More than one girl sidled up to him, took his arm, and brushed her ripe body against him, trying to take him to her room. Even Nellie made another try at it, but Cherokee kept his attention on the stairs. If he could kiss Silver or make love to her even one time, the fever in his blood might cool. After all, she was just a girl like many others, although she had the most flawless beauty he’d ever seen.
The shoemaker came in with a package under his arm, walked upstairs, and came back down. Cherokee watched him go to the roulette wheel but wouldn’t let himself question the man. How Cherokee wished he could have seen her face as she opened the box. Would she like his gift? Would she accept it? But of course she didn’t know he was the one responsible.
The noise abated suddenly, and heads turned. Cherokee knew even as he looked toward the stairs that Silver must be coming down.
She wore a sparkling silver dress that accented her light hair and diamond jewelry. It was tight on her small body, emphasizing her slim waist. Her full breasts swelled from the top of the low-cut bodice. On her feet, she wore the dancing slippers with real silver heels. The shoes glittered in the light as she crossed over to the piano and leaned against it.
The rough crowd quieted then began to applaud. Cherokee found himself clapping, too, caught up in the moment, in the love that flowed from this crowd toward the girl and her almost angelic beauty.
Silver motioned for silence and signaled the piano player. Cherokee found himself holding his breath as she sang:
Listen to the mockingbird, listen to the mockingbird, the mockingbird still singing o’er her grave . . .”
Once as she looked around the crowded, smoky saloon, her gaze found Cherokee’s face and they looked directly into each other’s eyes.
I love you, he said silently with his eyes, I need you, Silver, and you need me, too.
Her voice faltered a split second and she looked away. Thereafter, she seemed careful not to look his direction as she finished her song.
He didn’t care. He was certain she had gotten his silent message and he was satisfied.
She sang several songs while the place remained quiet as a lover’s sigh. Every man there seemed to hold his breath so as not to miss a single note of her high, sweet voice. Finally she finished to thunderous applause and the piano broke into a fast, rhythmic beat even as Silver ran lightly up the steps to the stage.
As she began to dance, the silver heels of the shoes caught the light and sparkled with her movement. Men began to nudge each other, pointing them out and nodding in approval.
Cherokee leaned back on the bar with both elbows and smiled. It didn’t matter that she would never know he had provided the silver for the shoes; she wouldn’t have accepted them if she’d known that. It was enough that the silver he had dug from his own claim decorated her tiny feet.
As she finished and took a bow, the men began to shout: Silver! Silver Heels! Silver Heels!”
She blushed prettily, took another bow, and the roar from the rowdy miners grew. Silver! Yes, Silver Heels!”
She came down from the stage and motioned to the piano player to play another number. As she ambled through the crowd, the men gave her one last, wistful look and returned to their cards and drinking.
She was coming toward him. Cherokee felt awkward and a little unsure of himself. He pretended nonchalance.
She stepped in front of him. I think we need to talk.”
Us?” He touched his chest in mock surprise. Good! She was going to be grateful. At least that was a start.
Silver gestured to the bartender. Al, bring us some coffee, and the cash box.”
Al appeared to be grumbling under his breath, but he moved to do her bidding. Silver marched away from the bar. Cherokee, not knowing what else to do, trailed after her, feeling very much like a lost hound pup.
She walked to a private cubicle that was curtained off from the saloon, where she could sit and watch the customers through a gap in the red velvet curtains. Cherokee followed her there. She sat down at the table.
He almost got up the nerve to sit next to her, then took a look at her face and decided against it. He sat down across from her. Her eyes were almost a clear, deep green now. She looked angry.
Al brought the coffee and the cash box, put them on the table, and hesitated. I’m as near as a shout, Silver.”
She smiled at him. I know that, Al. Close the curtains as you leave, will you?”
The barrel-chested little man looked as if he might protest, then shrugged and did as she ordered. The heavy velvet curtains blocked out much of the noise and music.
Cherokee decided to make light of it. Al seems to think I’m a threat of some kind.”
Are you?” She looked directly at him and he realized abruptly that this was an honest person. This was no coy, game-playing female.
To you?” He looked directly into her eyes. Not to you. Not ever to you.” He tried to appear nonchalant by rolling a cigarette, but his hand shook and he spilled some of the tobacco.
I seem to have forgotten your name, Mister—”
Evans. Cherokee Evans.”
That’s a nickname. Don’t you have a real name like John or Jim?”
He looked steadily back at her. Do you?”
He had flustered her with his probing question. He wondered for a long minute if she was Scandinavian. She looked it.
Is Cherokee all you’ve ever gone by?”
My grandmother named me Tsu-no-yv-gi. It means ‘rattler.’ It’s a deadly snake.”
She glared back at him. I know what it is. Sounds appropriate. What is it you want from me?”
Me?” He raised his eyebrows innocently, deciding he could be as blunt and straightforward as she had been. I think you know already. Why do you bother to ask?” He lit the cigarette and shook out the match.
At least you’re honest about it. But surely you know by now you’ll never get it.” She leaned back in her chair, studying him.
Cherokee shrugged his wide shoulders and blew smoke in the air. Man lives by hope, I reckon.”
There’s a dozen girls in the Nugget, and any one of them would fall on her back for free just to have a man like you take her in his arms.”
But not you?” He watched her closely. She was actually trembling. Was she really afraid or was it an act? And if it was real, what was it in her past that haunted her so? I won’t hurt you, Silver.” He blurted it out without thinking.
That’s what the others said!” She seemed to blurt her words out, too, without thinking.
Then it was almost as if she’d revealed too much. Her face became remote as if to keep her soul private. Her eyes were cold but her mouth trembled as she looked back at him. Why’d you do it?”
Do what?”
Don’t play innocent with me—the silver heels on the slippers. I’m not stupid enough to think a shoemaker can afford something like that.”
You know, those shoes were just perfect tonight,” Cherokee said, smoking his cigarette and watching her small hands clasped around her coffeecup. They clasped and unclasped, tense and nervous. He stifled the urge to reach out and cover her two small hands with one of his big ones. I think from now on, you’ll have a new nickname. I think the men will call you Silver Heels.”
She opened the cash box. What do I owe you?”
He was taken aback. Owe me? They were a gift!”
She smiled without mirth. It’s my experience with men that they never give a pretty girl anything without expecting something in return. I’m obligated to no man. What do I owe you?”
He threw away the cigarette in disgust. By damn! Just keep the shoes and forget it, all right?”
If you aren’t going to tell me, I’ll just have to guess.” Her tone was cold and hard as her eyes. She reached into the cash box and began counting out money onto the scarred table.
I won’t take it.”
Without a word she leaned over, took off the shoes, and put them on the table. Then you’ll take the shoes.”
<
br /> He was both exasperated and embarrassed at her stubbornness. What the hell am I supposed to do with a pair of slightly used dancing shoes?”
She shrugged. Give them to Nellie; but I’ll bet her feet are too big for them.”
Nellie doesn’t mean anything to me. I know you won’t believe it, but nothing happened up in her room last night.”
She didn’t believe it, he could see it in her eyes. It doesn’t matter. After all, that’s what she’s here for.”
Besides,” he said, I bought them just for you. There’s not another woman in the Territory with feet that small.”
Then you’ve made a bad investment on which you’ll get no return.”
He felt the flush creep up his neck. I’m not ready to write it off yet.”
Then you’re a fool.”
Just let me give you the damned shoes. I have no use for them.” He shoved back his chair and stood up.
I’ll buy them from you.” She pushed the pile of money toward him.
That’s more than they’re worth.” Cherokee made a gesture of refusal. If you won’t take them as a gift, at least don’t pay more than they’d cost you back East.”
She hesitated, then took back a few dollars. Is that about right?”
He nodded, both embarrassed and angry. I—I reckon it was a clumsy gesture on my part. I wanted to do something special for you.” There was a long pause. In the background, the music and noise drifted faintly through the heavy drapes. “You’re special, Silver.”
She looked up at him. You wouldn’t say that if I weren’t pretty. When a woman’s looks are gone, her admirers are, too.”
You don’t think very highly of men, do you?”
She seemed to be weighing her words. My past experience is all I’ve got to go on. You must not think much of women if you think you can buy your way into my bed with a gift.”
He thought of elegant, high-born Savannah. It’s been my experience that all white women will bed any man, given the right circumstances.”
Not this one.” She, too, stood up.
The scent of wildflower perfume drifted from the deep cleft between her full breasts. He had the most insane urge to sweep her into his arms and crush those soft breasts against his massive chest. He was overwhelmed with the need to kiss her until she, too, was breathless and shaking with desire as he was now.
Don’t try it,” she said and stepped backward. I might not be able to keep Al from killing you if he heard me scream.
He looked at her long and hard, wanting her so badly, he felt on fire. Would you scream?”
She hesitated and he saw confusion in her face. She stepped backward again. You know I would.”
The confusion had been replaced by fear. He had to fight himself to keep from sweeping her into his arms and covering her lips with his own. It would be like capturing some small, wild thing in his embrace. He imagined holding her very close against him, feeling her heart beating violently through her breast. He would kiss her so thoroughly that she would be unable to scream—not that she’d want to, not really. For a moment, he even thought of throwing her down across the table and taking her then and there.
Silver,” he whispered, I would never hurt you. I only want to make love to you.”
Same thing, damn it! Same thing!” The girl began to shake uncontrollably and a tear made a hot, crooked trail down her cheek. Fear like that couldn’t be faked. Deep shame swept over him.
He felt a deep urge to reassure her, to protect her from whatever ghosts were mirrored in those hard eyes. Cherokee looked down at her. I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
He reached up and she shied away, but he wiped the tear from her cheek with one big finger. For a moment, he thought she would scream. Instead, she took a deep, shuddering breath and turned away from him. Don’t touch me. Don’t even think about it!”
He would never get the beauty on her back beneath him—at least, not on this trip. I’m going back up Mosquito Gulch in the morning as soon as I get my burro shod. You won’t be bothered by the likes of me anymore.”
Good!” Silver glared at him. She brushed her hand across her mouth slowly. He couldn’t be sure if she was regretting her decision or making sure he hadn’t kissed her. What had crossed her mind just then?
There was so much more he wanted to say. But when he started to speak, she made a contemptuous gesture of dismissal. Whatever it is, I don’t want to hear it. All you men only want one thing from a woman!”
She grabbed her cash box and stalked from the cubicle, leaving him to gather up the money off the table with a sigh. Cherokee suddenly wanted to possess more than her body; he wanted her heart and soul. Whatever it was in her past that haunted her made her unable—or unwilling—to ever let a man caress her, or make love to her.
He left the Nugget and trudged back to his hotel. To break down that frigid reserve, he’d need time and an opportunity to get her away from her ugly bartender watchdog. He couldn’t see how he could do either one . . . not unless he kidnapped Silver and held her prisoner up at his lonely, isolated mountain cabin.
Chapter Three
Silver lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. It must be sometime in the wee hours of the morning, but she couldn’t sleep, even though the town had finally quieted down.
She was afraid of the dark. Had been ever since . . . no, she would not think of that tonight. She would think good thoughts. After all, she was still pretty and her face was her fortune. Wasn’t that what Ma had said? But she wouldn’t always be pretty.
Silver got out of bed and went over to study herself in one of the many mirrors in her room. Even in the dim moonlight, she could see well enough to reassure herself that her face still reflected her flawless beauty. Without that, Ma had said she was worthless. In fact, the plain, dumpy Norwegian had seemed to resent her only child’s looks.
You’re just like your father, Sylvia, Ma would whine resentfully, good-looking and worthless. Lars Hanssen drank hisself to death, he did, and left me with his brat and nothing else but a few poor acres and a couple of cows.
They both labored from sunup to sunset to sell enough milk and eggs in the nearby town to survive. But as the years passed, Ma begin to think of Sylvia’s blond beauty as an asset when men started to comment favorably on her child.
You may be worth something yet, Ma opined. Use that beauty to marry some rich man who’ll take care of your old Ma in style.
Sylvia didn’t say anything. Secretly she wanted to be a teacher and help those who were even worse off than she was. Then Ma had married one of their customers, Elmer Neeley. She would not think of her stepfather tonight.
Silver returned to her bed, pulled the covers up to her neck, and shivered a little in the chill air. She had only been sixteen when Ma married Neeley and they moved into his big house in town.
The young girl was uncomfortable with the way the man looked at her all the time he was courting her widowed mother. And when he kissed Sylvia after the wedding, he forced his tongue between her lips.
Afterward, he never missed an opportunity to kiss or hug Sylvia, or brush against her in a hallway. The girl didn’t know what to do or whom to tell. She was too innocent to know whether all stepfathers acted this way or not.
Ma seemed to be blind to it all. She prattled on and on about how Sylvia would now have a chance to meet rich, eligible young men because of Neeley’s social connections. Elmer Neeley himself said Sylvia was too young to be courted yet and wouldn’t allow boys to call on her. After all, he said, she was a mere schoolgirl.
He began to spy on her when she changed clothes or took a bath. In spite of everything she could do, she never knew when she would look up suddenly and find her stepfather staring at her half-dressed or even naked state.
Finally one night, she awakened to find him in her bed, his hand tightly clasped over her mouth. I’ve waited a long time for this, you sweet blond bitch! I only married your mother to get you!
Elmer Neeley was a big
man and she was small. She fought him in vain. If he hadn’t had his hand over her mouth, she would have screamed from the pain and terror of his brutal assault, of his wet mouth all over her breasts and body.
She told no one. Who would believe her anyway? Probably not even Ma, who was deliriously happy with her new role as a respected member of small town society. Sylvia ran through all the possible people who might help her. There were none. As a shy, country-raised girl, she had no friends to confide in.
Elmer Neeley was a wealthy, respected pillar of virtue in the small Illinois community. She thought about the schoolmaster, the preacher, the police. She had a sinking feeling that no one would believe her and she would be ostracized, and hated, even by her own mother. Sylvia locked her door after that night. Elmer Neeley had a key made. She pulled furniture against the door before she went to bed. He was big enough to push it open anyway.
She hated and feared the darkness because she knew that often, while her mother snored loudly down the hall, her stepfather would come to her room. He told her again and again that it was her fault for luring him with her ripe young body. He laughed that if she told, no one would believe her and that he would see that she was sent to one of those terrible places for wayward girls or an insane asylum. He was a rich, respected businessman and no one would believe a stupid little schoolgirl.
Weeks turned into months while she tried to think of what to do. In desperation, she decided there was no alternative but to run away. She had no money and no destination in mind—she only wanted to escape from her stepfather’s lust. There were no friends or family anywhere she could turn to.
Meanwhile she came to fear the darkness—the endless nights of terror and pain. Sylvia often prayed that her mother would awaken suddenly, come in, and discover her husband in her daughter’s bed. Not that it would do any good. She had a feeling Neeley would say the beautiful Jezebel of a daughter had seduced him in spite of his noble, fatherly intentions. Rather than face the terrible truth, Ma would turn on her child in a jealous rage and drive her out of the house.
And that’s exactly how it finally happened. Sylvia fled into the night with nothing more than the clothes she grabbed off a chair. She hitched a ride on a hay wagon into Chicago and found herself out of the frying pan and into the fire. Little Sylvia Hanssen soon discovered that Chicago was no place for a pretty blond girl with no money and no friends. It was Sodom and Gomorrah all over again. If it hadn’t been for Al . . .
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