by Rita Hestand
"She's black. Blacks aren't allowed in here, son." Richard smiled at Nadine sarcastically.
Nadine's eyes widened. Gabe took her hand and started to walk out, but Dakota stopped them.
"No, you will sit up front for the performance each and every time. I will see to it, personally. Sorry Mayor. Mr. Montgomery has no rules against it. If you want to take it up with him, then do so. But I'm not taking them out, in fact, I'm seating them up front. She happens to be a close friend of Miss Hilton's. Miss Hilton requested she be here. So I'm not taking them out, Mayor. Sorry."
Dakota escorted Nadine and Gabe to a front seat and Nadine smiled at him and thanked him.
Maggie cringed. The nerve of Richard!
But she was proud of Dakota standing up to him and putting him in his place. She just fell in love with Dakota a little more tonight.
After Maggie's performance she stayed late to gather her music and pick out a wardrobe for the next performance when she saw Dakota catching his cat to him.
She walked up to him. It was time to find out where she stood with the man and if there would ever be a future with him. But how did one go about it when there were so many reasons not to have that future with him? When good sense alone would mean he would reject her.
He stared at her when she came close.
"So, how did you like the song?" She silently hoped he hadn't noticed the tremor in her voice.
"The song?" he questioned. He seemed preoccupied and yet his gaze was steady.
"Yes, Shenandoah? I sang it for you." Her voice died away as disappointment lingered. Obviously he hadn't even noticed.
His glance was both bold and assessing, his eyes glittering from the flicker of a nearby lamp. "Oh yes, the song. It was beautiful. But…I didn't know you sang it for me."
His gaze rested on her questioning expression.
"Well, I knew you liked it." She smiled unable to meet his gaze. "I sought you out from the others when I sang it. It was for you!"
"For me…" His voice lowered seductively. "You sang it for….me?"
He was surprised. Hadn't he asked her to sing it for him?
"Yes, just for you." She smiled raising her head and looking into his dark eyes. "And for the wonderful thing you did for my friends tonight."
But now his look penetrated through.
"You're pleased?"
"Very much so. Nadine is special to me, and always will be. So are you." She barely murmured.
His eyes met hers. "You have an amazing voice, but that song—" He said, "reaches out to a person. I find myself humming it every now and then."
"It does, doesn't it?" She reflected relaxing once more.
When a silence elapsed she sighed heavily and turned to leave. He didn't seem to want to engage in conversation with her, his mind seemed elsewhere tonight. "Well, goodnight…" She called over her shoulder as she walked toward the door. "Oh, wait a minute, I wanted to thank you for tonight."
"Thank me? For what?"
"Well for Nadine. For standing up for her. That took a lot of guts and I was never prouder when I saw you seat her up front. That's another reason the Mayor and I won't be seeing each other again. He sees color."
He grinned. "Glad I could help."
She started walking for the door when his words stopped her.
But his velvet voice held a challenge that stopped her abruptly.
"Y-you wanted to see where my cat lives…?" he asked softly.
She turned around and looked at him. There was more than just that question in his eyes. She knew that. She swallowed and turned to look at him. "Y-yes, I-I would love to."
He stared at her a long moment as though giving her time to change her mind.
He walked up to her, took her by the elbow and guided her up the long stairway. His hand at her elbow was light, as though still giving her time to change her mind. At the top of the stairs, he looked at her again the question between them obvious. When she didn't falter or hesitate. He led her down a long hallway to the end. He shot her a penetrating glance, "This is it."
She stared at him through the darkness. She took her hand and put it over his and he opened the door.
She swallowed hard, this could change everything, she knew it in her heart, but she was ready to find out just how she stood with him. She had to know. If he didn't return her love, then she would move on, maybe even leave Vada and start new somewhere. Although her singing career would come to a halt. She was sure she couldn’t' live in the same town as Dakota if he didn't return her feelings. And yet, were they at the point to even discuss that yet? Maybe she was rushing things.
She walked in and waited for him to light a lamp.
She had no idea what to expect but what she found made her very aware of the man and who he really was. It was immaculately clean room. His bed was made and a beautiful quilt covered it. One wall was a library of books. She marveled at them. He read. He was self-educating himself, obviously. It shocked her just how much he read.
"Have you read most of them?" She asked as her hand went over the books fingering one occasionally.
"I've read them all." He answered just behind her.
"All of them. My…" She gasped and turned to look at him. "You do have a profound speaking voice. You are an amazing man, a fascinating man, Dakota. "
"I appreciate the compliment. But exactly what were you expecting to see here, Indian drums and headgear. A dream-catcher over my bed. A deerskin shirt and leggings."
"No, or course not," She felt immediately defensive. "I'm not sure what I expected." She turned around, away from him. "I find you very intelligent, well read, and very American. I didn't come to spy on you or your personal life at all. I'm sorry if I've offended you in any way. It wasn't my intention."
"Forgive me, I'm a little sensitive I guess. I've never brought a white woman up here."
Had he brought an Indian maiden? Oh how she wanted to ask.
She nodded. So she was the first to come into his room, that made her heart quicken.
"When I learned to read, I was so fascinated with it, and promised myself I would indulge in reading all the time. I spend hours with books."
"There's a great variety here. What do you prefer to read?" She asked whirling about for his answer.
"Tragedies, comedies and romance." His eyes sparkled into hers.
"I believe that. And you have…the bible even."
"Does that surprise you?" He asked coming closer.
"Well, I don't know, I really don't have any idea what you believe in."
He smiled down into her face, with an arrogant raised brow. "I believe in God, don't you?"
"Yes! I do." She turned back toward the books so he couldn't see her every expression.
His head twisted as though in question, as though he hadn't expected that question.
"They taught us about your God in missionary school and I began reading the bible, although, I'll admit, when I began it was over my head, but the missionaries were very helpful as they saw I was hungry for the knowledge that lies within it."
When she turned the bed seemed to stare out at her once again. She drew another deep breath. She couldn't help but wonder if it had red sheets.
There was a rocking chair to one side of the big bed as she turned around. Her breath hitched, imagining them in that bed, she couldn't take her mind off of it. The bed seemed to crowd her, take over her imagination.
"You don't sleep here, though." She asked as she moved about the room more freely now.
"Sometimes. A bed seems lonely to me. Especially one so large. A bed that size should be shared."
Again the picture of them sharing his bed, flashed before her eyes, like a temptation. She closed her eyes and the dreams filled her imagination.
She tried to lock the bed out of her mind but those words made her picture it so clearly, the two of them, in that bed, making passionate love. Her cheeks flamed suddenly.
She moved to the other side of the room, it held a bur
eau, with a washbowl on one side, a small mirror above it, a comb for his hair. A stove was in the far corner, and a pot to make coffee with. Two cups hung on the wall. She wondered if anyone else used those cups.
"It's a lovely room." She suddenly came face to face with him. And the room seemed to spin for a moment as her eyes locked on him.
"I'm happy with it. It used to be an old storage room. That's why it is bigger than some of the other rooms."
"And where does your cat sleep?"
"On the floor. Animals belong on the floor. I had to teach that to her. And it took some time."
"I didn't know you could teach a cat anything." She murmured.
"It was not an easy task, but she curls up on the rug now. The only thing that belongs in a bed is a man and a woman."
The implications of his words had her breathing hard. She tried to calm down. Tried to think of something else, but it remained.
Her eyes sought his now. "Yes, I suppose you are right."
She had to be bold, if she wanted any answers from him.
"And where is the woman that will share your bed?" She asked breathlessly.
He glanced at the things in her arms, then stared into her eyes. Slowly he took the things from her arms and laid them on the bed.
She gulped.
"White women…." He said slowly, "seek engagements, sometimes very long ones, then marriage to follow. Is that not so?"
"Yes, I suppose most do." She answered trying to remove herself from her thinking.
"Most, not all?" He questioned, quirking his head to the side in question.
"Not all." She barely whispered. The electricity between them sizzled in the air, barely touching the skin, but touching. She drew breath as he stared at her.
She felt those little electric shocks running up and down her body.
He sighed aloud, as though exasperated.
"You are the last of the brides, are you not?"
"Yes," She felt his eyes travel her. It was the way they traveled her, for he looked into her eyes as though asking permission to gaze upon her. She wore a plain gingham dress of cotton. Every nerve in her body responded to his look. His glance was seductive, suggestive, inviting. "I guess I am. I thought I'd be married right away. But it hasn't worked out that way. You see, despite what it might look like to others. I'm not after marrying for money. Oh, I'll admit, I was at first. But I discovered that money won't give me what I really seek."
"And what is it that you seek?" He asked, as his eyes raked her.
"The same as most women." She turned away so he couldn't see the tear in her eye. "Love!"
The word hung between them for endless seconds.
"And," He turned her around now to look more deeply into that unshed tear. "Have you found it?"
"I'm not sure—I've never known real love. So it's hard to say for sure. But…I'm hopeful." She admitted, swallowing hard. Her heart hammered in her ears. Her breaths coming rapidly the nearer he came.
"What are you sure about?" He asked.
"What do you mean?"
"You said you were not sure about real love, what are you sure about then?"
"I don't know, my career, what I want out of life."
"Tell me about your family…was there love there?" He asked, moving a tad away from her.
She hung her head and again turned away to let the tear slide down her cheek. "My mother died early on…I barely remember what she looked like, and my father…I'd just soon not talk about."
"You are not proud of him?" He asked coming closer now.
"No, I'm not proud of him." She answered dully and turned to stare into his dark brooding eyes.
"You speak of your father as though you do not like him." He asked as he sat on the edge of the bed and studied her.
Talking about her father was the last thing she wanted to discuss. "I don't like talking about him." She tried to keep the bitterness from her voice.
He stood up and came closer, "Was he unkind. Did he beat you?"
"Y-yes." It was a cold flat answer with no feelings.
"He beat you? He scarred your beautiful body?"
She tried to walk away, but he wouldn't let her. "Only when he didn't get what he wanted."
"I do not understand!" He said as though it disturbed him.
"M-my father, oh, it's no use. I shouldn't have come up here." She fretted and turned to leave. But she had no more than taken two steps and his voice stopped her.
"Why did you?" His voice stopped her.
"I don't know…" She turned to look sincerely at him. "I guess I wanted to get to know you better."
"Why?" His question was simple, but so complicated.
"I really should go now." She cried.
"The door's not locked, you can walk out anytime. But…I must tell you this. What you seek is not possible. You must know this." His reprimand was soft, silky soft but a warning too.
Her heart fell, and another tear slid down her cheek. Her head hung. Humiliation was close. She nodded slowly.
"I must tell you this. For you walk with your heart open." His hands reached to pull her back against him, as his hands wrapped around her and wandered toward the outline of her breast. She wore no corset to enclose herself, and his hand slowly methodically closed around the full globe of her breasts. She heard his hitched breath as he touched her there. Afraid to react but unable to stop her own body from responding her nipples hardened as his thumbs caressed the already hard nubs of her nipples. She leaned her head back against his broad chest and sighed aloud. Her breasts swelled against the soft kneading of his hands. His lips grazed her temple. She closed her eyes and savored the moments between them. He drew a hard breath, "I have kissed them and laved them in my dreams."
"Yes," she sighed the word, not wanting the moment to end. And yet his warning stayed her from moving.
She could hardly breath, and then she realized. "Dreams…oh my God, you know, about my dreams." She whirled around and stared at him.
"Our dreams," He corrected softly.
She looked shocked, embarrassed, and yet, they had shared the dream? How could that be?
"You better go…while you still can." He said with a rasp.
She looked at him and moved silently away. "Yes, I better go now" But she turned slightly and didn't look straight at him but on the floor and said, "Dakota, it's not impossible…."
His head jerked up and their eyes met across the room.
"Goodnight."
Chapter Ten
Was it possible? Had they shared the dreams?
She went home that night and told Ma all about it.
"And despite what a man he is, he's still Indian. So, the big question is, what are you going to do now?"
Maggie nodded. "I've never had erotic dreams with any man, Ma. And I had no idea…. we somehow…shared them."
Ma studied her face, "You do love him, don't you?"
"Ma, I don't know. What I feel for him is more powerful than anything I've ever felt before. I want to know more. I mean, I saw his library of books, and he's read every one of them. His room is neat and clean. Everything is in its place." She admitted. "I so want to know more about him. I want to know—everything. He's a man that knows God. I know that."
"In the bible, Moses took a woman of color. God did not condemn him, neither will I condemn your love for this man, honey. But I will warn you that if anyone finds out, you will have pure hell from people around here."
Maggie nodded. "It is a small price for love."
"Maggie darlin', I love you like my own. I love all you girls and I only want what is best. But if this is what you want, you have my blessings. Only, please, be careful. What you want, could destroy you as easily as make you happy."
"I know that Ma. But what can I do, I love him?" Maggie smiled at her. "And thank you Ma. I was afraid to tell you. Afraid you would be ashamed of me. When I came here I wanted a better life. I wanted to better myself. To be a lady. But things have changed now. It isn't a
question of bettering myself but being true to myself. I love him, and I can't turn my back on that. It's too powerful. And yet, I'm not sure how he feels."
There was a silence and then Maggie sort of smiled. "Did you see what he did for Nadine?"
"I saw it. He sure put Richard in his place. He's a good man, Maggie. You'd have to be blind not to see that."
"I love him Ma."
"I can understand that, but, you don't want just an affair with him, do you?"
"No, if I commit to him, then I want more. I'm not saying I know what kind of life I would have with him. I don't. I'm saying of all the men I've known, he's the one I want to know."
"Promise me, you will marry him, somehow, someway, by someone if you are going to live with him. Even if it's an Indian Chief that does the marrying."
"I promise that."
"Then that's enough." Ma nodded. "But one thing I wonder."
Maggie looked at her face that seemed clouded with doubts.
"What is it?"
"If he wanted to take you to his village and live. Would you go? Would you live with his people, because living with yours would cause you nothing but grief?"
Maggie thought about it a bit, "If I marry him, I will go where he leads. But we're putting the cart before the horse. He hasn't asked me. He's hasn't made a commitment to me yet. Maybe I'm foolish for letting this go further. Maybe I should try to stop this now, but I'm not sure I can. Oh Ma, what should I do?"
Ma nodded. "No matter what you do about this man, stay in touch with me about it."
"I will." She smiled.
But Ma fretted over this news all morning. Maggie didn't know all the pitfalls of marrying an Indian. What woman did?
***
Maggie thought about all the things she and Dakota had shared. It was eye opening seeing his room. Although she hadn't expected drums or leggings in his room, she had expected maybe a Indian necklace or something to show he was part Indian, instead it looked very much like any man's room, except for the books. He had a lot of books. Not many men she knew read books.
There were so many things she'd liked to have known, but it was her first visit and she couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever invite her up again.