She sucked in her breath as the words hit her deep down and made her quiver. “Get out or I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Go running to the man who isn’t really your cousin at all? He knows all your deepest, darkest secrets, doesn’t he? I bet he knows you in all sorts of ways.”
She slapped him. He clamped his hand on her wrist, so she couldn’t strike again. His touch seared her to the core.
“How dare you?”
“How dare I what? Pay attention to what my eyes and ears tell me?” He let her go but continued to stare her down like she was a criminal trying to lie her way out of trouble.
“Get out of here.” She turned away, stalked down the brickwork path, and silently ordered herself to fight the feelings he roused.
“I can’t help but wonder, Vivienne, how dare you treat your own mother like nothing but the nigger help?”
She stopped, every muscle tensing with the numbing dread that crept up her spine.
“I knew you were a cold bitch, as most passing house slaves are, but to watch the hurt in her eyes as you play the proper white lady ‘bout made me want to vomit up that fine meal.”
She flew at him, slapped and punched until he grabbed her wrists and pulled her close.
“I know who you are inside and out, Vivienne. You know damn well you need a man who will accept you, past, present, and future.”
“You don’t know anything about me. You will keep your lying mouth shut, or I swear to God I will tell Matt Logan you tried to rape me and that I want you dead.”
“What’s going on, mi amor?”
Vivienne pulled away and escaped to the familiar comfort of Peter’s side. “Nothing. Sheriff Avery had a bit too much to drink this evening and made a wrong turn.”
With a sneer, John disappeared into the darkness.
She shivered, and Peter drew her closer, led her back inside, and locked the door. He poured a glass of brandy, took a sip, and handed it to her. She gulped it, wishing it would do something, anything to ease the sickening chill in her bones.
“What happened out there?”
“Nothing. He was just trying to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Taking the empty glass from her hand, Peter set it aside and pulled her into an embrace. He rubbed his cheek against the top of her head and stroked her back. “Then forget about him and come upstairs with me.”
“Did you mean it?” She looked up, searching for the truth in Peter’s soulful brown eyes. She caressed his swarthy cheek. “Did you really mean it when you said you wanted me back?”
“I’ve wanted you from the day I saw you on that auction block.”
The ugly truth pricked her heart, but she bit it back. “Will you take me away from here? Can we go to San Francisco or Europe?”
“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”
“What about Mamma?”
“Of course.”
***
“Sheriff. Sheriff Avery.”
John startled awake, nearly toppling out of his desk chair. He stood and massaged his aching back. He stared past the petite woman in the door and glanced down at his pocket watch. It was just going on six. “Good morning, Miss Ella. What can I do for you?”
She looked over her shoulder then stepped inside and closed the jailhouse door. She came up to the desk, her expression somber, her dark eyes fixed squarely on him. Her tone was soft, but her words were no less tense. “I heard you last night. Vivienne insisted Myra, Hank, and I stay over. I don’t appreciate you talking to her that way. She has never treated me with any less respect than I hope you show to your own mother. “
“Ma’am—”
She held up her hand. “I don’t want your excuses, and I don’t need your pity. You know how the world is. I won’t begrudge my child the chance to go anywhere she wants, be anything she chooses. If I need to step to the side until she finds her happiness, then so be it. With Peter back around, I don’t imagine she’ll be here much longer. I can’t say I ever entirely trusted that man, but he’s always done right by us, and it’s not my decision to make. And I hope you’ll mind your business in the future and let Vivienne do things her way.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Shaking his head after she left, John tried to stretch the kinks out of his back then headed over to the hotel to get a bath and breakfast. When he exited the hotel, a number of people were congregating in front of the various businesses, clinging close to the walls. Angry male voices drew his attention from the direction of Miz LeMaster’s shop where Cody and his youngest brother were having it out in a mix of English and Shoshone. A couple of the warriors accompanying White Bear threw their comments into the fray.
“Uncle has always been a friend to the whites. What better way to stop Logan in his murdering tracks than to prove it?”
“We are not puppets to entertain your white friends, Blackheart. They are not welcome in my camp.”
“It’s not your camp, brother. Uncle Cougar makes the final decision, and I know he’ll side with Bennett and me.”
White Bear pulled his knife. Cody made no move for his own and didn’t so much as flinch when his brother nicked the side of his neck and sneered.
“They are not welcome.”
With that, White Bear mounted his horse, and he and his party raced out of town, whooping and brandishing their weapons.
John approached Cody, who was heading back into the dress shop. “What was that about?”
“Bear thinks it’s demeaning to have the hunt tomorrow. Doesn’t matter. He’s all teeth no bite, and I have better things to do.”
“Do tell.”
Cody grinned. “A gentleman never kisses and tells, but you want to keep that suit pressed to stand up for me at my wedding.”
“Well damn, son. Ain’t this a surprise.”
“Yeah it is, but it’s a good one.”
Once Cody entered Kate’s place, John took a roundabout route back toward the jail, listening in on the low rumble of conversation that got louder as he neared the newspaper office where Matt Logan’s personal reporter was holding court and taking down the details of what he’d missed. The details were highly exaggerated in his point of view, and he hoped to hell people didn’t take as gospel whatever lurid headline the fool came up with.
***
“You cannot do this thing! I won’t allow it, Blackheart!”
“Ina, it’s not your decision to make. I love Kate. I’ll marry her with or without your approval.”
Watching his mother sink to her knees in tears inside the small lodge tore at Cody’s heart, and he couldn’t quite dismiss the flicker of fear knowing why she’d reacted this way.
He knelt down in front of his mother, cradled her in his arms, and stroked her back. “I respect the words of the elders, but the moment of my greatest happiness was last night when Kate accepted my proposal. The moment passed, and I’m still alive. Please don’t worry about things that won’t happen.”
His mother cried harder.
“Ina, it will be fine. Don’t you see that this is fulfilling the real meaning of Grandfather’s vision? My marrying Kate and helping to bring the railroad here is the way to unite the two worlds we live in.”
She pulled back and looked up at him with teary eyes. “I’m afraid for you.”
Cody wiped her tears away. “Don’t be. This is what I want. Kate will make you a fine daughter, and she’ll give you more strong grandsons than you’ll have time to chase after.”
She touched her hand to his cheek. “But the vision.”
“I’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
Chapter Twelve
The excursion to the Shoshone encampment followed a sunrise breakfast. Apart from Cody and his family, Kate was certain she and Jamie were the only ones fully awake. Bleary eyed and dour-faced, the Washington people barely noticed the beauty of the landscape around them while Mr. Medina only had eyes for Vivienne.
That situation was quite puzzling. When he’d arriv
ed the other day, her friend had been standoffish toward him. But this morning, she’d literally clung to him when they’d arrived at her house for breakfast. Even now as he rode a horse behind Cody and his family, and Sheriff Avery, Vivienne constantly sought Medina’s gaze to the point he fell back, pulling his horse alongside the buggy she and Vivienne rode in with the Washingtonians.
Perhaps they’d have a chance to talk soon, and she could find out what was bothering her friend.
Kate wasn’t sure what she’d expected with her first visit to an Indian village. She only hoped she caused no offense when they arrived and her own curiosity mimicked her son’s. They looked everywhere, trying to take in all the new the sights, sounds, and smells while the Washington ladies huddled together with their husbands, their gazes darting to and fro as if they expected to be massacred at any moment.
Biting her lower lip, Kate pushed aside the annoyance that tried to bubble over into anger. It was because of women like this that she’d fled the East with Jamie. Then again, if it hadn’t been for such narrow-mindedness, she wouldn’t have found a man like Cody. Glancing around, she sought him out, her smile fading when she noticed the firm set of his jaw and the tension in his posture as he and Bennett spoke with an older Shoshone man she assumed was the band’s chief, Uncle Cougar.
She knew something was wrong despite the pleasant expression Cody forced as the trio approached.
Uncle Cougar greeted them in well-spoken English that clearly surprised the political wives. Bennett explained that the hunting party would be smaller than they’d expected but assured the men they would have an experience to remember.
Kate wasn’t sure she wanted to remember the experience, at least not the experience of the continued disdain shown by the society women as Cody’s sister and mother entertained them while the men were out hunting. Sarah and Sha-ko-ka went out of their way to be welcoming and try to impart a sense of their culture. If those foolish old biddies from back East wanted to put themselves above the Indian women, then so be it.
Although she knew Cody was Mandan by birth, she did all she could to observe and be friendly and respectful to the villagers she met. Even so, she caught more than one scornful look directed her way, by the single Shoshone women who must have had designs on the handsome Indian as husband material.
***
Bennett nodded in the direction of their guests, who were smoking cigars and reliving the hunt’s glory moments “I told you we’d work it out and put together enough of a hunting party to get the job done and make the city boys happy.”
“I suppose. Still, I wanted them to see our people aren’t an overt threat. That we can handle guns alongside them and not get crazy the way the scandal sheets tell it.”
“They saw it.”
Cody shrugged. “Maybe. But seeing how ‘civilized’ the hotheaded young warriors can be is better than seeing how a few elders behave.”
“Faith, big brother. We’d better get them moving so we can get back and let the ladies start cooking. And get home before nightfall.”
***
John cursed himself six ways to Sunday for being such a hothead with Vivienne. All he’d wanted to do was show her what a damn fool she was, thinking she could hide who she was inside. All he’d ended up doing was pushing her right toward the only one to know her past. And there was no way in hell Medina didn’t know her secret. Hell, since she sported the man’s name, she’d probably been owned by one of his relatives. It was common enough to take a master’s surname, especially if they were a bastard child.
And while it was possible they were half siblings, it was far more likely the two of them shared no blood. But they sure as hell had shared a bed at some point—that was plainer than day by the way Medina broke propriety and gave Vivienne those little touches and glances while they ate. Those simple gestures had spoken volumes and made him want to explode with jealousy.
Getting up for another helping of food, John found a place closer to the pair and, in doing so, lost his appetite.
“I’ve seen enough of Freewill to know where I plan to invest a great deal, Senator White. My cousin and I will be setting off for a bit of a Grand Tour soon, but I have a few men I trust to see to my interests here and keep an eye on things in Vivienne’s stead.”
She glanced his way, the expression in her eyes both wary and triumphant. He wanted to pull her aside to do something, anything, but Miz LeMaster spoke up, and John let common sense override the frustration within him.
“You’ll stay long enough to be my maid of honor, won’t you?”
Vivienne’s smile seemed forced. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
She looked his way again, and John knew it was a challenge not to spoil his best friend’s special day by revealing what she’d painstakingly hidden until now. He got up and walked away.
Using the excuse that he wanted to check up on the man he’d deputized for the day, he left the Indian encampment at a brisk pace.
He was about an hour outside of town, the Gaines ranch on the horizon, when a rider appeared, trailing a cloud of dust like the Devil was nipping at his heels.
It was Virgil, one of the hands at the livery stable. Wild eyes stared from his bruised and dirt-streaked face. Brownish stains of dried blood marked his clothing. “Sheriff, thank God. Indians attacked the town, shot up the hotel, killed a bunch of whores at Miss Belle’s, an’ burned the place down. They tried to get Miss Vivienne’s house, but me an’ a couple others drove ‘em off.”
“Indians? From where?”
Virgil shook his head. “I dunno. They didn’t look like none I ever saw. Somethin’ was wrong, but I dunno. It all happened so fast.”
“Think you can make it to the Gaines place?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“You tell Alton’s foreman I sent you. Tell him to get word to Cody and Alton at the Shoshone camp. I’ll head to town.”
***
“Sweet Jesus,” John muttered at the sight of the smoke coiling up above the building roofs. He pushed his mount harder and tried not to remember the similar sights during the war. The smell of charred wood blew over him, carrying with it the unmistakable tinge of burnt horseflesh from the ruins of the livery and hotel.
Men and boys ran about dousing flying embers with buckets and soaked rags. Women and girls helped the wounded to and from the church where others were acting as nurses to a doctor he recognized as one from the mine.
Tethering his horse close to the jail, John headed toward the church, helping where he could, questioning those he could find who’d seen the commotion. He approached Belle Porter, who wandered back and forth in front of her smoldering building, her gaze fixed upon the sheet-draped bodies lying on the ground.
Taking hold of her hand, he wiped his thumbs over the lines of dried blood trailing down her shoulder and upper arm from a small wound on her head. “Let me get you out of here.”
She looked at him, her eyes bleary and haunted like so many he’d seen during the war, civilian and soldier alike. “It happened so fast. We were still sleeping. Then the screaming woke me.”
“Did you see who it was?”
She closed her eyes as if trying to remember but shook her head. “It happened so damn fast. I saw buckskin and beads. Rough hands grabbing. They hit me. Next thing, I was being pulled out, choking on the smoke….”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and coaxed her to leave the scene. He took her to the church, turned her over to the reverend’s wife, and made rounds to question anyone he could find. Cody and Bennett made it back first.
“Alton’s putting the Washington folks up at his place,” Bennett said. “We didn’t know if Viv’s house was still standing.”
John nodded. “Most of the windows were shot out, that fence of hers torn down, and the garden trampled, but the house is okay. So is her—Miss Ella, Myra, and Hank.”
“Sheriff Avery!”
They all turned at the sound of the excited voice and watched t
he newspaperman approach. Like many others who’d done what they could to help, he was dirt streaked and soot covered.
“I found something out behind the whorehouse.” He averted his gaze from Bennett and Cody and shifted his position so John had to angle away from them to face him. He pulled a feather from inside his shirt and handed it over. “I guess one of the…raiders dropped it.”
Cody swore under his breath. Both John and Bennett stared at the feather. A bluer gray, rounded at the end, and banded with black—the tail feather of a hawk, a companion to the feather his Indian friend wore in his hair.
“Our brother didn’t do this,” Bennett said softly.
“But he said he would, didn’t he? Half the town heard him that morning—” A scathing look from Cody silenced the newsman.
“I’ll investigate this, find out if there are any witness outside town.” John faced his old friends. “We’ll find out who’s responsible.”
The newsman cleared his throat. “I should wire the Army.”
John frowned. This one was eager to start a war, but then again, he was in Matt Logan’s pocket. “If that becomes necessary, I’ll be the one to do it. Now, kindly go on about your business.”
When the man finally left, John addressed his friends. “I’m going to have a look around the places that were hit, see what I can find. It looks like a couple of Miz LeMaster’s windows got broken, so you might want to board them up for her.”
“Fuck the windows,” Cody grumbled. “I’m looking for White Bear.”
Bennett ran his hand through his hair. “I’ll see to the shop then I’ll head out, too. I’m sure he didn’t do this, but we need to find him before the shock wears off and the mob mentality sets in. If a white posse finds him first, Bear and his boys will fight back, and then we will have a war on our hands.”
John nodded and clapped Bennett on the shoulder.
Chapter Thirteen
Dreams, Deceptions and Desires Page 10