Fireblossom

by Wright, Cynthia

  "I apologize if I'm intruding..." he said hesitantly, glancing from Maddie to Mrs. Loomis with ill-concealed curiosity.

  "Absolutely not!" Maddie jumped to her feet and rushed to greet him as if he were a much loved relative returning from the war. "What a perfectly lovely surprise, Fox! How well you look!"

  In truth, that was an understatement. For an instant time seemed to stop as Maddie soaked up the picture Fox made framed in the sunlit doorway. He was thoroughly bronzed by the sun, which made his eyes even more crisply blue in contrast, and when he smiled the flash of his teeth was startling. Maddie could see that he was grimy and sweaty, too, but that made him appear stronger, leaner, taller, and more intensely male than ever.

  "Could you spare a cup of water for a thirsty man?" he asked.

  Maddie hurried to comply, and they all were silent for a minute as he drank. Finally, Garnet Loomis spoke up in loudly flirtatious tones, "Well, well, at last I get to meet the man every girl in Deadwood's pining for... 'specially little Victoria!" She winked, then stood up and put out her hand. "Fox, I'm Garnet Loomis! Come on and sit with us. I've been helpin' Miss Madeleine with her bread dough. You know how these eastern girls are, all weak and pale, fainting at a moment's notice!"

  With a slow smile that begged Maddie to meet his eyes, Fox said, "Faint? Miss Avery? Impossible! It is tempting, I know, to underestimate beautiful women, but Miss Avery is a very intrepid lady." He clasped Garnet's hand briefly, assessing the situation. "I'm afraid that we can't spare the time to socialize, Mrs. Loomis, because I've come to discuss a business matter with Miss Avery. If you'll excuse us..."

  Garnet all but dug in her heels as he steered her toward the door. "Say, did you hear the news? Jacob Horn rode into town this morning with an Injin head! He's been carrying it around to all the saloons, hopin' to sell it."

  "I doubt whether Miss Avery is interested," Fox remarked dryly.

  Shaking her head and frowning, Garnet declared, "Injins is somethin' we all have to think about, whether we like it or not. All I can say is that it's a good thing us whites got these Hills back. Some Injin lovers think those bloodthirsty, sneaking Sioux deserved to keep the Hills, but the truth is that they barely tiptoed higher than the foothills 'cause they were scared of evil spirits!"

  "Mrs. Loomis, at the risk of sounding like one of those Indian lovers you despise, I have to confess that I disagree with almost everything you've just said." Fox opened the door and gestured to indicate that she was to exit. "Have a pleasant afternoon."

  A pang of guilt propelled Maddie to the doorway. "I appreciate your help, Mrs. Loomis. And I know that my grandmother will be so pleased by your gift. It was kind of you to think of us."

  Backing away from the little frame house, Garnet Loomis looked uncustomarily befuddled. "You tell Susie that I made that jam from serviceberries I gathered myself."

  "I give you my word," Maddie said sincerely. Then, the moment the door was shut, she looked up into Fox's dancing eyes and the two of them burst out laughing. Maddie clapped a hand over her own mouth and tried to stifle her mirth.

  "Don't let her hear you!" she managed to gasp, leaning on his arm. "The poor thing. She means well...."

  He stopped laughing then and cocked an eyebrow at her. "The hell she does! If you let an overbearing person like Garnet Loomis call the tune, she'll do her best to tyrannize you." Suddenly he was keenly aware of Maddie's nearness, the light pressure of her hand on his bare forearm and the fresh green color of her eyes. "Perhaps I am prejudiced against people who see the world only through their own eyes and have no patience with those who believe differently."

  "And I thought I was being tolerant for trying not to condemn her on the basis of her appearance and manners," Maddie replied with a laugh. Then, suddenly, a look of horror crossed her face as she remembered her own appearance. Fox, who was just a few inches away, had begun to let his eyes roam over her, smiling to himself as he took in her bedraggled hair, flour-smudged face, and threadbare frock.

  Before she could distance herself from him, she found herself backed against the parlor wall. "Don't worry," Fox said, amused, as if he'd read her mind. "I like the way you look. In fact, it's reassuring to discover that you can look like this."

  "Like a slovenly hag?" Maddie's heart began to pound as she met his gaze. Fox towered over her and there was something about him that was perversely exciting.

  "A hag?" He laughed. "Hardly. You're a beautiful woman, Miss Avery, more beautiful than you know. But every time I've seen you, you look like one of those rich society females portrayed in Godey's Lady's Book, every hair in place and your body stiff and perfect. Too perfect for my taste." Caught up in wave of daring, he slid an arm around her tiny waist. "You're downright radiant just like this, with your skin fresh and your hair curling the way it wants to. This gown shows your own shape instead of one that changes you with bones and bustles. I'm reassured to discover that you are secretly a woman, after all, and not a porcelain doll."

  "Mr.... Fox, your familiarity oversteps the boundaries that must exist between a well-bred lady and... the men of her acquaintance." Even as she spoke, Maddie was horrified to realize that her words lacked conviction. In point of fact she was having difficulty breathing. "You... must be aware, sir, that propriety further dictates that you and I should not even be alone together in this house, else..."

  "Else I might attempt to compromise your virtue?" Fox said in a soft, richly amused voice. He leaned closer, so that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her brow. "Fear not, Miss Avery. If I admire your beauty or touch your waist, what crime is that? Your virtue is safe with me... unless, of course, you wish otherwise?"

  Flushing and dizzy, Maddie felt his body press against her slim form. And she liked it. She knew that she ought to utter an outraged protest, but in her secret heart, she was thrilled and tantalized.

  Slowly Fox slid his arms around her, loving the way fragility and womanliness blended in her body. She was slightly damp with perspiration, and he thought idly that this must be the way paradise smelled: floral, clean, yeasty, and just a little musky. The feel of her warm curves and her fragrance and the sight of her astonishing marmalade-bright hair made him want to flick open all the buttons on her gown and bring her to life. How much passion must be locked in her prim little soul!

  "Would you like me to kiss you?" His lips grazed her ear.

  The sensation of his body pressing against her, and the tickle of his breath on her ear, sent shivers through Maddie's body that she had never imagined before. She was deliciously warm, and when the shivers seemed to gather between her legs, she blushed with embarrassment and innocent yearning. "I—I don't know. I mean, I haven't before, and it would be scandalous for me to assent...."

  "Are you serious? You have never been kissed?"

  "I'm a lady, if I may say so without sounding self-important. My mother was careful to protect me from..."

  "Men like me?" Fox laughed softly. "Well, I mean no offense to you or your mother, but it's high time you were kissed, Miss Avery! We'll pretend it's an experiment and no one will ever know. How's that?"

  "I'd really rather not have a conversation about... this."

  "Indeed?" He flashed a grin. "I see. Despite your avowed preference for the rules of etiquette, you secretly wish to cast them off—or, better yet, have me do it for you."

  Maddie couldn't look at him. Why must he torment her so? And then, as she lowered her lashes, he took pity on her—and himself. It was alarming to realize how much he wanted her, and of course, a taste was all he could have. It would have to do.

  Slowly Fox gathered her into his embrace and tipped back her delicate face. Her eyes were closed, the lids pale and nearly translucent, which made her appear even more innocent. The irony of this scene was not lost on him. Here he was in a town filled with wanton women, and he had found the one beauty who clung tenaciously to propriety. Moreover, that same prim but luscious beauty was now nearly swooning in his arms, eyes closed and l
ips pursed as she waited fearfully for her first kiss.

  "Madeleine..."

  How she wished he would stop talking and simply take her! "What is it?" she whispered.

  "Look at me."

  Swallowing hard, she complied. His eyes, so uncompromisingly blue, were inches away, smiling into her own. And there was another sort of gleam in his gaze that sent a fresh wave of shivers through her body.

  "Put your arms around my neck," Fox murmured. "Go on. Touch me."

  Her face burning, she obeyed. Something about the overpowering nearness of him, the strength of his shoulders and neck, the very smell of his male sweat, caused a sudden throb in Maddie's most secret place. As if he felt it, too, or saw it in her eyes, Fox smiled and slowly covered her mouth with his. Her lips were closed, but soon he'd coaxed them to soften and part and she felt herself sigh from the sheer unexpected pleasure of the sensations he evoked.

  No wonder people liked to kiss! All these years Maddie had imagined a strange, dry pressing of one closed mouth against another. Instead it was magical. Fox seemed to caress her mouth with his, kissing parts of it, then tasting all as if she were succulent. To her further surprise, she discovered that she liked the way his mouth felt and tasted... and she wanted more. Her breasts had begun to tingle behind the thin cotton of her gown; never in her life had she felt like this, and she was shocked to experience a powerful urge to surrender completely to Fox's masculine spell.

  When she began to run her hands through his hair, caressing his neck and shoulders, hesitantly touching her tongue to his, Fox was thunderstruck and intensely aroused. Maddie was ambrosia beyond his wildest dreams. The top buttons of her gown were open in deference to the heat, and he glimpsed a dusting of freckles trailing down the ivory skin hidden behind more tiny buttons. Without thinking, he pressed his lips to the base of her throat, burning to open her bodice, just to see her breasts. The remarkable color of her hair had attracted him from the moment they'd met, and slowly he'd allowed himself to wonder about the woman's body that went with hair the shade of rosy-gold dawn. Freckles, he now knew. The thought of her breasts, pale and opulent, with pink nipples, increased his desire to the point of pain.

  When Fox kissed her throat, Maddie tasted his neck, reveling in the feeling of the muscular body holding her so effortlessly. Then, quite without warning, a familiar voice brought her hurtling back to reality.

  "Ahh-hem!"

  They broke apart instantly, and Maddie's knees nearly gave way. Somehow she managed to steady herself and meet the keen, perceptive gaze of Gramma Susan.

  "I declare, will wonders never cease?" the old woman remarked, with a chuckle. "Fox, you have exceeded even my expectations of you on this day. I confess that I thought Maddie would be the last person in Deadwood to capitulate to your charm." As she talked, she walked away from them into the kitchen, forcing Maddie to follow. Fox, meanwhile, went over to Benjamin, who stood in the front doorway holding up his bandaged finger.

  "Gramma Susan, it's not what you think," Maddie began, blushing profusely, wishing again that she'd never set eyes on Fox in the first place.

  "No? What a pity." Susan O'Hara peeked under the checked towel to inspect the rising bread, then looked up with a smile. "It doesn't matter in the least what I think, my dear. I would be the last to condemn you and the first to congratulate you if you've finally tasted the pleasures of—"

  "No, no, it was nothing like that!" Maddie cried. "I think I was having a sunstroke, or something like that, and—"

  "Don't say you fainted again!" Susan shook her head. "How very tedious."

  At that moment Fox himself appeared, filling the doorway, with Benjamin in tow. "Good afternoon, Mrs. O'Hara."

  "Fox's going to take me to see where he's building his new house!" Maddie's brother exclaimed.

  "I really don't think that's a good idea, Benjamin—"

  "Call me Ben. Fox says it's a better name in the West."

  Maddie had been too embarrassed to look at Fox before, but this was too much. "I beg your pardon, sir, but I hardly think that it's your place to choose the proper name for my brother, who is being raised a gentleman... not a crude hooligan!" Stiffly she turned her attention to Benjamin. "You have just returned from the doctor and I won't have you traipsing off to heaven knows where to see a house that isn't even built yet."

  Even Susan was smiling, and Fox bit his lip as the boy countered, "Fox's house isn't going to be in heaven knows where! He's going to live right next to us, on the other side of the pine trees!"

  Maddie went pale and had to grip the back of a chair to keep from swaying. "Wh—what did you say?"

  "Maybe," Fox himself interjected, "I forgot to tell you that we'll soon be neighbors. That's why I came here for water; I was working just a few yards away, preparing the land for the lumber that arrives today."

  "Isn't it wonderful news?" Susan declared. "I must admit that for once I wholly approve of my son-in-law's judgment. He couldn't have sold that parcel to anyone I'd rather have for a neighbor. Maddie, aren't you pleased?"

  "Pleased?" she echoed, trying to force a smile. "Why, I'm quite... overcome!"

  PART 2

  I think of thee!—

  my thoughts do twine and bud.

  About thee, as wild vines about a tree....

  ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

  Chapter 6

  July 17, 1876

  "Madeleine Avery, what are you doing?" Susan stood at the foot of the stairs, drying her hands on a dishtowel. "You can't hide up there reading all the time!"

  Maddie appeared and descended with a book in her hand. "I've finished The Count of Monte Cristo, Gramma. Such a witty, sophisticated adventure—and in France!" She paused on the last step to sigh, beaming. "It was the perfect escape from this horrid wilderness. And now I shall begin The Scarlet Letter, as soon as I can locate it among the books still packed in the trunk. How I wish for real bookshelves!"

  "The Scarlet Letter should certainly cheer you up," Susan remarked, with pronounced irony. "What's that book in your hand?"

  Maddie held it up to display the title: The Lady's Guide to Perfect Gentility. "It was Mother's. She gave it to me to refine my manners."

  Shaking her head, Susan took the volume and opened it. "Conversing with Fluency and Propriety," she read aloud. "How terribly boring. Let's go into the kitchen, where I have more interesting activities in progress."

  Maddie followed her grandmother, protesting, "It's been very helpful for me to read portions of this book again. For example, I knew that I should not allow myself to fall into the habit of calling Mr. Daniel by his Christian name, that it was wrong, but I acquiesced because that is how everyone seems to address him. This book reminds me that such practices open the way to unpleasant familiarities... much more so than one might imagine."

  "Unpleasant?" Susan echoed, baffled. "If you can bear to hear my opinion, I would say that book is unpleasant! Honestly, Maddie darling, why do you allow yourself to be taken in by such life-choking notions?"

  The kitchen was hot but colorful and fragrant with the odors of fresh-baked potato bread and apple cobbler. Susan, who had been born into wealth and had become wealthier still during her marriage to Patrick O'Hara, had always believed that money meant freedom—in this case freedom to buy what she wanted in spite of the exorbitant Deadwood prices. Today, that meant paying sixty cents for a pound of butter, seventy-five cents for a dozen eggs, a dollar for a large roasting chicken, and thirty cents for a pound of fresh cheese.

  "I thought we might take a picnic basket to Fox and Titus," she explained, gesturing toward the still-warm peas and the carved chicken, which had been basted with herbs and butter while it roasted. "The cabin is coming along quite nicely, but it's such hot, exhausting work."

  Maddie looked away. In the past few days she had done everything in her power to push all thoughts of Fox from her mind. But it was no use. During the day, lying on her bed and reading compulsively, she often imagined that she could feel h
im staring at her open window—that if she were to rise and look through the fluttering curtains, she would see him standing on the other side of the row of pine trees, eyes shaded as he gazed right through the walls of her home. At night he haunted her dreams.

  "Who is Titus?" she murmured to her grandmother, wandering over to inspect the cobbler.

  "Oh, he's a lovely fellow from Cornwall who is helping Fox. I never dreamed that there were so many different nationalities way out here in Dakota Territory, but it seems that the lure of gold attracts people from all over the world." As she spoke, Susan began assembling the picnic lunch. "Here, darling. Let's just spoon the peas into this jar with a lid and the men can pour out what they want."

  "Gramma Susan," Maddie began hesitantly, "what do you think about the Indians? I mean, aren't we all trespassing on their land, strictly speaking? According to your great friend Garnet Loomis, they're savages who didn't know how to use the Black Hills or the rest of the frontier. Yet one can't help feeling a bit uneasy about the way we've simply shoved them aside...."

  Susan gave her a look. "You needn't refer to Garnet as my 'great friend' in that tone, Maddie. I respect any person who is unapologetically genuine, but that does not mean that I agree with all her views." She brushed back a stray wisp of white hair. "I confess that I'm rather confused about the Indians myself and I mean to learn more. Ignorance and fear form the basis of prejudice, and I think that white people have rushed to judgment. We can't help wanting this wonderful land for ourselves, so we've justified taking it by deciding that the Indians are less human than we are.'" Susan pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Well, I mean to meet some Indians one day and form my own opinions."

  Her granddaughter could think of no response to this speech, which was extraordinary for a Philadelphia matron of advanced years.