we look at the house plans?” Connor asked her.
“Yes,” Callie smiled, “and then you can tell me everything your mother wanted for the house.
He gave her a hug and went into the room with the girls.
Callie returned to her own room, removing her dress, and crawling under the covers beside Chayton. She liked the feel of his body against hers, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit it to herself, as she idly stroked her hand over the scars on his chest.
“Your touch is gentle and healing,” Chayton murmured.
“Are you feeling better?” she asked.
“Now that you are here beside me, I am,” he half-chuckled.
“I have spent the whole day tending to your needs,” she smiled.
“Yes, I have enjoyed the way you have tended to me, cleaning my wound, not to mention holding a jar for me, when needed. I feel like I am using you up,” he murmured.
Callie thought about how Chet had threatened to use her up, in order to bring about a child. If this was using her up by Chayton’s standards, she was glad to comply, she smiled to herself.
“Just keep getting better, is all I ask,” she told him.
“I feel better, every time you are near me,” he insisted. “When you touch me, my heart soars, and when my lips taste your sweet skin, I am revived all the more.”
“I am glad I have that effect on you,” she responded.
“Then let me return the favor, and touch your skin, as we lay here,” he whispered, bringing his hand to one breast, and tracing his fingers over it.
Callie shivered at the feel of his fingers wandering over her, and remembered when he had touched her so gently when they had bathed together, only this time he was not using a cloth, and his fingers had a way of causing her heart to almost stop, when he began to explore her body with his touch.
She found herself running her hand over his skin as well, feeling a certain boldness, since she had cared for him, so intimately, and he no longer seemed like a stranger to her. Her fingers continued to stroke against him, as his hands caressed her soft skin in return.
They pulled away from each other, when the babies started crying to be fed, and he watched her, in somewhat wonder, as she nursed the infants. When she had finished feeding them, it seemed natural to return to what they had been doing.
Chayton smoothed his hands over her skin as he found new places to explore. The feel of his hands upon her, caused Callie to lift to his touch, as they traced over her, bringing her skin alive, and eager to feel the softness of such a caress.
Callie felt herself melting in a way she had never experienced before, having always dreaded Chet’s touch. Every touch awakened something new from within her until she was shivering beneath his caresses
Chayton’s mouth covered Callie’s lips, looking for deeper fulfillment at the taste of her sweet lips, to satisfy his need to be consumed by her closeness.
“Are you sure you are strong enough for something like this?” she whispered.
“Probably not,” he half-grinned, “but the touch of you feels so wonderful to me.”
“You should probably heal some more,” she told him.
“Tomorrow, then,” he smiled, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it. “I will probably need you to bathe me, by then,” he softly chuckled.
“I will gladly agree,” she told him, and his mouth came down over hers, again.
“I always need you here beside me,” he whispered against her mouth.
“What about when it is time for you to leave,” she asked.
“That won’t be for several weeks yet,” he reminded her. “Until then, you are all I need.”
He clutched her to him, but he seemed to grow weaker, and she feared he had over-exerted himself.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Callie woke to Chayton tossing his head back and forth. She could see the perspiration beaded on his brow. She placed her hand on his forehead, and then withdrew it immediately. He was burning up. That could only mean one thing. There was some sort of infection. She threw the covers back and checked his wound. She could see the skin around the wound was red and swollen, and puss had started to form around the wound. Callie started to panic. She wasn’t sure what to do, other than keeping the wound clean.
Callie went to the kitchen to retrieve the bottle of whiskey, pouring some out on a cloth, wiping it over the wound, and making sure all the puss was expelled. She heard Chayton groaning and glanced up at him.
“I think your wound is infected,” she breathed. “If it gets any worse, you may die.”
“Do you have any aloe growing nearby?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Bring some, and use the inside to place over the wound. It will help it heal.”
Callie got dressed, and when she saw Connor in the kitchen, she sent him out to cut some aloe stalks, in order to use them. Once he returned with them, Callie did as Chayton instructed, opening the plant, and placing it on the wound, and then wrapping the bandage over the plant to keep it in place.
When Chayton saw the fear in Callie’s face, he reached up and touched her cheek.
“I am strong,” he told her. “I have healed from many other wounds, which I have received in wars and raids. There is nothing to worry about.”
“Just don’t die on me,” Callie begged.
“How can I die and leave you behind?” he asked. “I must live for both, you and my son. You will need my protection, once I have recovered. Don’t worry, my love, I will recover.”
Chayton had called her, his love, which touched Callie in a way she hadn’t expected.
“I love you too,” she whispered.
“Good,” he smiled and closed his eyes.
The rest of the day, Callie kept a close eye on Chayton’s wound, making sure it was drained, and clean, then replacing the aloe leaf over the wound to help it heal. Whenever Chayton woke, she fed him broth, but he seemed too weak to request anything else. Connor often came in, looking as worried as Callie felt, but all she could do was wait and hope the infection cleared, instead of getting worse.
The girls seemed quiet and sullen. They knew things had changed. Their little sister was no longer there, and neither was their father. They were not aware that Chayton lay in Callie’s room recovering from his ordeal in the whole affair. Callie knew she should dedicate more time to them, but taking care of two small infants, while watching over Chayton seemed to consume all of her time and energy.
She would make it up to them, she determined. Once Chayton recovered completely, she would start going over the plans of the house and staking out where they wished to build it. Then she would have to hire some builders, to work on both the house and the bunkhouse. It seemed there was so much to do. When Cooper returned he would have to buy new calves to raise for the next cattle drive. Since Chet had set asid
e so much money to build the house, she could use the extra money, not only to furnish the house but to buy more cattle than they had the year before. The future was looking good, if only Chayton recovered, so she wouldn’t have to worry about him, along with everything else.
Callie had told her father that she would not write him, but she changed her mind, and decided to inform him of Chet’s death, the birth of a new grandchild, and her plans to stay and work the ranch on her own. As it turned out, perhaps her forced marriage was working out better than she had expected; considering she was now an independent woman, and could run her ranch, and raise her sister’s children, along with her daughter, and perhaps, Chayton’s son, however she pleased, without society looking down their noses at her. She was starting to feel like her own person, and she liked the potential it gave her.
Slowly, Callie was able to keep Chayton’s infection at bay, and it finally cleared up. Now Chayton could get out of bed and take care of his own needs. He began eating with the family at dinnertime, and the children got used to having him there. At night, Callie slept in his arms, as he showered her with affection. She dreaded the day that Cooper would return, and Chayton would have to return to his people. If he remained, they would turn him in for the murder of Chet, and he would have to stand trial. The new demands that Indians were subject to the law of the United States kept the Indians from raiding and claiming they had a right to do so.
Now Callie and Connor poured over the plans of the house, Chet had bought, and talked about how they wanted the house to look, and where they wished to build it. Chayton showed little interest. He watched from a distance. He could see that Callie was caught up in a new future, and somehow he was afraid her kind of future did not include him. He knew full well that she would never come to live with him in his village. There was so much conflict going on between the Indians and the government, that being a member of his tribe may not even be safe, he had to admit.
Renegades from both the Comanche and Kiowa were rebelling against the government, to show their displeasure of how the white man kept taking more and more of their land, and placing laws on them that prevented them from being able to hunt the buffalo on land that had always been considered their territory. They would all be forced on reservations, regulated by the government, if they did not keep the white man’s law, and not wander beyond the borders the government set for their tribes.
Beyond the Heart Page 13