Enchanted Heart

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Enchanted Heart Page 12

by Brianna Lee McKenzie


  She was the water that quenched his thirst, the bread that filled his hungry heart and the vital air that breathed life into him from the very moment that he had seen her standing amongst her students that day almost a month ago when he had found his way into New Braunfels, the day that he had decided that all that was left for him to do was to go back home and die a lonely death of bored luxury. But his past had melted away like a fleeting springtime snowfall when he’d seen a brighter future in her smiling face.

  He had done it all, seen it all and had experienced it all. All but love, which he had decided would never find him until he’d seen her flying auburn curls and her adoring smile as she gathered the children from the school yard and then ushered them inside, looking back to make sure that they all were accounted for. Oh, how he’d wished that her eyes had seen him watching her in the shadows of the blacksmith’s shop, but they never caught a glimpse of him. And when she had waved toward him, he had waved back, elated that she had finally seen him. But, his heart had fallen when the man next to him had called to her and had returned her wave.

  But he had taken that opportunity to ask the man who that lovely woman was, hoping that she was not his wife and that the blacksmith would offer to introduce him to her. He’d learned that the teacher was that man’s daughter and had been given a stern warning that he would protect her from the stranger who’d inquired about her. And Caid had kept his distance out of respect for the burly blacksmith and for the beauty that was his daughter until he had learned that the teacher was moving west and her party needed a guide to take them there.

  How his heart had danced when he had sat behind a table on the porch of the general store and had handed the ledger and pen to each of the heads of households that intended to sign up for the journey. He had waited, almost too impatiently, for the woman in question to make her appearance in order to enter her signature and to drop her velvet bag of coins into his metal box. And when their eyes had met, when they had touched briefly, he knew by her startled expression and her subsequent quick departure that their encounter had prompted her to sing a silent song of elation as much as it had stimulated him to do the same.

  Yep, he would have brought them here for free if he’d have believed that it wouldn’t look suspicious. So, he’d taken her money, just like he’d accepted the payment from the other four families and he’d marched the box right over to the school building and had donated it with a sincere smile and a hope that it would be put to good use. Then, he’d waited the week of endlessness while they had all filled their wagons with the things that they just could not live without and on that first day of their journey, he’d caught her eye and he knew that this trip would be a journey to remember.

  Now, in the shadows of a distant wagon, Caid sucked in a breath of life-giving air and kicked his booted foot at the stick that he had been leaning upon before he took one last look at the woman who had taken his breath away and continued to do so in every exasperating motion that she took, every blue-eyed glance that she gave him and in every sigh of contentment that he coaxed out of her. Then, he disappeared into the darkness to let his unconscious mind take over and continue the dishonorable thoughts that he had conjured up.

  Marty hugged herself, feeling the emptiness that his departure had caused in her very soul. The cold night air abated the warmth that he had taken with him when he had disappeared from the circle of the firelight. For long moments, she gazed at the flames that licked at the night sky, reliving the rapture of their union and ignoring the astonished, glaring stare from the pious Mrs. Bader. Her eyes danced their merriment at the recollection of his kiss and her heart fluttered uncontrollably against her bosom while she wished that his hard chest was pressed there in a passion that would most certainly cause the old woman to swoon in mortification. Then, she politely excused herself to go to bed where she could dream about it in peace and fantasize about a time when she could realize just how wonderful paradise would be with Aiden Kincaid McAllister.

  As she passed a wagon that stood across the meadow from hers, a lonesome transport that had been left in the darkness when its inhabitants had gone to mingle with the other families, Marty thought she saw a shadow standing beside it. She could make out the features of a man who leaned upon a stick, his large hand dangling leisurely in the air. While she eased herself into the shadows of her own wagon, she watched with growing intrigue as the dark figure leaned forward as if he had seen her watching him. She sucked in a breath and ducked farther into the darkness, but then peered out to see if he would leave his shadowy sanctuary and come toward her to admonish her for scrutinizing him.

  He still leaned forward, his head illuminated by the moonlight. The man tilted that head, causing the moon’s rays to reveal his face slightly. In an instant, she recognized those cheekbones, the angled jaw line, those wispy black curls that danced in the darkness. And in that same instant, she found herself recalling a similar figure that she had seen one day while she had waved to Sven while he had stood in his blacksmith shop next to a figure of a man who had also waved to her. Suddenly aware of the memory of that man and the reaction that he had caused in her, Marty quickly retreated to her wagon to recall that day just before she had signed up to make this journey.

  She remembered it like it had happened just yesterday. She had stopped to talk to Sven and he had tried to talk her out of leaving her mother and taking her sister with her but she had reminded him of Papa’s dream and her promise to make it come to fruition. Of course, Sven had relented as he always had when Marty had argued with him, for he knew that she was steadfast in her convictions and no amount of words from him or anyone would change her mind. Then, he had hugged her and had told her that he loved her as if she were his very own daughter and she had said that she loved him too and then she had left him to go to school.

  Later, when she had let the younger children play outside while the older ones were taking a test, she had seen that indistinguishable figure talking to Sven. For some unknown reason, her heart had fluttered when both Sven and the man had waved to her—or had she waved first? She had seen the stranger tilt his head as her hand tilted back and forth in the morning air. Mesmerized by the angles of the stranger’s darkened features, she had seemed paralyzed by the sudden spark of interest that surged through her. Then, her hand had slowly fallen to her chest as if a great weight had been lifted and she had felt giddy and carefree, as if that simple gesture by some shadowy stranger could instantly heal her heart. Feeling ever so lightheaded, Marty had stumbled into the schoolhouse just as she now stumbled into her wagon to hide.

  Then, she suddenly recalled the day that she had signed the ledger on the general store’s porch and the visage of that same angled face in the shadow of the awning flashed into her mind. On that day, too, she was compelled to hide in the safety of her little house just a few blocks from Mama and Sven’s house. Right then, as well as both times that she had encountered him, Marty was not sure if she was hiding from Caid or from the panic—or was it excitement—of falling helplessly in love with him. What she was certain of, though, was that she had been changed that day in the schoolyard and then again on the porch of the general store where she had signed her allegiance to him and she realized that she was learning to love all over again with each moment that she spent with him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dreams, wonderful, blissful dreams slowly drifted to reality as the dawn burst into the enchantment of Marty’s delightful dilemma. She lay in her blankets pondering her problem while wishing that she could just close her eyes tightly and dive back into that heavenly vision that seemed so incredibly authentic, as if the scenes that played out in her drowsy mind were truly happening to her. In those dreams, she had tossed aside propriety, had ignored her fear of intimacy and the losses of love and had thrown herself wholeheartedly into Caid’s arms. But as morning cleared her delirious mind, a new quandary surfaced, filling her with a muddled jumble of questions, of uncertainties.

  What should
she do she asked herself as she slowly, almost reluctantly eased herself from her bed and dressed in warm attire. Should she continue allowing herself to fall in love with the man who took her breath away or should she stop it right then and there, ceasing her own need to drown herself in the depths of his deep blue eyes and to survive in the warmth of his strong and protective arms?

  Her answer came in the smile that greeted her at the morning campfire and the twinkling blue-eyed wink, which suggested that the same life-like dreams that she had experienced had come to him in his own imaginary trip to paradise and that he would, in no uncertain terms, try his devil-best to make them come true.

  It was decided in her heart, if not in her dutiful mind, that she would take that step into a territory where she had vowed never to set foot again. She would allow herself to break down that barrier between her heart and that which she so longed to possess. Love and all its glory would be the foundation for her ultimate survival and only one man could suffice as her savior.

  Caid wrapped her in his arms and sealed her fate in a heart-pounding kiss, sending her reeling once again into that realm of ecstasy where love abounds. Then, slowly releasing her so that she would not swirl into the dizzying depths of delight, he kept his arm around her shoulder while he whispered, “I have something to show you.”

  “What is it? Where are we going?” she asked with increasing enthusiasm as she let him take her by the hand and lead her toward two saddled horses.

  “You’ll see,” was all he would relinquish while ignoring her questioning glances and the repeated request for an explanation to his suspicious actions.

  “What about the wagon? Who will drive it for me? Who does this horse belong to?” she asked in one breath when they mounted and spurred the horses away from the camp where others were hitching their teams for the day’s journey.

  “That’s Daniel Bader’s horse and he’s driving your wagon for you,” Caid told her over his shoulder as he touched his heel to his mount’s side. “I think young Daniel offered to do it because he seems to have an eye for Greta.”

  “She’s too old for him,” Marty scoffed as she rode up beside Caid. “And she still loves Gunnar. I don’t think that she will ever love again.”

  “All will happen as it was meant to be,” Caid said, almost in a whisper as he spurred his mount into motion. Thrilled, Marty followed suit and off they went, galloping away, galloping toward a destination that only Caid was privy to.

  Her sister was forgotten, her wagon was forgotten as she rode that gelding far, far away from the wagon train, from Papa’s expectations, from Mrs. Bader’s squinty eyes. This was Marty’s opportunity to find peace in her surroundings, to find love in the arms of the man who offered her more than a promise of land for the taking, more than love just because it is available, more than life entitled by the gift of birth.

  Caid quickly looked back to see if she was following, but he knew in his heart that she was. He knew that she craved this distance away from the prying eyes of the others as much as he did. He felt that this was his opportunity to breach the invisible barrier between them. With no one to see them, to hear their conversation or to admonish them for their actions, he was free to do anything with her that his heart desired. But he was content just to have her all to himself, to ride beside her on a carefree journey to a marvelous destination that he knew would delight her.

  Hearing her say that her sister would never love again caused him to wonder if the same was true for Marty and he stopped his horse short, causing the animal to squeal its displeasure at the pain that the bit had inflicted upon its mouth. Caid wheeled the horse around to face her before he asked in earnest, “Will you?”

  Marty slowed her horse to stand next to his so that she could hear the question that he had posed. Then, trying not to blush or to look away from his intense stare, Marty shook the strands of hair from her shoulder and tilted her chin, then rolled her eyes to the sky and thought for moments too long for him to endure. She took up the reins and said as quickly as she could without stammering, “I have!”

  She spurred her horse away from him, realizing that he understood that she indicated that he was the object of her affection. With a shriek of excitement, she rode through the grove of oaks until it opened into a large, magnificent meadow that was intersected by a meandering river and then dominated by a huge mountainous rock.

  Caid kicked his mount forward upon hearing her words of affirmation that she had, indeed, let herself love him and he raced into the woods intent upon catching her to make her repeat them so that he could be sure that she had really uttered them. His heart kept time with the pounding of the stallion’s hooves while he dug his heels into its sides, urging it onward toward his love, his life.

  As she crossed the meadow that was covered with an ocean of blue flowers that were swaying in the breeze alongside the long green grass and orange tufts of petals, she was in awe of the beautiful scene. Pulling back on the reins, she sucked in a breath of admiration of the sight before her. Her eyes followed the green and blue and orange of the meadow, over the babbling stream to the giant gleaming rock that towered above her and her mouth gaped in a whispered, “Oh!”

  When Caid rode up next to her, he watched the shining radiance of wonder in her light blue eyes and on her peaches-and-cream face. It was all he could do to stay planted in that saddle and to keep from scooping her off of hers and onto the ground to fill her heart and soul with a different sort of enlightenment. Pausing for an instant while he took in her breathtaking beauty in the midst of the colors of the prairie that should have been wiped away by the winds of winter, he fought the urge to ease her down into those blissful colors and find a new bliss.

  Instead, he began explaining to her the names of the flowers that licked at their horses’ knees, “Those bluebonnets are special to the Comanche Indians.”

  Marty looked puzzled at him so she continued, “Long ago, there was a terrible drought and many of their people died. They prayed to the Great Spirits for rain but still none came. The chief told them to build a fire and that they all had to sacrifice something precious to them by throwing it into the flames. They all threw an object that they felt was important to them, but they still had something else to replace it. There was one little girl, whose family had died of hunger and who had nothing to sacrifice but the doll that her mother had made for her. But she took the doll that she had dressed in a bright blue dress and she threw it into the fire!”

  Caid’s hands shot up to the Heavens to emphasize his words. Then they spread out, his fingers dancing in the air as he continued, “At that moment, the rain came, filling the streams and rivers.”

  His hands waved over the blue ocean that surrounded them and he said with a marvelous undertone of whispered revelation, “And the next day, the fields were covered with bluebonnets as far as the eye could see. The Indians called it a sign from the spirits that they would never be hungry again.”

  Marty remembered all too well the pangs of hunger and the pain of losing her father. But Papa had sacrificed his own life so that his family could have a better one in the new land. She did not reveal this to Caid. Instead, she proclaimed, “What a beautiful story!” Then she asked with fascination, “How do you know such a tale?”

  Caid shifted in his saddle before he admitted, “I heard about it a few years ago while I was passing through here.” He ran his fingers through the black wavy curls of his hair before he pointed to the orange blossoms and told her, “Those are what the Indians call Prairie Fire, but we call them Indian Paintbrushes.”

  “Why?” Marty asked with a perplexed expression.

  “Because of the color, I suppose, is why the Indians call it Prairie Fire,” Caid said with a shrug. Then he continued, “Some Indians used them for painting, that’s where we get the name. You can actually eat the flower.”

  “You can?” Marty asked, leaning from her saddle to picked one and then she began to nibble on it. It was sweet and crunchy and quite delec
table.

  “Yep, the Indians eat it like we would use sugar but only in moderation,” Caid explained. “And only the flowers are edible. The roots and green parts can possibly kill you.”

  Hearing this, she immediately stopped short of eating the leaves and stem and tossed the half-eaten flower into the grass. Its sweetness was not worth getting sick over. She wiped her hands on her skirt and watched him stare at that giant gleaming rock while she listened to Caid tell her the history of it.

  “They call it Enchanted Rock. The Tonkawa Indians believed that ghost fires lived up there. At night, it howls and groans like tortured souls,” he said with great enthusiasm, drawing out the words to emphasize their significance.

  “There is a story that the Spanish tell about a Conquistador who was captured by the Tonkawa Indians, but he escaped into these rock formations. While he was lost in the rocks, he said that he communed with the spirits that lived there and when he came back out, it was as if he was transformed, and he desired only to be with those who communed with this great rock,” Caid said. Then he continued, “The Indians tell the same story as ‘the pale man who was swallowed up by the rock and was reborn as one of their own’. They say that he had enchanted the rock with his spiritual conviction but he insisted that the rock had, instead, enchanted him.”

  “I can see why he would believe that,” Marty agreed as she stared at the mesmerizing image before her.

  The huge pink rock that rose from the ground was at least four hundred feet tall and, as she followed its base with her eyes, she could see that it encompassed more than five hundred acres. Its glistening granite face beckoned her to come forth and lay her hand upon its fiery flesh, to press her body against its hard, inviting warmth. It called to her, promising everlasting relief of all of her suffering, her pain, her sorrow and, yes, her guilt for wanting to give herself to the man who had captured her heart. Her inhibitions seemed to melt into the steaming waves that danced upon the rose-colored rock that accepted them as her sacrifice to its inconceivable immensity, its awe-inspiring beauty.

 

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