Chase the Wind

by Cindy Holby - Wind 01 - Chase the Wind

  “We’ll be leaving at first light,” Ian informed the ladies. Faith just nodded, she dreaded the separation but knew it couldn’t be helped. This was a way to expand their herd with little financial investment. Ian had confided that Gray Horse was hoping to take another wife and needed the horses to impress the girl’s father.

  “Well, it worked on me, didn’t it?” Faith had laughed when he told her, remembering the first time she had seen him leading the string of horses.

  “And here I was thinking it was my charm and good looks,” he had replied as he advanced on her. She had just put the children down for a nap and was once again hanging diapers on the line when he had told her of the plans. He had grabbed her around the waist as she bent to get a diaper out of the basket, and she had squealed in mock fright, slapping the wet cloth against his chest. He flung the cloth over the line and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her into the house. They had made love while the children slept through the afternoon, smothering laughter in the pillows as they tickled each other.

  Faith looked at her husband, who was now sitting on the steps of the porch with his friend, planning a roundup of wild horses. God, please keep him safe, she prayed silently.

  Ian looked over at her from his perch and winked. She gathered the sleeping Jamie against her and took him to bed, Elizabeth following with Jenny. They had fixed Elizabeth a place to sleep in the sitting room, and she made her way to her bed after depositing Jenny in hers.

  Faith brushed out her hair as she waited in their bed for Ian to come to her. She heard the creak of the boards as he came across the porch and through the door. He bade Elizabeth a quiet good night, entered their room and closed the door firmly behind him. He loved seeing Faith this way, with the light of the lantern making a halo behind her head, her hair shining silver around her shoulders. He sat down on the bed and pulled off his boots. He had taken to going without his shirt as he worked in the sun, and his chest and back were now as bronzed as Gray Horse’s. Faith rubbed her hands over the muscles of his torso as he slid out of his pants, and he leaned back, pulling her down on top of him. Her hair pooled on either side of his face as he kissed her and rolled her over so that he was now on top of her, her hands once again kneading the muscles at the back of his neck, across his shoulders, down his spine to his waist. Her hands moved around to the front and he lifted her to pull her gown up. She adjusted her hips and he slid in, Faith letting out a little gasp as he did so. She wrapped her legs around him and he began to move, his hands holding her head gently between them, their foreheads touching, his hair hanging down on hers. Once again Faith held on to him for dear life as she felt her body begin to spin off into space, nothing but the stars around her.

  Part Two

  Iowa Territory

  1853

  Chapter Ten

  Ian Duncan looked up from the corral post he was replacing. A burst of laughter from Faith had caught his attention. She was on the porch with Jenny, their blond heads bent over some sewing. It was an uncommonly warm day for fall, and he could see Faith’s bare toes peeking out from under her dress. Jenny’s feet were also bare, her ankles sticking out of a pair of Jamie’s hand-me-down pants. Jenny was perched on a stool beside her mother, watching the progression of intricate stitches that Faith was making in the fabric. He couldn’t help smiling at the sight of them. He told himself again how rich he was, to have a wife who was silver and a daughter made of gold. Jenny closely resembled her mother in the shape of her nose and chin, but her coloring was more vibrant, possibly from all the time she spent in the sun. Jenny definitely had her father’s deep blue eyes, as did her brother Jamie.

  Jamie was trying to wrestle the corral post into the hole left by the broken one. At thirteen years of age the boy was shooting up so fast that Faith couldn’t keep him in clothes. The endless eating that had been his hallmark for years was becoming evident, and he was already approaching his father in height, although he still needed to fill out quite a bit through the shoulders. He was the image of Ian, right down to the hair that wouldn’t stay where it was supposed to. At present, Jamie’s copper-streaked hair was wringing with sweat and hanging down in his eyes as he shoved against the post. Ian reached out a hand and braced the top of the post while Jamie pushed the bottom until it slid into the hole. Ian handed him a hammer and stepped back so the boy could nail the planks into place. Storm, who had been watching the proceedings, danced away in mock fright when the hammering started. Ian watched the stallion’s antics, then began to whistle “Good King Wenceslas.” Storm came over to where Ian was sitting on a barrel and placed his nose in the man’s lap. Ian rubbed the horse’s sooty-colored nose as he considered the years that had brought him to this place.

  He had started his herd with a roundup of several horses that were running wild on the plains. Ian and Gray Horse had spent several days pursuing the bunch before they trapped them in a box canyon. They had camped there and cut the cream from the herd before turning the rest loose. They had then divided the animals between them and tamed them enough to get them home. They had returned home some three weeks later much richer for the trip. Faith had been beside herself with worry, but after one look at his satisfied grin she had declared it was all worth it.

  Ian now had some of the finest horses in the whole territory, with the U.S. Army as one of his best customers. Gray Horse had also profited greatly from the trip and his friendship with Ian. He now had a wife, two fine sons and a daughter. He would occasionally bring his family along when he visited. His wife was still shy after all these years, but the twins got on quite well with the younger children and they would run all over the countryside until they dropped into their beds at the end of the day.

  Once again Ian looked up at the house where Faith and Jenny were working. The house had aged until it looked as if it was part of the landscape. There had been talk at one time of building an additional room after the birth of another son, but he had died at the age of two from the pox. Another son, born a few years later, had died in his sleep one afternoon, for no apparent reason. The two tiny bodies were in the church cemetery in town. Faith had been devastated, especially after losing the second.

  She was pregnant once again, however, her condition just beginning to show. Ian hoped it was a girl. Jamie was all anyone could every want in a son, but Ian knew Faith felt she had not done quite as good a job in raising Jenny.

  Ian couldn’t help grinning when he thought about his daughter. From the very first steps she took, she had been on her brother’s heels, following wherever he led. It was never practical to put her in a dress; she was constantly climbing trees and splashing through creeks and getting into as much mischief as any boy ever did. She also had an incredible sense of balance. She could walk across the corral rail without batting an eye, and Ian had once caught her swinging from the rafter outside the hayloft in the barn. Faith still didn’t know about that one, she would have beat Jenny for a week if she had seen it.

  Faith had instilled proper manners in the children so that they could be civil when they wanted. She had also managed to pass down her talent for sewing to Jenny. They had spent many a winter evening with Jenny working on a sampler while Jamie read out loud. It was the only time Jenny ever really sat still. Jamie, however, could sit for hours, reading a book, or just watching the clouds in the sky. He would be wrapped up in a world of his own making until Jenny couldn’t stand it and would come pester him until he joined her in some adventure, both of them flying across the plains, usually bareback, Jenny’s long golden hair flying in the wind.

  They both had inherited the Duncan horse magic, as Faith called it, especially Jamie. He could tame a horse faster than anyone Ian had ever seen, and usually just by talking to it. He was constantly amazing Ian, who couldn’t help looking on the boy with pride. He was proud of Jenny, too; he just hoped that as she grew older she would grow more ladylike. There was still time. They were only thirteen years old, on the threshold of growing up.
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  Jamie finished his work on the corral and stood back so his father could inspect his work. Ian carefully looked over the job and nudged the post with the toe of his boot. “Looks good to me,” he finally announced. Jamie flashed a grin, and Ian put his arm around the boy’s shoulder. “Let’s go see what your mother has fixed us for dinner.”

  Faith looked up and smiled as she saw Ian and Jamie making their way to the house. They were so much alike that it scared her sometimes. Ian was so proud of the boy, she had caught him several times just watching him while he worked, or while he read, sometimes even as he slept.

  “Like this, Momma?” Jenny asked. Faith turned from her musings to look at the sewing that was gathered in Jenny’s lap.

  “Yes, that’s it,” she answered as she inspected the small, neat stitches. Jenny might run wild like a savage, but she was most ladylike in her sewing, taking pride in the neatness of her work.

  Something had caught Faith’s attention, and Jenny looked up to see what it was. Her father and brother were at the well. Ian was working the pump so they could wash up for dinner, the lean muscles in his back working effortlessly. As always, Jenny’s heart skipped a beat when she looked at her father. He was as glorious to her as a god, his easygoing ways and patience a calming influence in her otherwise hectic life. He had always been the one to calm her when her emotions got the better of her. Faith claimed she and her daughter were too much alike personality-wise for her to be able to reason with Jenny.

  “Momma, how did you know you loved Dad?” she asked her mother. Faith was also watching the two briskly scrubbing their face and hands to wash off the sweat and grime. Faith had to take a minute to answer, her mind going back to when she had asked the same question of her own mother.

  “I just knew. The first time I met him, I knew,” Faith answered.

  “How did you know?”

  Faith remembered that Sunday on the riverbank, a warm fall day like today, when Ian had first kissed her. “My toes curled up when he kissed me,” Faith said, a soft smile curving her face. Ian walked up on the porch and bent over Faith, putting his hands on the arms of her chair.

  “What are you smiling about?” he asked, the grin flashing as he leaned over her.

  “I was just remembering something,” she replied. He lowered his face and planted a soft kiss on her curved lips. Jenny leaned forward and saw her mother’s toes peeking out from between her father’s booted feet. To her amazement, she saw Faith’s toes curl up as if seeking a purchase on the aged wood of the porch.

  “And what was that memory that made you smile?” he asked when he was done with the kiss.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Faith answered. She extended her hands, and Ian pulled her up from the chair.

  “What were you looking at?” Jamie asked his sister after their parents had gone into the house.

  “Momma’s toes curl up when Dad kisses her,” Jenny informed him. Jamie looked at her as if she had lost her mind. , “You wouldn’t understand. You’re just a boy.”

  “Thank God,” Jamie replied. Jenny stuck her tongue out at him as they went inside.

  Later that night, when the twins were asleep in their loft and Ian and Faith had settled down for the night, Ian asked her again about what had made her smile.

  “Do you remember the first time you kissed me?” Faith asked him.

  “Yes, I do, it was that first Sunday, on the banks of the Ohio. I felt like I had been kicked by a horse.” Faith punched his ribs at the crudeness of his comparison. “Ooof,” he said, rubbing the injured area. “Yes, I remember,” he said softly as he pulled her close.

  “Remember when I tripped over the quilt?”

  “Yes. Come to think of if, you never told me why you had the giggles that day.”

  “My mother told me I would know that I loved a man because my toes would curl up when he kissed me. That’s why I tripped— my toes were all curled up.” Ian burst into laughter. “Jenny was asking me the same thing today, and I told her that she would know she loved a man because her toes would curl up with his kiss.” Ian couldn’t smother his laughter; he let it out in whooping bursts. “What is so funny?” Faith asked, punching his ribs again.

  “Oh, Faith, I love you,” he said when he got himself under control. “Let me give this a try and see what happens.” He pulled her down and began to rain kisses on her, stopping occasionally to see what condition her toes were in. He soon had Faith giggling out of control because he got confused and started kissing her toes. In the loft above, Jamie and Jenny listened in the dark to their parents’ laughter.

  “What is going on down there that is so funny?” Jamie asked softly from his bed. A blanket hung in the middle of the room as a partition between them. Jenny leaned up on her elbow and looked at where she knew Jamie was lying on the other side of the blanket.

  “You know,” she said into the darkness.

  “No, I don’t,” Jamie replied. Jenny dropped back on her bed and kicked her blankets restlessly. “What?” he asked.

  “Sometimes you are so stupid,” Jenny said in frustration. “They’re making love.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. How do you think we got here? Why do you think Momma is expecting right now?”

  “I try not to think about that.”

  “You try not to think about anything, if you ask me.”

  Jamie threw the first thing he could find at the blanket. Jenny laughed as the blanket blew towards her with the impact of his boot.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was time for the fall visit with Elizabeth. Ian would bring a string of horses to trade, and Faith would shop for the special things that could only be found in the big city. Faith, Jenny and Jamie were out on the streets of St. Jo shopping for shoes. Jamie was being uncooperative because he had wanted to go horse trading with his father and Faith had insisted that he come with her so she could be sure of the fit. He was following her now, his arms full of packages. Jenny was behind him, occasionally smacking his bottom with the package she was carrying by a string. Jenny had decided that her misery was worse, because not only could she not go horse trading but she had also been made to wear a dress. Jamie had assured his sister that the minute they were back at their grandma’s he was going to give her a thrashing that she wouldn’t believe. Jenny had just stuck her tongue out at him, which drew a sharp look from her mother. Faith’s patience was gone, and she was tired. Her back hurt, too, her pregnancy making the long day on her feet painful.

  She was leading her family along to Elizabeth’s when someone grabbed her arm.

  “I thought that was you,” hissed a voice from her past. The children, who had been bickering with each other, crashed into her from behind. She jerked her arm out of a claw-like grasp and turned to look at the woman who had grabbed her.

  It was Miriam, and the fifteen years since she had last seen her had not been kind. Her hair, which had once been a deep brown, was now shot with gray, and her once perfect complexion was now full of bags and wrinkles. Her skin hung on her once well-proportioned frame, and her clothing was secondhand at best.

  “I see you didn’t waste any time getting brats from that bastard,” Miriam said as she looked the twins over. “This one is that stable hand all over again.” Jamie stepped back as the woman made a motion to grab him.

  “I have nothing to say to you, Miriam,” Faith said. She tried to step off the walk, but Miriam blocked her path.

  “I have plenty to say to you, you selfish bitch.” The hatred was plain on her face, and Jenny took off like a shot to find her father. Jamie drew himself up to his full height and stepped between them. Faith put her hand on his arm and pulled him back. “You and your lover ruined my life,” Miriam began. “Do you even care that your father killed himself the night you ran off?”

  “He wasn’t my father,” Faith said, her voice steady.

  “He left me with all those bills, all that debt. I had to sneak out of town. I lost everything.” Miriam’s ey
es had a faraway look to them. “Randolph Mason wouldn’t help me; he said he would if I got you for him.”

  “You sold me to him,” Faith cried, looking at the half-crazed face of the woman. Jamie’s eyes were huge in his face as he watched the two of them.

  “Randolph went crazy after you left.” Miriam was whispering now, as if sharing a secret with Faith. “You messed him up real good when you shot him. It took him forever to heal. He swore he’d hunt you down and make you pay. I’m surprised he hasn’t found you yet.”

  “It’s been fifteen years.” Faith felt her legs trembling beneath her.

  “The funny thing is, after you left, he started putting his name on everything, he owned—his clothes, his shoes, his belt buckle, even a big old R M branded on the side of that devil horse of his. He said nobody would ever take anything of his again, he’d made sure of it.”

  The streets of St. Jo started spinning around Faith. She saw Ian running towards her, Jenny behind him, heard Jamie calling her, but it was all so far away. The last thing she remembered was Miriam’s haggard face leering down at her, the tic, and then a bizarre smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  Ian saw Faith slide to the ground as if in slow motion. Jamie dropped the packages he was holding and tried to stop her descent. There was a woman standing over her, but by the time Ian crossed the street, she was gone. Jenny was trying not to cry, and Jamie was looking up at Ian, his wide blue eyes full of fear. Ian gathered his wife into his arms and felt the wetness that had soaked through her gown. Jenny let out a sob when she saw the bloody water staining the walkway. She helped Jamie retrieve the packages, and they made their way after their father, who was trying to get Faith through the crowd that had gathered.

  “Jenny, run on to Elizabeth’s and tell her what happened. Jamie, run get the doctor,” Ian barked as he carried his wife through the streets. The twins took off like shots out of a cannon, Jenny hiking her skirts up as she ran.