by Norah Hess
"I wonder how Logan and Cailyn are getting along," Jules said in the silence that developed.
"I'm sure they're doing just fine."
"Logan is real taken with her, don't you think?"
"It appears that way," Willow said shortly.
"Wouldn't it be something if they got together?"
Willow pushed the almost dry hair off her face and gave Jules a stony look. "How do you mean, get together? Are you thinking that your friend will replace my father and Buck Axel with Cailyn?"
"No, dammit. I don't think that," Jules snapped angrily. "Logan is a gentleman and would never take advantage of Cailyn. When I said get together, I meant that they would get married. Find a contentment that neither one of them has ever had."
Willow was immediately sorry she had spoken so harshly about Logan. She had gotten to know the handsome man well enough to know that he wouldn't do what she had accused him of.
"You are right," she conceded. "Logan isn't the type to do that. But as for them getting married, I don't know. Cailyn has only known cruelty at the hands of men."
Jules shook his head regretfully. "That's true, but maybe Logan can show her that all men are not alike."
"Maybe," Willow said sadly. "I hope so."
Her hair dry now, Willow stood up and said, "I'm going to get Ma and go eat."
"I'll see you at the cookhouse then," Jules said, and left as Willow walked toward Ruth's room.
When Willow walked into Corrie Mae's domain, accompanied by her mother and Rooster, the aroma there said that her cook had indeed prepared a feast. The long table was so filled with platters and dishes of food, there was hardly room for the plates.
Jules and the help were already seated, waiting for their arrival. Jules and Jimmy jumped up simultaneously to seat Willow. She had a hard time hiding her amusement when Jimmy got to her first. She was hard-pressed not to laugh out loud at the dark look Jules sent the teenager.
"Everything looks delicious, Corrie Mae," Willow said as platters of roast beef and fried chicken and three different vegetables were passed around.
"I cooked everything I could think of in gratefulness that you were able to get home safe and sound."
"Thank you very much, Corrie Mae." Willow smiled at the woman she couldn't help liking.
When every platter and bowl had been handed around, the only sound in the room was the clinking of flatware as everyone started in on the banquet.
Later, when Corrie Mae had poured coffee for everyone, questions were asked and answers given. When Jules described the gun battle, how he had shot Buck Axel, and how Logan had been forced to shoot and kill Otto, Jimmy asked, "Where is Logan?"
There was a moment's silence, and then Willow said, "He stayed behind for a while to take care of a woman who came down with pneumonia."
"That's right," Jules agreed to Willow's half-truth.
"He'll probably come riding back in a week or so."
Willow sent him a grateful look. She didn't think it was necessary for anyone to know about Cailyn's misfortune. The woman would most likely be with Logan when he returned.
Willow had discreetly watched Jules and Corrie Mae during the meal. She had heard no plans to meet later. In fact, the cook paid Jules less attention than she did the other men.
While Willow was trying to figure that out, Ruth said, "Are you about ready to go to the house, Willow? Rooster and I want to talk to you."
"Sure, Ma," Willow answered, then laughingly added, "That is, if I can stand up after stuffing myself like a pig." Jimmy rushed to open the door for her, and a glance at Jules told her that he wasn't pleased with the young man's action.
It would never enter your mind to perform suck a gentlemanly act, would it, Jules Asher? she thought as she stepped out into the cold night.
When Willow and Ruth and Rooster entered the house and walked into the kitchen, Willow sat down by the hearth and faced her mother and ranch foreman. She looked at their excited faces and said, "The pair of you are dying to tell me something. What is it?"
Ruth and Rooster started to speak at once, and then Rooster said with a grin, "Go ahead, Ruth, tell her."
"We're going to get married," Ruth burst out.
"That doesn't surprise me, Ma." Willow smiled at the beaming woman. "I couldn't be happier for you both. When is the big event going to take place?"
"As soon as possible," Rooster answered. "Before bad weather sets in."
"What has the weather got to do with when you get married?" Willow looked perplexed.
"Because, Willow," Ruth answered this time, "if it's all right with you, Rooster and I want to move back to our ranch and run it."
"That's a wonderful idea, Ma. Why should I mind?"
"You slaved so hard on that place for years—by rights the ranch should be half yours."
"You're wrong, Ma. There is no comparison between my hard work and your mental anguish all those long years. Tired muscles recover, but the damage done to the mind is a long time healing. Living in peace with Rooster will make a new woman out of you."
Rooster reached for Willow's hands, his eyes wet. "I'll take good care of your mother, Willow, never doubt that."
"I know you will, Rooster." Willow squeezed the work-roughened hands. "I guess you'll be talking to Reverend Moser tomorrow."
"No." Rooster shook his head with a grin. "I'm going to talk to him tonight. Me and Ruth would like to get married tomorrow."
Willow laughed and teased, "Everyone is going to think it's a shotgun wedding."
Rooster's face grew fiery red. "They'd have no reason to think that. I haven't even kissed your ma."
"Oh, Rooster, I was only funning you," Willow apologized.
"I see." Rooster gave an embarrassed laugh.
Willow rose from the hearth. "Congratulations to both of you. If you don't mind, I'm going to bed now. I'm almost asleep on my feet."
Cailyn set the cup of deer broth she had been sipping on the table beside the bed. "Goodness," she said, laughing, "Where did you get that armload of women's clothing, Logan?"
"I went through Willow's wardrobe and dresser. There's really not much you can use." He started removing the articles draped across his arm. "But there are a few pieces I think might fit you. They look like Willow must have worn them when she was a young girl."
Logan held up a faded calico dress. "I think this will fit you nicely. There are two more this size." He sorted through the garments he'd laid on the foot of the bed. "Here's some small-sized underclothes—petticoats, camisoles. And these," he said with a grin, holding up three pairs of thigh-length drawers.
Cailyn frowned. "They don't look like they'd be very warm. Not like my buckskins."
Logan had a hard time not to show his amusement as he said, "They're not to be worn outside, Cailyn. These three articles are to be worn underneath dresses, next to your skin."
"I have never worn so many clothes at once. I don't think I would like it."
"You'll get used to it."
"Why should I get used to it? I like wearing my doeskin shifts. My body has freedom in them."
"Look, Cailyn." Logan pushed aside the clothes and sat down on the edge of the bed. "The time has come when you must decide which race you will adopt. I don't think that you want to go back to the Apache village where you were treated as a virtual slave and would probably be sold again. So, what is your alternative?"
"The white race, I guess," Cailyn answered reluctantly, remembering her treatment at the hands of the white men.
"All white people aren't like Willow's father and Buck Axel," Logan said gently, reading her mind. "What about Willow and Jules? They were kind to you, weren't they?"
"Oh, yes." Cailyn's eyes lit up. "Willow has been very kind to me. I would be dead now if not for her."
"What about my friend Jules? Wasn't he nice to you?"
"I guess so. He didn't pay much attention to me. He only wanted to look at Willow. Does he want her to be his woman?"
"I thin
k he finally does," Logan answered after a thoughtful moment. "I think he would marry her now."
"He didn't want to before? Willow is so beautiful and kind."
"He had some kind of notion in his head that if he got married he'd be giving up his freedom. I think, though, that he's finding his so-called freedom a cold bedfellow.
"Now, enough about my friend Jules. If I fix a tub of warm water and set it in front of the fireplace, do you feel strong enough to take a bath and put on some of these clothes? You've got to start moving around or you'll never regain your strength."
"You are right, of course. I have been in bed four days. It is time I was up and around."
"Good girl. I'll get your bath ready. When you're finished and dressed, I'll help you wash your hair. I have a feeling that beneath that bear grease you have some beautiful shiny hair."
A short time later, as Cailyn lowered herself into the warm water, she shivered with delight. She had never before bathed in warm water. In the warm weather she bathed in the river. But even on the hottest day the water was always cold.
It was with reluctance that she finally stepped out of the tub and toweled herself dry with a worn towel. It took her a while to figure out how to don the white woman's undergarments and to button up the bodice of the dress which was only a little large on her. She felt very awkward in it as she went to the kitchen to tell Logan she was ready to wash her hair.
When she stepped into the room, Logan stared at her so long, she burst out, "I look ridiculous don't I?"
Logan swallowed, and then said softly, "You look lovely, Cailyn." He took her arm and led her to the kitchen table, where a large basin and two pots of warm water waited. "I'll help you wash your hair now."
Two latherings and three rinses later, Cailyn knelt between Logan's knees as he towel-dried her hair in front of the fireplace. As it dried, the flames picked up highlights in the tresses that were now two shades lighter with the bear grease removed.
Her forearms resting on his thighs, Cailyn asked through the fall of hair hanging over her face, "What is to become of me, Logan?"
"I've been giving that some thought," Logan said as he picked up a comb and started drawing it through the silky strands. "How would you like to live in Colorado?"
"Where is this Colorado?"
"About two weeks' travel, northwest."
"Where would I live there? On another reservation?" Cailyn's throat closed nervously.
"No," Logan said slowly, combing the hair off Cailyn's face as he gathered his thoughts. "When I was just a baby, my French father staked a claim of a hundred acres. It's beautiful land of mountains and meadows, tall pines and quaking aspens. A river of fresh, clear water runs through a portion of it. I vaguely remember a boat docking at a certain spot once a week to buy the produce my mother raised in her garden."
"It sounds wonderful, Logan." Cailyn's sigh was a happy sound. "Who would I live with there?" she asked as she rose from her kneeling position and sat down on the hearth, facing Logan.
"With me, of course. Would you like that?"
"Oh, yes, Logan." Cailyn's eyes danced with excitement. "I feel so safe with you. When do we start for this Colorado?"
"As soon as you feel strong enough to travel. We get a lot of snow there, especially up in the mountains. It is probably snowing there now, and I'd like to get to my little cabin before the passes are blocked. Besides, now that Otto's dead, Willow and her mother will be arriving any day to resume ranching. I'd like to be gone by then."
"I feel almost as good as I did before—"
"That's fine, Cailyn," Logan broke in on her faltering words. "We'll start today getting our trail supplies together."
"Oh, Logan, I can't wait to start a new life." Cailyn looked at him, her eyes shimmering with happiness. "I feel that way too, Cailyn." Logan patted her knee, but wondered inside if he was setting himself up for heartache.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Willow yawned as she helped Ruth get ready for her wedding. Her mother had shaken her awake at dawn to help her decide what dress she should wear. She had first made herself a cup of coffee and had seen, through the kitchen window, lamplight in the bunkhouse. She smiled, wondering if Rooster was also trying to decide what to wear.
Ruth finally put on a dark blue suit; then it was time to fix her hair.
"Ma." Willow scolded, "If you don't sit still, I'll never get your hair fancied up."
"I can't help it. I'm so excited, I feel like I'm going to suffocate."
"You musn't do that. Rooster would be so disappointed, holding a dead woman in his arms on his wedding night," Willow teased.
Ruth's response was to reach behind her and pinch Willow on the bottom. She turned serious then. "Willow, I'm so afraid that old memories will interfere with my happiness in being married to Rooster."
"Ma, you musn't let them." Willow laid her hands on Ruth's shoulders and gazed earnestly at Ruth's reflection in the mirror. "You must put those nightmare years behind you. Happiness has been a long time coming to you. Don't let the memories of Pa ruin it for you."
"I keep telling myself that, but my hurt went so deep, I don't know if I can ever forget it."
"You will, Ma. Life with Rooster will be so different, in time you'll forget your old life ever existed."
"I hope you're right, and I hope that someday you'll be as happy as I am today. You deserve happiness too. I thought for a while that you might find it with Jules."
"Jules," Willow scoffed. "There's not a woman alive that one could make happy. He's too intent on what makes him happy."
Ruth shook her head sadly. "I would have sworn that he loved you."
"Be careful what you swear to, Ma," Willow said, a bitter note in her voice. "Especially if it has anything to do with Jules Asher.
"Now, I've got to get ready for your big day. I haven't even decided what to wear."
"You should wear that blue velvet dress you treated yourself to when you sold the cattle."
"Yes, I could wear that. I've regretted many times that I bought it. It was a needless extravagance, but it will come in handy now. I guess all I have to worry about is what to do with my hair."
"Your hair is lovely just as it is, curling around your shoulders and down your back."
"You're probably right. I'll just give it a good brushing," Willow said as she left Ruth still looking at herself in the mirror.
Willow hurried down the short hall toward her room. Rooster had insisted that everyone be at the church by nine o'clock, and it was already quarter after eight.
As she sped past Jules's door, it opened and she ran full-tilt into him.
"Hey, what's your hurry?" He laughed, taking her by the waist to steady her.
"I'm in a hurry to get ready for the wedding." She tried to pull away from him.
"I have to get ready too," Jules said thickly, his hands hot on her waist. "Rooster asked me to stand up with him."
"He did?" Willow's exclamation of surprise turned into a gasp. Jules had brought her so close to his body that she could feel the heat and the ridge of his full-blown maleness.
She pressed her hands against his chest, and her eyes shot angry sparks as she ground out, "If you don't let me go, I'll slap you silly."
"I think I'll chance that," Jules muttered, and transferring his hands to her bottom, he brought her up tightly between his legs. When she parted her lips to protest, his mouth swept down and seared hotly across them.
She was outraged one minute, her fists pounding his shoulders and back, and then the next minute she was melting into him with a passion that matched his.
It took Ruth's call to bring them both back to earth. Jules dropped his hands and Willow sprang away from him. Wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, she hissed, "Don't ever try that again."
"Why not? You liked it."
"I did not!"
"Yes, you did, Willow. You wanted me as desperately as I want you."
"You're crazy," Willow retorted, and turnin
g around, she hurried back down the hall.
"What do you want, Ma?" She looked at Ruth, who still sat in front of the mirror.
"I was wondering, dear, if it's too cold out for me to wear a hat. I hate to mess my hair, covering it with my woolen scarf."
"Wear the hat, Ma," Willow said, her voice a little shaken. "Take your scarf with you to wear back to the house."
Willow walked down the hall again, thinking how such a little insignificant thing as a hat had saved her from making a fool of herself.
The church was icy cold as Rooster and Ruth led the way into the large building. Following behind them were Willow and Jules and Corrie Mae and the ranch hands. There would be no one else attending the ceremony. There hadn't been time to notify their friends and neighbors about what was going to take place.
As everyone gathered around the potbellied stove, whose heat didn't reach more than four feet away, Willow wondered why she and her mother had taken such pains about what to wear today. No one dared take off their coats.
Rooster looked toward the door. There was impatience in his voice when he said gruffly, "I wonder what's holding the preacher up."
Willow saw the mischievous look that popped into Jimmy's eyes and knew he was about to make some remark, like, "Are you in a hurry to start your honeymoon, Rooster?" She caught the teenager's attention and shook her head at him. He blushed and looked away and kept his mouth shut.
The door opened then, bringing in a blast of cold air behind Reverend Moser. "I'm sorry I'm late, folks," he said as he hurried toward the pulpit. "My milch cow decided to drop her calf this morning and she needed some help."
Removing a heavy shawl from around his balding head, Reverend Moser opened his worn bible and motioned Rooster and Ruth to stand in front of him. Willow and Jules joined them, and then the preacher began, "Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here…"
Willow felt a slight trembling in her mother's body. Was it nervousness or happiness? she wondered. She glanced at Rooster. There was no doubt that the big man was in the grip of pure happiness. His entire being shouted it. Behind her she heard Corrie Mae sobbing softly, and she wondered what was going through her mind.