by Nan Ryan
The cold north wind swept down over the prairie, its sound mournful, its bite punishing, forcing Suzette from the balcony and into her room. There she spent most of her time, seated in front of the closed double doors, her hands clasped together in her lap, her eyes still tiredly sweeping over the bleak horizon. Her pain, no longer the intense agony of those first weeks, remained with her but became bearable in the same way one grows accustomed to an old wound.
Suzette knew Austin suffered too, and she was compassionate enough to have sympathy for him. She was grateful that he didn’t force himself on her, that he was kind and thoughtful, as he had always been. Unfortunately, Austin refused to let her tell him the truth about what had happened in her absence. Suzette had no desire to lie and hide the facts, but Austin stubbornly turned a deaf ear when she tried to bare her soul to him. Since the day he’d taken her from the Cathedral Peak cabin, Austin had successfully kept himself from hearing about her real relationship with Kaytano. It was as though if he refused to let her form the words and say them to him, he could continue to tell himself nothing had happened between her and her dark captor.
Suzette had long since tired of trying to tell Austin the truth. He didn’t want to listen. He was, as he had always been, determined to mold and shape her into his dream of perfection, his golden madonna, his innocent little girl. Clinging obstinately to his idealized, romanticized conception of her, he demanded she remain on the pedestal where he’d so carefully placed her. A silken, blond young angel would never cavort willingly with a dark, dirty, degenerate devil! His precious Suzette would never cavort with the renegade Kaytano!
On a cold, dark Sunday in December, Austin knocked lightly on Suzette’s door. He stepped inside and walked directly to the fireplace. “Suzette, I’m afraid you’ll catch a cold,” he said, looking at the dying embers in the grate. He took several big pinion logs from the box and placed them in the fire. With a silver-handled poker, he stirred the smoldering ashes and watched as flames leaped upward, sending out warmth. “There,” he said, smiling. “That’s better, isn’t it?”
Suzette, sitting in a chair with a book on her lap, nodded. “Thank you, Austin.”
“You’re most welcome.” He dropped into the matching chair beside her, his big hands nervously smoothing the brocade pattern on the chair’s arms. “I’ve been thinking, what you and I need is to have a party.”
Suzette opened her mouth to object, but when she saw the hopeful, pleading look in his gray eyes, she remained silent. “Do you remember the New Year’s party we had here the winter we first moved in?” Austin continued eagerly.
He was looking at her, expecting an answer. Twisting her book in her hands, she nodded. “Yes, Austin, I remember.”
“Now, that was a party!” He leaned toward her, a broad smile on his face. “I’ll never forget, you wore the prettiest lilac velvet dress. You looked like some sweet confection and all evening long I was tempted to…I wanted to…ah, remember how the whole town turned out? I’ll bet they’d do the same thing this New Year’s.” He rose from the chair and walked to the double doors. His hands clamped behind him, he continued to speak enthusiastically of throwing a party. Suzette felt dread creeping over her as he spoke. The last thing on earth she wanted was to be around other people, especially the people of Jacksboro, people she’d known all of her life, had attended church with every Sunday since she was a little girl. The thought of facing them made Suzette ill; she’d not been out since returning. She’d been allowed to remain safely isolated from the outside world, seeing no one but Austin and Kate. Now Austin was speaking of bringing the whole town to her sanctuary.
Austin had turned to her, an expectant look on his face. She knew he was waiting for her answer, but she didn’t know what the question was. “I…I’m sorry, Austin, I…”
“No, Suzette,” he pleaded, “don’t say no. It’ll do you good, dear. Tell me to go ahead with the plans. Let’s have our New Year’s party. Say yes, Suzette.”
“All right, Austin,” she said flatly.
“Oh, sweetheart!” He beamed and rushed to her chair. “You won’t regret it. It will be a grand party. You and Kate can plan the menu and I’ll see about an orchestra. We’ll see the new year in properly!”
Time passed and day of the party drew near. Austin was hopeful and excited. He felt that a gala party would help signal a return to happier days. He was pleased to see that Suzette was helping Kate plan what foods would be served; he was sure it was a step in the right direction.
Feeling cautiously optimistic, Austin stopped by Suzette’s room one cold evening to say good-night. She opened the door and watched nervously as he strolled inside. “I was wondering,” he said warmly, “what you plan to wear to the party.”
Suzette didn’t tell him that she hadn’t considered what gown she would wear because she didn’t care. The thought had never entered her mind; to her the party was a chore to be gotten through. What difference did it make what she wore? “I…no, Austin, I’m not sure yet.”
“Good.” He grinned. “I was just thinking, if you still have that lovely lilac gown you wore to the…”
“That will be fine, Austin.” She nodded her head. “I’ll wear the lilac velvet dress.”
Pleased she had so quickly agreed, he said, “Suzette, I…there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”
“All right. Would you like to sit down?”
“No, I’ll stay only a minute. I know you’re tired and need your sleep.” He walked to the door and turned to face her. Needlessly clearing his throat, he said, “Suzette, I’ve missed being a husband to you. You’ve been through a lot, so I haven’t pressed you.” He looked at the floor for a moment, then raised his head. Looking directly into her eyes, he said, “On New Year’s I thought perhaps we could start all over. We’ll have our party and then afterward…afterward I want to come to you, Suzette. I want to make love to you that night.”
“Austin, I…” she began.
“You’re my wife, Suzette.”
“Yes, Austin, but you must let me tell you…”
“No, darlin’,” he interrupted. “You’re my wife. I’ll come to you New Year’s Eve.” He left the room.
When the night of the party came, Suzette, wearing the lilac velvet dress, stood in front of the cheval glass in her bedroom. Studying herself disinterestedly, she noted how loose the gown was. She’d lost weight since she’d last worn it; she could recall on that occasion it was so tight in the waist and bodice, she had been uncomfortable. Now she needed no corset with it. Suzette tried to jerk the low bodice up to cover more of her bare bosom. She was futilely tugging when Austin’s loud knock startled her.
“Suzette,” he called, “the first guests are arriving.”
By nine o’clock it was apparent even to Austin that less than half the expected guests had shown up. The rest never came. Suzette knew the reason; so did Austin. Some gentlemen came without their wives, staying only a short time, making flimsy excuses about how the cold weather or illness had prevented their attendance. The Brands were not fooled. The unmistakable truth was that Mrs. Austin Brand had lived for months with an Indian. Whether her fault or not, the unalterable facts were that she was no longer considered fit company for the decent ladies.
Of the guests who did call, Suzette suspected many came out of curiosity. There was an accusing look in their eyes when they greeted her, and throughout the evening she could feel their eyes upon her, stripping her bare, branding her with their disgust. Clumps of whispering men brazenly eyed her behind Austin’s back, and Suzette, feeling she could bear it no more, fled to the kitchen.
Suzette was horrified to find a twittering bunch of ladies in the kitchen, giggling and bobbing their heads up and down. All eyes turned to her and they fell silent. One of the bolder ladies, the respected wife of a banker, stepped away from the others. She came directly to Suzette and slipped her arm through Suzette’s trembling one. Looking at Suzette with false pity, she said sweetly, �
��Suzette, dear, perhaps if you spoke of it, you’d feel better. Get it off your chest, so to speak.” She looked hopefully at Suzette while the other ladies crowded around, all eager to hear firsthand what Suzette’s confinement had been like. “We’re your friends, you can tell us. Was it terrible? Did the beast…did he…well, you know?”
Suzette’s trembling ceased. She looked about at the eager faces turned to her, all dying to hear in detail what a dirty savage had done. Suzette felt more disgust for them than they could ever have felt for her. It would be with great pleasure that she shocked their delicate sensitivities.
“Oh, thank you,” she began, making her voice sound purposely grateful and relieved. “I do want to tell you all about it.” The women grew wide-eyed and moved closer to Suzette. They became very quiet, dying to hear what vile things the Indian had done to her.
Suzette began to talk, whispering low, making them strain to catch her provocative words. She made up the wildest, worst stories she could think of, shocking them with her confessions that the filthy savage had made her do such despicable things that she was no longer fit to be in the same room with the gentry of Jacksboro. Spellbound, the ladies listened as she told them that the Indian’s exotic tortures were so debased and loathsome that she wasn’t sure they would want to hear more.
“Oh, please, we do,” one woman pleaded. “That is…it would do you a world of good to share it.” The others hastily agreed.
Suzette looked from one plain, questioning face to another. Coldly she announced, “You all make me want to retch. Each of you wants to live vicariously by hearing how the infamous Kaytano repeatedly raped me. You can each imagine yourself the one being ravished and brutalized by the handsome half-breed.” Suzette laughed when they began to protest, shaking their heads, declaring Suzette wrong. “If you knew the truth,” Suzette announced, “you’d be envious. I’ll tell you something else…Kaytano never raped a woman in his life.” Suzette turned to go.
The banker’s wife said, “You mean you made it all up? He never did those things to you, he never…he never even…”
Suzette pivoted. “Made love to me? Oh, yes, he did that every night and it was wonderful.” She laughed and left the room. She was still laughing when she climbed the stairs to her room, not bothering to say good-night to her guests.
It was much later, when the guests had all departed, that Austin came into her bedroom. She stood in front of the double doors wearing a sheer blue nightgown. She took a deep breath and turned to face him.
He was looking at her and in his gray eyes was an expression that chilled her blood. She’d seen that look in the eyes of many of the guests at the party. It was a faint look of disapproval, of censure, of disgust. He started toward her and she stiffened. She’d not expected this night to be easy, but it would be even worse than she thought. The look in Austin’s eyes made it unbearable.
Silently he put his hands on her shoulders and stepped close. “It was a nice party,” he said without conviction.
“Was it?” She looked up at him. “Half the people didn’t come.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said and lowered his face to hers. He hesitated, his mouth inches from hers. A muscle worked furiously in his jaw. And in his eyes was that look. He closed his eyes and started to kiss her.
“No,” she said, pulling back. “Wait. Wait, Austin.” Suzette took a step backward and jerked the bodice of her gown down to her waist, all the while looking into Austin’s eyes.
“Don’t, Suzette,” he said. “Wait. I’ll put out the lights.”
She grabbed his arm. “No. Leave the lights on.” She shoved the pale blue nightgown over her hips, and wiggling out of it, she let it drop to the floor at her feet. She stood naked in front of him.
“Suzette, my God, don’t…”
“Look at me, Austin!” she shouted. “Look at me.” She watched his gray eyes slowly slide over her body. “You look ill, Austin. Are you sick? Does my body make you sick?!”
His face tortured, Austin said, “Please…put on your—”
“No. Take a good look at me. Don’t you think I see the disgust in your eyes? I disgust you, you can’t bear to look at me.” She was trembling now. “Well, let me really disgust you! Kaytano didn’t rape me, he didn’t have to rape me. I gave myself to him and I slept in his arms every night.” Suzette’s eyes were wild as she finally poured out the truth. Her hands went to her bare belly. “Look at my stomach; I carried Kaytano’s child, Austin. Did you know that? I was pregnant by Kaytano. I lost it and it broke my heart! I wanted his baby!”
“God, don’t…no more, please.” Austin pleaded, the color draining from his face.
“There is no more. That’s all, Austin. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you since the day I got back, but you wouldn’t listen.”
Austin inhaled and stooped to pick up the discarded nightgown. Rising, he handed it to her, his eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and contempt. Suzette took the gown and held it in front of her.
Calmly, she said, “I am going to Fort Worth tomorrow. I’ll stay with Anna for a while. It will be better for both of us to be apart for a time.”
Austin turned to leave, his big shoulders drooping wearily. At the door he turned and looked at her. The distaste was gone from his eyes; now there remained only sad resignation. “Yes,” he said tiredly, “perhaps it would be best.”
39
Suzette felt an alarming surge of excitement as she leaned over the roulette table and pushed three shiny yellow chips onto the black square with number eleven painted boldly in white. Her palms felt moist and it was difficult to suppress the hysterical laughter threatening to burst from her parted lips. It was foolish, she knew, to feel such an overwhelming thrill over a game of chance. But the sensation was there, just as it always was when she placed a bet in a casino or watched a sleek Thoroughbred flash across the finish line. Since the first time Suzette had gambled at the casino in Saratoga, she’d been hooked. Now, when there was little left in life that brought her pleasure, gambling could still lift her spirits and make her heart beat just a little faster.
Tonight, for reasons she couldn’t fathom, she felt more excitement than usual. It was as though she was certain that her lucky number eleven would come up, and with it would not only come money, but fulfillment, joy, happiness. So sure was she that number eleven was the number to pick, she idly wondered why, of all the people crowding around the table, laughing and placing their bets, not one was wise enough to bet with her. Anna, standing beside her, was happily dropping chips up and down the felt layout, passing over eleven, leaving only Suzette’s chips riding there. Perry was just as blind to the number.
After allowing everyone ample time to deposit chips on their favorite numbers, the croupier smiled and said, “Last call, ladies and gentlemen. Place your bets, please.” His manicured right hand went to the tiny white ball to spin it furiously around and around the turning varnished wheel. While the ball flew rapidly about the circle, a long arm reached out from behind Suzette. A man’s black-jacketed, white-cuffed hand dropped a single red chip atop Suzette’s three yellow chips. She alone was watching as the lean, brown fingers gently caressed the three yellow chips before letting his drop. She was hypnotized by the graceful long-fingered hand; she stared unbelieving when a slight flick of the wrist sent a gold chain from under the white stiff shirt cuff. The tiny chain shimmered against the dark brown of the skin. A gold locket, one lone sapphire at its center, lay on the slender wrist.
The hand moved slowly away. Suzette’s heart began to pound wildly and her hand flew to her bosom. She could feel the heat of his trim body though they were not touching. Kaytano! Her heart screamed the name tearing at her aching throat. Dear God, you’re alive! She swayed slightly, but was helpless to right herself. From just behind, he moved, steadying her immediately. His hard chest was gently pressing her bare back and shoulders; his thigh and knee gave sure support to her hips and rubbery legs.
Her face flushed, her
cheeks crimson, she swallowed and closed her eyes briefly. Knowing she had to look at him, if only for a second, she opened her eyes and slowly turned her head. All eyes were on the spinning white ball, save hers. And Kaytano’s. Her eyes lifted to his and she moaned softly. His dark beautiful eyes were on her. His handsome dark face wore a look of love, a look she’d seen so many times when he’d made love to her throughout the hot, desert nights. His mouth was parted in a hint of a smile. A shock of black hair fell over his high forehead, thick and shiny with health. His face was smoothly shaven, his breath warm on her cheek.
The dear hand that placed the red chip atop hers unobtrusively touched her forearm, then slid down her gloved wrist to her hand. Still looking only into her eyes, Kaytano pressed a key into her palm, and closed her shaking fingers tightly around it. His hand left hers and just as the white ball came to rest in a slot on the slowing roulette wheel, he slipped away into the crowd.
“Number eleven, folks,” the smiling croupier announced. “It’s lucky number eleven for the lovely lady and the handsome gentleman.” He looked up at Suzette and pushed a tall shiny stack of chips across the table to her. His eyes darted above her head, then came back to rest on her. “The gentleman he said questioningly.
Unable to speak, Suzette shrugged her shoulders. “That’s strange”—the man was insistent—“I saw a well-dressed gentleman place that red chip on eleven. Now he’s gone.” He looked around, shook his head, and paid off the red chip at thirty-five to one, setting the stack to the side.
Suzette, her throat dry, her left hand gripping the key tightly, didn’t stop to question whether she would go to Kaytano. She knew as soon as she’d seen his hand that she had to be with him. It didn’t matter that it was wrong, that Austin would be terribly hurt, that Anna and Perry would be shocked by her shameless behavior. It made no difference; nothing in all the world made any difference except Kaytano. She was his and his alone. They were one; nothing and no one could change that.