A Leaf in the Wind

by Velda Sherrod

  Despite Juan's prediction of sunshine, the mist persisted, and T.K. cursed the wet, himself, and the general circumstances. He thought of his future wife. He had become so accustomed to seeing her in his house that he couldn't imagine her anywhere else. As he had done countless times in the past, he reminded himself that Patrick had probably fathered her child. He gave a harsh, disparaging sigh.

  Elise met the woman in the parlor. Vesper assured her that was the only way, if one didn't particularly care for somebody, especially a woman. ''Gives you a edge, bein' in your own parlor," Vesper had said. "Be sure to wear somethin' purty nice."

  There was no doubt Maggie noticed the well-appointed living room. Her eyes widened as they settled on the ornate kerosene lamps, the heavy damask draperies, and the big, overstuffed chairs. She gave a limp response when Elise extended her hand.

  "I'm pleased to be here. I told you before, T.K. is a very close friend of mine. I wouldn't miss his wedding for anything."

  "Yes, I believe you mentioned that," Elise murmured, "in Dusty Flats."

  Maggie preened, letting the lavender feather boa slide over her shoulders. "T.K. always visited me when he came to town. I could count on it."

  "How nice for you."

  "We usually had dinner together at the hotel. Sometimes we shared a bottle of wine in my apartment."

  Elise felt she watched a rehearsal, each calculated gesture, each tiny, breathy sigh, each carefully chosen word prepared ahead of time. Maggie Cook had come to visit out of malice. But why? Possessive of T.K.? Jealousy? Well, Maggie Cook had picked herself a worthy adversary.

  "I remember your apartment. I had come to Miss Bonnie's Boutique in Dusty Flats to be fitted for my wedding dress. You were expecting a visitor. He arrived while I was there." She ran her fingers over the back of her hair to smooth a curl. "If my memory serves me, we played a few hands of poker." She laughed suddenly at the memory. "That wily rogue won. I forget his name now. But he had the broadest shoulders.'' She held her hands wide apart, then moved them closer together. "And the narrowest hips." She laughed again. "And that ridiculous wager. I lost of course."

  Maggie narrowed her brows in an uneasy frown. "I have many friends."

  "I'm sure you do," Elise said cheerfully and changed the subject. "I do believe the sky's clearing. Happy the bride the sun shines on, as the old saying goes."

  The conversation lagged, and Elsie saw her visitor to the door, then gleefully lauded herself by brushing her palms together. Such incredible fun, as if by flummoxing Miss Cook she had somehow strengthened her own position.

  She continued to stand in the doorway, watching another wagon arrive. They kept rolling up like the faithful to a camp meeting. The sun cooperated by breaking through the clouds. All the activity was too much to cope with. She headed toward the kitchen for a cup of tea and some time with Vesper and Toddie.

  She had chosen Vesper for her matron of honor out of friendship. It was also an act of defiance, gossip for the people of Hy-Meadow. "Vesper, we'll have to find someone to take care of Toddie." She spooned peas into Toddie's mouth. "Any ideas?"

  "I got somebody. Rufus. He plumb like to do it. But are you sure 'bout me? I told you before, folks gonna talk."

  Elise shrugged. "Talk's cheap." They might have had more to talk about if she had ever been able to corner T.K. She had run out of time, and she was damned if she did and damned if she didn't. The tears were so close that, for a moment, she couldn't continue. "So let them talk. What can they say other than your skin's black and mine's white?"

  "Ten years since Lincoln freed us, so I think you just proved my point, but I'm honored anyway. Got myself a new dress. Rufus say it suits me right handsomely."

  "You've done so much."

  "Ain't often I get to be part of a weddin' other than washin' and cleanin'."

  Vesper was Elise's only female friend. Reflecting on it, Elise knew she shouldn't have been surprised at T.K.'s reaction. He had little use for bigotry. She had mentioned Vesper's participation in the wedding. "Do what you like," he had said and laughed. "Probably be some raised eyebrows."

  Elise set Toddie on the floor, her face a mask of introspection. Tortured nights and fearful days had brought her, at last, to her wedding day. Nothing remained but to go through with it. She glanced at Vesper.

  "Wanta read the tea leaves for me?"

  Without looking at the cup, Vesper answered. "Everything gonna turn out all right." She hesitated. "Prob'ly."

  Elise hadn't expected to see T.K. The day had turned cool and sunny, washed clean by the rain. She ventured out late in the afternoon and saw him from a distance. Shortly after she went back inside, a knock sounded on the door and she opened it.

  T.K. stood before her, his hat pulled low over his forehead. With a sinking feeling, she sensed his deep tension. She struggled for words, for breath, and out of the vacuum managed to say, "I didn't expect you."

  He placed a hand on the doorframe and looked down at her. His gaze, at once desperate and angry, skimmed her face. "You can back out, if you want to." His voice was low and raw. "There's still time."

  Something had happened. In that moment, she recognized that T.K. needed her. He had come to her a man needing his woman. It showed in the stance of his powerful body, in the torment that flickered in his eyes.

  "Are you asking for yourself?."

  He shook his head. "Hell, no." His eyes, dark and probing, fixed on her for several seconds. "Just giving you an out if you want it."

  Elise's palms grew clammy, and she lowered her gaze to his shirtfront. "There are things we need to talk about."

  "I needed reassurance that at the last minute you wouldn't change your mind. Anything else can wait for another time."

  Wanting to bury her face against his chest and cry, she could hardly speak around the lump in her throat. "Don't do this to me."

  "Do what?"

  "Oh" she turned her face away from his hand "make me wonder if, after all, the marriage is a mistake."

  "You agreed for Toddie's sake. Right?"

  She nodded. "And you?"

  "For Toddie." Then he swore beneath his breath, something unintelligible, his voice filled with torment. "But I warned you in the beginning. When we marry, I want a wife in my bed preferably a willing one."

  He slid his mouth over hers, down her throat, and back up again. His breath grew ragged. "I want you. You're fire in my veins." When the kiss ended, he held her away so their bodies didn't touch. "Now hustle, love. You're getting married in a few hours."

  The door closed softly behind him. He had called her "love."

  "T.K.," she whispered brokenly.

  In the time before the ceremony, Elise washed her hair and dried it. Then Vesper fashioned it high into curls and laced ivory ribbons through it, forming a bow at the top of her head. Her dress, cut low across the bosom, hugged her waistline and flared over her hips.

  Not the traditional white, the bridal gown proclaimed her less than virginal, a fact that would no doubt be discussed again and again by the people from Hy-Meadow. She knew they would be watching the doors to see if Patrick dared show. Nothing would go unnoticed.

  T.K. had invited them all to see for themselves that T.K. Burke was marrying Toddie's mother.

  Elise heard the fiddlers start up the music, bowing the wedding march softly. Trembling, she stared into the mirror without actually seeing, then turned stricken eyes to meet Vesper's solid gaze. "I'm scared."

  "No need, honey. Yo' man done wait for you at the bottom of the stairs."

  Her voice came out on a quaver. "Lead the way, Vesper."

  Candles in elaborate candelabra cast the whole downstairs in a coral glow. A fire crackled above the muted whispers of the wedding guests. Dried floral arrangements mixed with evergreen filled oversize urns on either side of the fireplace.

  In the mass of faces turned to the top of the stairs, one could be Patrick Burke's. Which one?

  The circuit preacher in his dusty frock coat and w
orn boots waited with his back to the fireplace and a Bible in his hand. As if rehearsing his lines, he shifted his eyes from above the heads of the guests to the ceiling and back again.

  When the musicians saw her, they picked up the tempo, and Elise started down.

  She waited until Vesper stepped aside. Opposite her, Elise saw Mac MacCucheon, in the role of best man, give a brief nod of encouragement. T.K., elegant in his brown velvet jacket, moved forward to meet her and walk the few remaining steps. He looked down at her, but she couldn't meet his eyes, not even to smile.

  Her mouth was too dry to speak. Even her mind seemed to quit working. What if she tripped on her gown or mumbled the vows? And then something warm and wonderful gave her courage. T.K.'s rich baritone repeated the timeless words. She could almost believe he meant them.

  The ceremony ended. She wrenched her gaze up to meet the blazing green of his eyes, and the joy of his mouth on her lips caused her to forget everything but the moment.

  Afterward, guests crowded around to congratulate them. A few, carried away by sentiment, blew their noses. Feet shuffled. Women sniffled into lace handkerchiefs. Noise and laughter picked up, and voices grew louder.

  The guests filed past, and beaming and nodding, Elise welcomed them. They shook her hand like a bunkhouse pump and pecked her cheeks with moist fervor. Now and then, an unexpected kiss landed on her lips. The men good-naturedly teased T.K. and threw surreptitious glances at her, curious to see if she got the full message in their humor.

  Somebody placed Toddie in her arms, and she hugged him. Toddie, Toddie, I love you. Soon, I'll lose you. She handed him to T.K., who kissed the little boy so like himself and gave him to Vesper.

  Vesper's great bovine eyes kindled. "Come along, young man. It's past yore bedtime. Tell Mama and Papa good night."

  Elise watched them go, the small dark head nestled on Vesper's shoulder. She met T.K.'s melting gaze, and the words formed in her heart. My love, forgive me for what I've done to you this night.

  She had seen glances directed at Toddie with quick looks at T.K., observed the raised eyebrows, and heard sly exchanges with Patrick's name mentioned. How many stories would be exchanged over coffee or the back fences, from ribald jokes to the color of her petticoats?

  After what seemed ages, her face frozen into a smile, Elise heard the musicians tune up and the music begin. "May I have this dance, Mrs. Burke?" Not waiting for her answer, T.K. swept her into in his arms.

  Whispering so softly she had to strain to hear, T.K. spoke close to her ear. "Beautiful wife, this night has been a long time coming."

  Elise ventured a quick glance at his profile. He knew she watched him, and he held her closer. A smile broke over his face. He rubbed his cheek against her forehead and kissed her. Light from the candles flickered over him, he seemed younger and vulnerable. Her heart filled with sadness. He trusted her. She knew how deeply she could hurt him, would hurt him.

  Their dance ended. From then on, the evening became a blur. She went from one partner to another. Boswell danced his one-step with little enthusiasm and even less regard for the music. MacCucheon claimed her for a waltz, then came back for another. T.K. danced with other women, laughing and talking, yet always searching for her with his eyes.

  Grateful when the musicians took a break, she rested, enjoying the drink T.K. thrust in her hand. She didn't have time to thank him. A man nearly as tall as T.K. spoke jovially, congratulating T.K. and asking to be presented to his wife.

  "Lee, let me introduce my good friend, Efram O'Brien, from Dublin, Ireland."

  With a lilt in his voice, Efram bent low over her hand. "'Tis me pleasure, Mrs. Burke."

  Elise inhaled sharply. Had she and Efram O'Brien met before? Something stirred her memory, a gesture, his black hair, his smooth face. Oh, God. Was he from Boggy Creek? A friend of her papa's? No, not her papa's. Hers. She stared openmouthed. Mr. O'Brien gave her a sly, mischievous wink. The music began.

  "T.K., laddie, with your permission, I'll present your bonnie wife with my gift and then request a dance." Following T.K.'s nod, Efram held out a package. "To be opened in private. Shall we dance, lass?"

  Perspiration formed on her brow. And the terrifying weakness in her legs bade her seek support from her partner. It couldn't be, yet there he was: Red Man was Efram O'Brien!

  Stunned by the faint smell of mint, she fought the dizzying whirl in her head. She could not associate the charming Irishman with a naked savage privy to her most intimate secrets. What could she say to him? Her face burned.

  Once they were away from the others she glowered at him. "What are you doing here?"

  "I was invited."

  "I'd take a tomahawk to your scalp, but you'd probably turn into a leprechaun."

  "No leprechaun, lass. I'm still your friend."

  "Colonel MacKenzie and some of his officers are here. I ought to turn you in."

  "You'd never betray a friend."

  She blinked at him. "How do I know you won't betray me?"

  "You pain me, Mrs. Burke."

  "Does T.K. know you're a Comanche?"

  "Aye, lass, he knows."

  "You should have told me you were a friend of his."

  "At the time, you were the one needing a friend."

  Somewhat mollified, she turned her attention in a different direction. "Aren't you afraid Colonel MacKenzie will recognize you?"

  "You didn't recognize me, Lee. And you spent the night in my tipi."

  Elise rolled her eyes. "Mr. O'Brien, I fully recall the circumstances. I didn't know you immediately, but if I can recognize you, someone else can."

  "I've taken refuge in my Irish identity, lass, with its attendant and proverbial luck."

  "I could use some luck."

  "Beautiful women can do with less luck."

  "Oh," she whispered in despair, "I'm still an impostor."

  "You couldn't tell T.K.?"

  "I tried, but it was never the right time."

  "And now?"

  "It's too late."

  His face became unreadable, his eyes flat and expressionless, and for the first time, the Irishman and the Comanche Indian melded into one. "It's never too late for the truth. If you need me, leave a note in the cottonwood."

  He was an excellent dancer, guiding her about the floor with polished precision, now and then throwing in a few extra steps she couldn't follow.

  "Why didn't you tell T.K. about me?"

  "'Tis me upbringing, lass," he said whimsically. "Never betray a trust. Besides truth has a way of surfacing in matters of this kind. It won't need any help from me."

  To her dismay, tears stung her eyes at the unexpected sympathy in his voice, and she realized how close she was to hysteria. "Oh, Red Man, when T.K. learns of my deception, he'll never want me."

  His arm tightened about her waist, then relaxed. "It's going to be all right. Maybe not right away. Now smile. This is your wedding day."

  Vesper with her second sight had said something similar? Elise wished she had this man's certainty, because never in her life had she been so bone weary miserable.

  Efram deposited her in front of her husband. "You're a lucky man, T.K."

  T.K. grinned. "Agreed, Efram. How's the family in Ireland?"

  Before Efram had time to answer, a man dressed in the uniform of the Union Army positioned himself in front of them. "Pardon the interruption, but it's time I congratulate the bride and groom."

  Cool, detached, T.K. made the introductions. "Lee, Colonel MacKenzie. Efram O'Brien from Ireland, Colonel."

  Attended by a group of his officers, the colonel bowed. "You're a long way from home, Mr. O'Brien. What brings you to the West?"

  "Friends brought me, Colonel. I couldn't miss the wedding of a good friend."

  "Watch out for the Indians, Mr. O'Brien."

  Col. MacKenzie turned his attention to T.K. "Nice wedding, Mrs. Burke. Congratulations, Burke. Damned nice of you to invite us. Dull work rounding up Comanches."

 
T.K. nodded. "I forgot to mention, Efram, that the colonel here has come to settle the Comanches on the reservation."

  "Is he now! And are you having any luck, Colonel?"

  Col. MacKenzie's tight-lipped expression became even tighter. "We'll get them. No doubt about that. We'll find Grayhawk and his band, and when we do, the rest of the Indians will come in hungry and ragged and, preferably, by foot."

  "I suppose they're more frightening hungry and ragged" Elise said, smiling sweetly, "than when they're on horses?"

  His eyes narrowed. "They know the plains area better than we do, Mrs. Burke. Confront them and they scatter in all directions, rolling over the prairies like tumbleweeds."

  "Well, it was their land and their home." She looked down demurely. "You have to admit that, Colonel."

  "You don't know them the way we do, ma'ame specially Grayhawk."

  Her mouth formed a plump, pink, provocative O. "I'm sure I don't, sir."

  T.K. coughed discreetly before interrupting. "Honey, the colonel isn't here to debate the Indian problem."

  "Could I get you another drink, lass?" Efram's voice at her elbow was heavy with amusement. "Something not quite so potent perhaps?"

  Still looking at the colonel, she answered the Irishman by shaking her head. Her soft laugh accompanied a light shrug and a dismissive motion with her hands. "Grayhawk seems adept at taking care of himself."

  As if to discourage her, MacKenzie directed his gaze downward. "That Indian will never desert his people. That's his weakness. His time is about over. We'll get him in our net."

  Her next words dared him to differ. "You'll need a strong net, sir."

  "I have a strong net, madam. And mark my words, the time is close when we'll have Grayhawk where we want him settled on the reservation.'' Stiffly erect, Col. MacKenzie looked for confirmation from his subordinates, then bowed to her and said good night.

  T.K. smiled down at his wife. "Colonel MacKenzie is seldom challenged so openly, Lee."