She no longer felt any shame. She felt only pride in being directly related to the grand history of this land. She stood to inherit a great deal of it, along with a good deal of power, and she suddenly realized how fitting that would be, for her and Ramon both.
She looked at her father, who sat next to her, and she reached over and took his hand. He looked at her sadly, and she knew that Yellow Eagle’s death had deeply affected him. He would never be quite the same. “You’ve told me about the Cheyenne belief in the circle of life, Father,” she told him. “I think this is an example of things coming full circle.” She squeezed his hand. “You couldn’t have Yellow Eagle, but you had me, and now you have Yellow Eagle’s son, and he and I will win back some of this land through our inheritance. It’s all going to work out.”
He smiled and sighed, blinking back tears. “I’m not sure I could have survived all these years without you, Irene. You were the rock that kept me going, and you didn’t even know it. It wasn’t Bea or the business or the gold mines—none of those things. It’s all been for you. Thank you for offering to raise Jumping Bear.”
She smiled and kissed the boy’s hair. “Ramon won’t mind one bit. He’ll be happy and proud to raise him as our own.” She laughed. “What a grand mixture we have! David is one-quarter Indian and looks white, while Sharron is also one-quarter Indian but looks like a full-blood. Then there is Alejandro, who is Mexican; and now little Sam, three-quarters Indian. Ramon and I are starting off with a ready-made family that is quite a mixture. We’ll have a time explaining it to the children.”
Kirk smiled, quickly wiping at a tear. “I’m glad you’re marrying Ramon, Irene. He’s a damn good man. Your mother will have some adjusting to do, but Bea deserves to eat a little crow once in a while. She’ll get over it.”
“How do you think she’ll react to Sam? We’re bringing home an Indian grandson she doesn’t know anything about.”
He chuckled. “Well, I’ve sprung things on her before. I think she’s getting used to it.” He sobered slightly. “I’d like him to carry my name, Irene. Do you think Ramon would mind?”
“Kirkland?”
He looked at her. “I’d be grateful. I’m not sure John will ever marry, and he’s slowly killing himself with drink. There might not be anyone left to carry on my name. It just seems fitting that the son of my first-born should do it.”
Their eyes held. “All right,” she told him. “He’ll be Samuel John Kirkland. I hope you realize you’re only adding to the confusion that is going to pervade the Vallejo household.”
He smiled through tears. “It’s going to be a happy household, Irene, I can tell. I’m glad you’re finally going to be married to a man you really love, and I’m sorry about the years of hell you went through so silently. You never should have kept it so hidden.”
She looked down at little Sam. “I thought it was my duty. The first few years I thought everything that happened was my fault.” She closed her eyes. “It’s over now. Chad is gone from my life, and I don’t want to think about him anymore. I just want to think about Ramon and what lies ahead. I just wish Yellow Eagle didn’t have to die that way. I’m sorry, Father.”
“There’s really no one to blame for it. The Indian is in for a bad time of it, and there isn’t a damn thing that can be done about it. It makes me sick to think of it. In a way I suppose it’s men like me who unintentionally started it—coming out here to hunt and trap, befriending the Indians, living among them, leading them to believe they could trust all white men.” He sighed deeply. “What’s done is done. This land is never going to be the same.”
“Next stop—Denver,” a conductor shouted.
Denver, Irene thought, remembering what a tiny, dirty, log-cabin town it was when her family first arrived. Yes, the land would truly never be the same, but one thing had not changed, and that was Ramon. He would be waiting for her at the station. She sat up straighter, buttoning the little jacket she had purchased for Sam in Cheyenne. “Time to wake up, son,” she told him. “You’re going to meet your new daddy.”
Her heart rushed at the realization that the waiting was over. Now that she had found Yellow Eagle and was truly at peace with herself, she and Ramon could be married. At last she would lie with the man who had first awakened all her womanly needs and emotions, the man she had loved for what seemed most of her life.
The train rumbled toward Union Station, and high brick buildings blocked the view of the mountains. She thought what a contrast Denver was to the sorry Indian villages on the reservations, and she realized the contrast would be even more startling for little Sam. The train whistle blew again, and Sam hugged her tightly around the neck.
September 1877
Organ music filled the grand cathedral, as Irene began her walk up the aisle. Her heart soared with the music, and she wondered how she was going to get through the ceremony without breaking down into tears of great joy. This was like a strange dream that at one time she never thought possible. Ramon stood waiting at the end of the aisle, wearing a silver-gray silk suit and white ruffled shirt, looking as royal as his ancestors, standing tall and dark and handsome.
This was their moment, and she thought how both of them deserved this happiness. The church was filled with friends and business associates of both bride and groom. Some had come out of genuine happiness for the couple, others out of curiosity, wanting to see the half-breed daughter of Bea and David Kirkland marry the Mexican contractor. Irene knew a hundred different rumors had probably been spread about her divorce and now her marriage to Ramon. They mattered little to her. People could think what they wanted. She only knew that at last she was marrying the only man she had truly loved, totally loved, from the very beginning.
Red stood beside Ramon as best man. He watched her with a smile of genuine happiness, but Irene noticed how much thinner and older he looked. Elly had made the poor man’s life hell for him. The day before he had apologized to Ramon for coming to the wedding alone. Elly refused to attend. She wanted no part of her half-breed sister’s marriage to a Mexican. Irene was not surprised at the affront, and she was not about to let it disturb her. She had not seen Elly since first coming back to Denver, and she was sure Elly had dreamed up a way of blaming her for Chad’s departure.
John stood next to Red. He had managed to stay away from liquor for twenty-four hours, having promised Irene he would not show up drunk at her wedding. He looked a little pale, and she knew he was anxious to break out the whiskey at the reception. Irene loved him in spite of his weaknesses, and she wished he would find a good woman and marry, but he seemed to be interested only in drinking and carousing in Old Colorado City.
She told herself she must not think about that now. She must think only of what a happy day this was. She glanced at Rose, who smiled warmly. To their surprise and delight, Irene had asked Rose and Jenny to be maid of honor and bridesmaid, respectively. Both had remained faithful, trusted servants and had come back with her from Colorado Springs to live in the Kirkland mansion and help Bea tend to the children while Irene went to find Yellow Eagle. In all these years Rose had never married. She was a plain, plump woman who seemed to enjoy waiting on others, never complaining about her status in life. Jenny was now seeing a man who delivered ice at the mansion once a week, and Irene suspected she would lose the woman to marriage soon.
Little Sharron skipped down the aisle ahead of her mother, throwing flowers from a basket. People looked and whispered, most of them smiling and commenting on the child’s exquisite beauty, which no one could deny. At the end of the aisle stood the three “sons” in jackets and short pants: handsome, six-year-old David; little Alejandro, almost two; and two-and-one-half-year-old Sam Kirkland, his hair hanging past his shoulders and a headband around his forehead. Irene had promised Yellow Eagle she would not cut his son’s hair until the boy was older and able to decide for himself whether he wanted it short or long.
Irene could not imagine a happier moment in any woman’s life. Her only
worry now was Bea. She glanced at her mother, who stood at the front of the aisle wearing a deep green taffeta dress of the latest fashion. She held herself tall and erect as she always had, but she was noticeably thinner and grayer. She had accepted this marriage with cool resignation, realizing she could no longer do anything to stop it. Irene suspected the woman was sicker than she let on. Bea had probably made no vehement objections to the marriage because she was simply too tired to do so; perhaps because she suspected she would not be on this earth much longer, and she didn’t want to leave it with bad feelings between herself and her children. She had tried in vain to make some kind of amends with Elly, but the girl would have nothing to do with the family. John had also been distant. For Irene’s sake alone he had agreed to come to Denver for the wedding and be civil to his mother, but Irene suspected her brother would feel no great loss when something happened to Bea. It was a source of great sadness for her, and she knew it was for Bea.
She moved her eyes back to the front of the church. She must not think of sad things today. This was her day, hers and Ramon’s. After the wedding there would be a grand fiesta-style reception held on the lawn of the Kirkland mansion, with catered food and drinks, Mexican music, and even a piñata for the children. Bea was in a stew over not having the reception in her grand new ballroom, with a violin orchestra. Irene had learned to take her mother’s fits with a grain of salt. She was marrying a proud man descended from Spanish royalty, and their reception would have all the flavor of that heritage, whether Bea liked it or not.
She approached the wedding party, people staring in awe at the beautiful Irene Kirkland, who seemed unaffected by the years. Some whispered that her beauty was owed to her mixed blood. Irene wore a white satin sheathlike dress, the front skirt a tumble of satin tufts, each one inset with tiny red rubies. The dropped waist accented her slender form, and the gentle cut of the lace-trimmed bodice provocatively displayed just enough silken, tawny-colored bosom to put fire into Ramon’s blood as she came closer. A train of lace into which real roses had been sewn spread out for six feet behind her.
Irene shivered from the majesty of the organ music and the way it penetrated the domed ceiling of the cathedral. She and the children had been baptised into the church and Irene had completed her catechism. She was now Catholic, gladly accepting her new religion in spite of her mother’s objections.
She came closer and Kirk left her to go and sit with Bea. From then on no one existed for Irene and Ramon but each other. Irene had trouble getting through her vows. Her voice kept breaking, and tears kept wanting to come. Ramon held her hand tightly in reassurance as she managed to complete her promises, and his own eyes were misty when he returned the vows. Irene clung to his arm for fear of collapsing. How she managed to get through the long ceremony, she was not certain. She floated through the receiving line, hardly aware of the faces that smiled at her, kissed her, congratulated her. She climbed into the wedding carriage with her new husband, falling into his arms and weeping with relieved joy as the carriage made its way to the reception.
“Nothing can drive us apart again, can it, Ramon?” she said tearfully.
“No, mi vida. We will never be apart again.”
The reception became an evening of laughter and dancing, food and games, Ramon teaching Irene a slow Spanish dance, their eyes holding in the building heat of long-starved desires. She was glad now they had waited, for the anticipation would make their union even more intense and satisfying. They cut the cake, took time to visit with well-wishers, danced with the children.
Everyone drank and grew happier. The children were blindfolded and given sticks to hit at the piñata to try to break it. Watching them brought hearty laughter to the rest of the crowd. The children screamed and banged at the colorful paper donkey until it finally broke and showered them with candy. As they laughed and squealed and scrambled to pick it up, Ramon’s arm suddenly came around Irene from behind, and he pulled her away from the crowd.
“Vamos, mi querida,” he said softly, whisking her back to the wedding carriage. A few people spotted them, running after them and throwing flowers and rice as they climbed into the carriage that would take them to the most elegant suite at the Denver Inn, where their clothes had already been delivered. Because of the children, and her mother’s delicate health, Irene had decided against a trip away from Denver for the time being. Until her mother seemed better, they would stay in Denver for a while, living at Ramon’s house.
She rested her head against Ramon’s shoulder, and his strong arm came around her. He touched her chin to make her look at him, and his mouth met hers in a delicious kiss, one hand moving to touch her breast lightly. The touch sent a fire roaring through her veins, a fire that would only be quenched when Ramon Vallejo consummated their marriage. Old Jim drove the carriage through the gas-lit streets of a now-thriving Denver, a broad smile on his face. For once “Miss Irene” was a truly happy lady.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Irene felt sixteen again, but this time she was not afraid. How long had she and Ramon had to live with this intense desire without being able to do anything about it? Now, at last, they could physically share the love they had been so long denied. Ramon kept his arm around her as they climbed the stairs, stopping at each landing and pulling her into his arms for another hungry kiss. When they reached the floor where their suite was, he whisked her up into his strong arms.
Irene laughed. “I feel like a silly girl,” she told him.
“And I am a boy again,” he answered, kissing her again. He stopped outside the door, and Irene’s smile faded.
“I’m nervous, Ramon.” She closed her eyes and put her head on his shoulder. “I want so much to please you.”
He kissed at her hair. “If you think you would not please me, you are a foolish woman. Besides, it is the love and desire that make it pleasing, Irene. You have never known how it should be with a man.”
He opened the door and carried her inside, setting her on her feet and grasping her face in his hands. “You had only that one moment with a man you truly loved, and even that was not totally free and right like this is. We are husband and wife now. Nothing can stop us from taking all the pleasure we want in each other.”
He kissed her lightly and moved to close the door, then turned to take the headpiece and veil from her hair. She stood still as he unpinned her hair. Her breathing deepened, her heart pounded, every nerve end alive with anticipation and desire. Her hair fell in golden waves nearly to her waist. Ramon led her to the bed, setting her down on it and kneeling to remove her shoes. “You are to do nothing but enjoy, mi querida,” he told her. “I will do it all.”
She felt a flush come to her cheeks as he pushed up her dress and undid the stockings from her garter belt, peeling each one down and tossing it aside. He rose then, taking off his jacket and tie, his shoes and stockings, his shirt. Irene watched him, breathing deeply at the sight of his muscular, brown body. He removed his pants, leaving his long johns, and she shivered with need at the sight of him.
He knelt down in front of her then, and she touched his hair as he unbuttoned the front of her wedding dress, opening it and pulling it from her shoulders, revealing her camisole and corset. He pulled her to her feet, pulling her dress and slips away, then unlaced the corset and let it fall. He unhooked her garter belt, leaving her standing there in only her camisole and drawers.
Ramon struggled to keep himself in control, refusing to ravish her the way he would like to do, wanting it all to be good and sweet. He moved his fingers under the straps of her camisole, pulling them off her shoulders while their eyes filled with heated desire. He untied the camisole, and Irene closed her eyes and sucked in her breath as Ramon Vallejo gazed upon her breasts for the first time.
“Que mujer más hermoso,” he whispered. “Yo te quiero, mi querida.” His lips covered her mouth then in a warm, passionate, searching kiss, as he moved a thumb over her taught nipple. The touch sent fire through her veins, and she move
d her arms around his neck, returning the kiss with the passion of a young girl in love for the first time. He crushed her breasts against his bare chest, moving a hand to her hips and pressing his hardness against her.
“Siento el fuego bajo tu piel,” he whispered, running his hand over her bare back. She knew he had said something about the fire under her skin, and she could feel the fire under his own.
He picked her up and laid her on the bed, not even bothering to turn down the covers. Neither of them wanted to take the time. He moved on top of her, and Irene closed her eyes as his lips trailed down her neck, moving to her breasts. She gasped with the glory of his warm lips and tongue gently savoring their pink fruits. She grasped his hair and pushed herself toward him, suddenly feeling as though she could not give him enough.
From then on neither of them could move slowly and take their time as planned. The need was too strong. They had waited too many years for this. Ramon groaned with great need as he tasted her breasts, but oh, so gently, not painfully the way Chad had done. Irene gasped his name as his lips moved downward, kissing at her belly as he removed the last of her clothing. He pulled them off, and she wondered if she would faint at the ecstasy of lying naked before him. He kissed at the golden hairs that hid that part of her he wanted most to invade.
Never before had Irene wanted to be so bold before a man. Never before had she felt she could not give enough, or felt so daring that she wanted to reveal and offer up every part of herself. His hands moved gently to her inner thighs, urging them apart, and she cried out at the ecstasy of allowing him his pleasure, reaching up and grasping the bed rails as his tongue explored, sending her into a realm of ecstasy she had never known before. Not even Hank had made her feel like this, and in moments she was crying out Ramon’s name as the wonderful climax engulfed her. His lips trailed back over her belly, and in the next moment he covered her mouth in a hot, urgent kiss, while he removed his long johns.
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