“She’ll have to double up with one of us. I’ll send someone for the luggage and that crate. Damn, she’s hauling a lot of stuff.”
John managed a weak smile and took the baby from the woman.
Cody stepped forward and gently touched the Mrs. LeMaster’s shoulder. “I’ll help you mount up—”
She jumped up, frantically rubbing her shoulder. “Don’t touch me!”
“Good heavens, Cody. The poor thing’s frazzled half out of her wits. Don’t scare her by laying those big paws on her!” Vivienne called as her wagon lurched to a halt. “You two load her stuff on here.” She jumped down from the wagon and approached the frightened woman. She was young, hardly more than a girl, but her pale eyes were weary with unspoken troubles befitting a woman twice her age. “My name is Vivienne Medina. I run the hotel. Let me help you into the wagon, and we’ll get you and your baby a place to rest and relax in no time.”
She addressed the men again. “You two load her things in the wagon then go on ahead. Tell Annie to get a hot bath and a good meal ready.” Her attention remained on Cody and his broad-shouldered friend until they disappeared around a bend. She started after them at a slower pace, allowing her companion to settle back and put her son to her breast. “No wonder the poor thing was cranky. He was hungry.”
“I tried to feed him, but the way those men stared….” The woman shuddered
“Well, no one will bother you again,” Vivienne assured her. “What’s his name?”
“James…Jamie. I’m Kate. Kate LeMaster.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kate. I only have two other guests at the moment, so you’ll have your choice of rooms.”
“Something small, I think. I don’t have much money.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Vivienne said. “I’m sure we can work something out.”
“Thank you.” After Jamie began to doze, Kate shifted her hold, buttoned her bodice, and closed her own eyes.
Vivienne cast a glance at the infant sleeping peacefully in his mother’s arms. She refused to acknowledge the twinge of maternal longing the scene stirred within her. As a girl in Louisiana, she’d had to assist her mother in caring for the plantation master’s young children—her own half brothers and sisters. They’d loved her and she’d loved them back, but once out of the third floor nursery, they were complete strangers. Their every whim had been granted while her own father demanded gratitude for giving her and her mother the position of house slaves, thus sparing them from the backbreaking field labor.
A series of deep cleansing breaths helped Vivienne discard her melancholy, and she banished the memories from her mind for the remainder of the journey back to town.
By the time they arrived at the hotel, night was closing in. After seeing that Kate and Jamie were properly fed and settled in, she went downstairs, intending to take a dinner tray to her office so she could go over the week’s accounts. Cody and his friend were in the dining room, finishing their supper. Vivienne casually studied John Avery. He had an air of authority about him, enhanced by the faint age lines creasing his brown skin. To her chagrin, she found herself attracted to his brilliant smile and the vital power she sensed within him. She forced her attention away from his handsome face. When Cody introduced them, she made certain she didn’t clasp his large, powerful hand any longer than necessary.
“How are Mrs. LeMaster and little Jamie, ma’am?”
“They’re fine. I daresay they’ll be much better once they’ve gotten a decent night’s rest.” Her pulse quickened when John’s mouth lifted in a slow smile. She was glad when Cody’s muttering tore her attention away. “What?”
He dismissed his unintelligible remarks with a wave of his hand. “It was a good meal, Viv. If we weren’t partners, I’d leave you a tip.” He ducked her playful slap and stood. “C’mon, John. We’d better get over to Belle’s before you get too sleepy.”
“If what you say about Miss Belle is true, I think I’ll be awake all night.”
Cody’s following remark, though in Shoshone, sounded rather obscene to Vivienne. She bristled as the men left the dining room then wondered why the thought of John Avery in the town bordello was as irritating to her as a burr under a horse’s saddle.
***
John and Cody sat comfortably in the gaudy parlor of Belle Porter’s house, listening to one of her girls sing a medley of risqué songs when the madam sashayed into the room, surveying it quickly as though to gauge the night’s profits.
The sight of Belle made John realize just how long it had been since he’d enjoyed the company of a woman. Her cinnamon-skinned body was lush and enticing beneath the form-fitting, ecru satin gown. The exceptionally low cut bodice showcased what were undoubtedly her best features. As a gentleman and soldier, John wanted to stand in a woman’s presence, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not with his body responding so noticeably to the comely madam.
“Don’t rush to your feet on my account, gentlemen,” Belle drawled in a husky voice before perching on John’s lap, placing him in close proximity to the ample bosom he’d been admiring. Belle ran her index finger along his shoulder. “And you must be our new sheriff. Cody’s told me a lot about you, Mr. Avery.”
“Not too much, I hope,” he teased back.
She laughed, but he noticed that the merriment failed to travel up into her dark eyes, eyes which seemed so much older than she probably was. She must have been born into slavery as he had. He knew only too well how forced servitude aged a person beyond their years. He realized she’d asked him a question and was awaiting his answer.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t quite hear you.”
She laughed again, twining her arms around his neck. “Ma’am? I’ve been called many things, but rarely ma’am.” She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, her bosom pressing against his arm. “You really should leave your manners at the door when you come here.”
“I’ll try to remember that, ma— Miss Belle.”
She stood, and looked down at him through the heavy fringe of her lashes. “I can’t wait to see if you’re this polite in private,” she said in a silky tone as she sat down on Cody’s lap. “Why so glum, darlin’? Matt Logan nipping at your heels like the cur he is?”
“When isn’t he?” He gave her a suspicious look. “You still catering to his young tastes?”
“I cater to anything men are willing to pay for,” she said simply. “Age has nothing to do with it.”
“Maybe it should.”
“Not to me,” Belle answered flatly and got up. She signaled for one of her girls to bring another bottle of liquor. “Have another drink, gentlemen, and we’ll see that Mr. Avery is properly welcomed to Freewill.”
***
John and Cody were alone in the brothel’s dining room the following morning. Savoring his third helping of crisp bacon, John surveyed the opulent room, unconsciously comparing it to the understated elegance of the Hotel Freewill’s dining room. Still, for a whorehouse it was pretty classy, and he wondered how much Miss Belle would charge for his “welcome.” He was about to ask when he noticed that Cody had barely touched his own meal.
How odd. The Cody Blackheart he knew could eat anytime, anywhere like a famished horse and then go back for more. “What’s the matter, kola?” he asked, using the Shoshone word for friend. “You having second thoughts about offering me the job?”
“No,” Cody said, looking up from his cup of coffee. His eyes had a strange faraway look. “The job is yours for as long as you want it.”
Although curious, John did not prod, knowing that his friend would speak when ready. He finished his breakfast and waited. Finally, Cody pushed away his untouched meal, brushing back the strands of white hair that perpetually fell into his face. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him.
“It’s that damned woman who was put off the stage with you. When I saw her about ready to bawl like the baby she was holding, I felt…something…but the way she tur
ned on me….” He got up and walked over to the large low window, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his black trousers. He stared at nothing in particular as if trying to put his feelings into words. “I’ve been looked down on by whites before, but to have her—with a half blood baby—act like I was a bug that needed squashing was….” He muttered something in his mother’s Mandan tongue and shook his head. “It pains me but I don’t know why,” he whispered.
John remembered the expression on Kate LeMaster’s face. He’d come up against his share of prejudice in his twenty-nine years, but the young widow’s reaction had been a surprise to him, as well, considering how polite she’d been to him. He paraphrased Vivienne Medina’s observation. “Maybe she was just frazzled. She came a long way, and those two cowboys were pretty rough on her.” He suppressed his amusement when Cody muttered something about having more sense than to be hurt by a woman’s wicked tongue. If he didn’t know better, he might think his solitary friend was smitten.
Again John thought of Vivienne Medina and wondered if the interest he’d glimpsed yesterday was real or if he’d imagined it. Not that it really mattered. They were as different as different could be. But for the life of him, he couldn’t help but be attracted after that brief introduction. Like Cody with Kate, he’d felt something he couldn’t define, sensed there was more to the imperious beauty than met the eye.
He poured himself another cup of coffee, deciding to take his time and get to know all there was about Freewill and its inhabitants.
Chapter Three
“Come in,” Kate said in answer to the knock on the hotel room door.
“Good morning,” Vivienne said brightly, setting a silver tray on the nightstand. “You had a good night’s sleep?”
“Yes, thank you. I haven’t slept like that since…in a long time.” She looked over at Jamie, nestled next to her. “I don’t think he’s ever slept this well either.”
The hotel owner removed the covers from the dishes containing toast, eggs, and sausage. She handed a plate to Kate and took one for herself, pulling one of the walnut side chairs closer to the bed. “I hope you don’t mind my joining you. I can’t hear myself think at my house. I have carpenters working around the clock to finish it by next week.”
She spread orange marmalade on a slice of toast. “If your house is half as nice as your hotel, it will be a sight to see.”
“It had better be considering how much it’s costing,” Vivienne said lightly. “What brings you to Freewill?”
Kate gave her the answer she’d fabricated on the train from Albany. “I wanted to join relatives in San Francisco, but the sale of my business didn’t go as I’d planned. I thought I might be able to set up shop here and perhaps move on eventually.”
Vivienne poured two cups of tea. “Your business is?”
“Dressmaking. I do a bit of tailoring for men as well.”
She stopped stirring sugar into her tea. “Are you serious?”
Kate nodded.
“Thank you,” Vivienne said to the sky then turned back to her. “I know it’s short notice, but could you make me a gown by a month from next Thursday?”
“If you choose one of the fabrics I brought, I can. I have the latest style books from Paris and a few sketches of my own in one of my trunks.”
Relief washed over Vivienne’s honey beige face. “I had a dress sent from my old seamstress in Washington, but there was a mix-up, and she sent one that’s all wrong in size and color. I wired her, but the dress I ordered will never get here by the time I need it.”
Jamie woke, and after changing his diaper and nursing him, Kate fed him bits of toast and egg.
Setting aside her breakfast plate, Vivienne stood. “I have a few things to catch up on in my office. My porter put your things in the sitting room next door. Is that all right?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Vivienne smiled. “Wonderful. I’ll be up in an hour to look at your pattern books.”
She was confident she could work out an arrangement to exchange the cost of Vivienne’s gown for her and Jamie’s room and board, at least temporarily. She kissed the top of her son’s head. “Moving West was a good idea after all.”
The conviction in her words didn’t quite reach through to her bones. The image of Sheriff Avery’s friend appeared in her mind’s eye. Not only was he handsome, his presence was even more forceful than that of Jamie’s father. She’d need to make a decided effort not to let foolish infatuations best her judgment again.
***
Vivienne arrived as promised to look at the fabrics Kate had brought with her. She opened the first trunk and her newfound peace vanished at the sight of the fur pelts peeking out.
“Are you all right?” Vivienne asked.
“I’m fine. It’s…Jamie’s father brought those furs from Canada….”
Vivienne lowered the lid. “We won’t need to look in there then.”
Kate turned to the valise containing her fashion plates and sketches, spreading a half dozen on the large round table near the window. “I think these would best suit your figure.”
She examined them briefly. “They’re all very nice but I’d like something unique. I’ll be helping Cody and his brother entertain a number of senators and railroad representatives. Their wives are certain to have something similar to these.”
“How about this?” Kate asked hesitantly, producing one of her own designs. She’d never sold any of her creations, but then, she’d never really promoted her design talents.
“That point lace overskirt is exactly what I mean about different.” Vivienne rushed across the room and held up the lace and a bolt of coral grosgrain silk. The delicate pattern of the lace was a wonderful contrast to the ribbed texture of the fabric. “These are what you had in mind?”
“Exactly.” Kate lifted Jamie, who was pulling on her hem, and took out a similar bolt of silk in a slightly darker tint of pink. “This might suit your coloring a little better.”
Vivienne looked at the reflection in the mantle mirror and smiled. The darker silk made her complexion appear lighter. “How soon can you start?”
“As soon as I get your measurements. Would it be all right to work in here?”
“The rooms are yours as long as you need them. Let me get one of my kitchen girls to occupy Jamie, and we can get started.”
John Avery was on his way upstairs when Vivienne nearly bowled him over. “Whoa, girl!” Wrapping one arm around her, he reached back and gripped the railing to keep them both from tumbling headfirst down the stairs. He took two steps to the side then let her go. “Where’re you off to in such a hurry?”
“Nowhere,” she said.
Get a hold of yourself! she told herself again and again once she’d reached the lobby. She inhaled deeply to steady her nerves, unable to fathom her own peculiar behavior. Bumping into Cody’s friend had been accidental, his grabbing of her reflexive, so why had the press of his lean body sent her heart into palpitations?
Dismissing the obvious answer, she wiped the incident from her mind and went to fetch someone to keep watch over Kate’s son.
***
Cody unloaded the newly milled lumber from the back of the buckboard, rehearsing what he planned to say to the bigwigs his brother was bringing from Washington. He found himself cursing under his breath with every other word. True, it had been his idea to lobby for the railroad line from Cheyenne to stop at Freewill, but he was no talker. Bennett was the one used to dealing with the political types. He knew exactly who liked to hear what, and he had the social poise to say it to maximum effect.
“But you’re the attraction, big brother. You’re the war hero, the thoroughly civilized full blood Indian who validates their plans of assimilation and westward expansion. If you present yourself the way they want you to, everybody will prosper. You’ll stop the bloodshed before it gets worse.”
Stop the bloodshed.
That was what he really wanted, although he certainly wouldn’t
turn away the wealth the town’s expansion would bring. The satisfaction of putting Matt Logan out of the transportation business spoke for itself, but if he could keep his people from being slaughtered, the sacrifice of giving up part of their land would be worth it. He’d fulfill the vision of his Mandan grandfather.
A child will be born to my son,
a warrior who will save lives by walking two roads at once.
By learning the ways of many fathers, he will make
a safe place for the people.
Cody set the last board on the pile and wiped the sweat from his brow with a swipe of his hand. He was in no hurry to fulfill the second part of his grandfather’s vision, the part that foretold his untimely death at the moment of his greatest happiness.
“When you asked if I wanted to be Freewill’s sheriff,” John said, “you might have mentioned that the honor included building the town’s first jail.”
“And spoil the surprise?” Cody pushed back the hair that had tumbled into his face.
Laughing, John looked over the simple plans laid out on a makeshift table. “You met her in Washington, huh?”
He paused, his hammer poised to the strike the nail below him. “You talking about Viv?”
John nodded.
He pounded the nail into place. “She was volunteering at the hospital where they sent me after they patched me up in the field. The doctor wanted to take my leg, but Vivienne had heard of some new remedy and kept putting me at the end of the surgery line while she tried her ‘water treatment.’ By the time the doctor got around to me, my leg was starting to heal on its own.”
John was pleasantly surprised. Vivienne Medina was the last person he would picture dirtying her hands with soldiers’ blood, Indian blood at that. “I am impressed.”
“You see that woman today? The one from the stagecoach?” Cody asked during the next lull.
Dreams, Deceptions and Desires Page 3