Music Of Her Heart

by Sophie Dawson

  Gema was waiting outside on the porch when Red rode up to the House. The Ladies, as well as most of the children, were there as well. As he dismounted, general hugging and words of farewell were exchanged. Ozzie Basking held Hania’s reins while Red tied Gema’s valise onto the back of the saddle opposite his.

  “Come on, honey.” Red took Gema’s hand and said goodbye and thank you to the Ladies. “You’ll ride in front like we did coming from the shack.” The smile she gave him said she approved of the position.

  Red gave her a leg up, and when Gema was settled, he mounted. The fit with both of them in the saddle was snug. This time he didn’t have to worry about propriety. He could pull her close to him. Then again, that might not be such a good idea.

  Ozzie handed him the reins, and with a wave, Red kicked the horse into motion.

  ~~~~~

  Gema sat stiffly in the saddle. Red had an arm around her waist and was holding her close against him. When they’d ridden from the shack, both had tried to keep whatever little distance they could between them. She knew Red had sat on the back slope of the saddle then. Now, however, he was more down on the seat.

  “Gema, relax, or your back is going to ache by the time we get there.”

  Red’s words startled her out of her thoughts. How could she say she was nervous about them being so close together? She thought of how they had been when she woke up that morning. Her cheeks flamed. At least he wouldn’t be able to see since her bonnet shielded her face from view.

  Gema thought back to their mornings in the line shack. She knew they had slept tangled together there, too. She just hoped Red didn’t know. Each morning she had awakened before it was light, needing the chamber pot. When she got back in bed, Gema had laid on the edge of the bed, as far from Red as she could get. Since he was always gone when she next awoke, Gema was certain he never knew they cuddled so close in the night.

  “Come on, Gema, lean back against me. It’s fine. We’re married. It’ll be more comfortable for both of us.”

  Even though he couldn’t see her face, Gema shyly dropped her head a bit and relaxed. She leaned back and rested against his chest. His arm tightened around her waist.

  “That’s my girl.”

  Gema thought she felt a kiss on the back of her head, but through the bonnet and her hairdo, she wasn’t sure.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  It had only been a week, but Gema loved living on the ranch, at least so far. They had been welcomed by Hawk Connor, Red’s boss, Alberto and Juanita Valdez, the head wrangler and housekeeper, as well as all the cowboys. Red had been teased about how pretty Gema was, and why she’d marry someone like him who was as ugly as a mud fence. She hadn’t understood since she thought Red was quite handsome, though she’d never tell him.

  Hawk invited them to have supper with him and the Valdez’s that evening. He told Gema that if they wanted to eat with them every meal that would be acceptable. He’d appreciate it if she helped Juanita whenever they were going to be joining them.

  During the week, she and the Mexican housekeeper became acquainted. Juanita didn’t speak English and had a difficult time understanding Gema’s. They’d begun to use some hand signals to communicate.

  Inspiration struck, and Gema began saying the names of everything they used. Soon, Juanita was learning the English words and Gema the Spanish. They laughed a lot at their mistakes. Now, Gema knew the Spanish word for every vegetable they planted in the garden and Juanita knew the English.

  It was late afternoon on Sunday. Red had gone to tend to some chores. Gema was wandering around the homestead, getting ready to shoo the chickens into the chicken house for the night. Music floated from behind the bunkhouse. Gema abandoned the chickens and ran to the end of the building peeking around the corner. Red had asked her not to invade the cowboy’s areas. They were a rough lot, and might not watch their language as well as they should around her.

  Oh, how she wanted to approach the man who she thought was named Jeb. He was playing a violin. It was poorly tuned, but he was playing with enthusiasm. She thought the song was something about camptowns and races. It was one she was familiar with from Sanctuary Place. The words she’d never been able to follow, but the tune was lively, and everyone danced to it.

  “Well, missy, you like the fiddle?”

  Gema startled and looked at the man standing behind her. It was Cookie. His name said it all. He was the cook for the cowboys. Big in height and girth, gray-haired, with a shaggy beard, he’d helped with planting the garden. Rather than a wide-brimmed cowboy hat, Cookie wore a bowler.

  “Yes, I play. Played before we come to America.”

  “Well, come on an’ grab the fiddle and bow from Jeb and show us how it’s played in Russia.” Cookie reached for her hand, but Gema tucked it behind her.

  “Red, not want me with cowboys. Say they too rough speak.”

  Cookie chuckled. “He’s surely right about that. They wouldn’t know how to palaver with a lady. Let’s go find Red and get his okay for you to spend a bit of time with that fiddle.” He grabbed her by her other hand and steered her toward the stables.

  “Hey, Red,” Cookie hollered when they entered the dimness.

  “What?” Red came out of a stall, closing the gate behind him. When he saw Gema standing in the doorway, he hurried forward. “Is something wrong?”

  “Naw, your little lady here heard Jeb squeakin’ on that there fiddle of his. Seems she knows a thing or two about playing. Thought she might be a wantin’ to give us a song or two on the thing. Wants you to give her the okay to be around the cowboys.”

  Gema bit her lip as Red approached, wiping his hands on a rag. “Is that right? You know how to play a fiddle?”

  She nodded. “I play grandmother’s, then when mine. Papa sell to help pay for coming to America.” She desperately wanted to have a violin in her hands again but would abide with whatever Red said.

  “And you want to try playing again?”

  She nodded, clenching her teeth against the disappointment when he said no.

  “Well, come on. Let’s go see if Jeb will give the thing up for a few minutes so you can play something.”

  ~~~~~

  Red didn’t know what hit him. All he’d said was that he’d take Gema to Jeb and see if she could play his fiddle. Now, he had her in his arms, and she was crying on his shoulder as she held him tightly. He looked at Cookie who smiled at him.

  When she quieted, Red escorted her to where the cowboys were gathered. “Jeb.” Red waited until all the cowboys were looking at him with Gema who was standing slightly behind him, gripping his hand tightly. “Seems my wife can play the fiddle. Would you be of a mind to let her use yours to show us?”

  Jeb who was sitting on a log stool jumped to his feet. “Sure enough, Red. Be glad to. My arm’s gettin’ a might tired.” He held the violin out, and Red took it.

  “Here you go, honey. Give it a whirl.”

  Gema took the instrument and bow. He watched as she stroked the wood, her face held an expression of love and joy. Tucking it under her chin, Gema touched the bow to the strings. Several minutes were spent tuning them to her satisfaction. Then she stepped back, centering herself within the semi-circle of seated and standing cowboys.

  At first, Gema ran through several sets of scales, pausing to start over when her fingers stumbled. Then, she began a haunting, sad tune that brought echoes of the past to Red’s thoughts. He glanced at the other cowboys. They were feeling the effects of the music, too.

  Once the strains of the song faded, Gema picked up the tempo with a lively folk song that had the men all smiling. Red could tell she missed some notes, but that she had a natural talent was obvious.

  She played two more songs he wasn’t familiar with. Then, she played another piece evoking emotions of joy and sorrow, love and loss. Her eyes were closed, and tears streamed down her face. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Gema seemed one with the violin and bow. They were extensions of her body. When Gema
lifted the bow from the strings and bowed her head, Red looked at the cowboys. They were opened-mouthed at the wonder of the music they’d just heard.

  Gema stepped up to Jeb. “Thank you for opportunity to play.” She held out the violin and bow so he could take them back. She turned away and walked to Red. “Thank you. Can’t know how much a gift you gave me.” She hadn’t bothered to wipe the tears away.

  Red watched as she walked away, heading toward their house.

  “She’s mighty talented with that thing. Much more than Jeb,” Cookie said from his spot leaning against the bunkhouse. Several of the cowboys voiced their agreement. Others were teasing Jeb about how much better Gema played than he did. He was nodding.

  Red glanced at the men. “Thanks, Jeb. It seems to have meant a lot to her.”

  “Any time she wants to play, you tell her she can, even if I’m out on the range and she wants to practice. I’ll show Cookie where I keep it. He can get it for her.”

  “Much obliged to you, Jeb.” Red tipped his hat and walked away, following in his wife’s footsteps.

  He found her lying on their bed, weeping into her pillow. “Gema, honey, are you okay?” He sat beside her and stroked her back.

  She turned her head. “Yes, fine. So lovely to play again. It been so long. Miss it so. Memories, good memories. My grandmother, my babushka. She teach me. From very little girl, I play. Then she die. Papa want move to America. Sell my violin. No can play then.”

  “You truly love to play, don’t you?” Red asked.

  Gema rolled onto her side. “Yes, the music, it in here.” She touched her chest. “It wants come out but no can. Hum, not enough. Sing, not enough. Not know words America songs. Russia songs no others know.”

  Red realized then that Gema hummed often. While she cleaned, cooked, did laundry, any of the activities of daily life. She hadn’t at the shack, but she’d been under a great deal of stress.

  He’d stayed close this past week, not riding out on the range. He wanted to be sure she settled in well. She and Juanita were becoming friends, even with their limited communication skills. Cookie was keeping a careful, fatherly, eye on her, also.

  Tomorrow, Red was going to have to head out with the cowboys. He’d been gone longer than he’d anticipated when he went to the line shack.

  “Jeb said you can play his fiddle whenever you want. Just ask Cookie if he’s not around.”

  Tears glistened in Gema’s eyes. She wiped them away and chuckled. “I water pot today. No more tear. I plan special thank you for cowboys for let me play violin.” She kissed him. “Special thank to you for let me.” She kissed him again.

  “Honey, any time you want to thank me like that you go right ahead.”

  Gema’s face turned bright red.

  Over the next two weeks, Red spent most of his time away from the homestead with the cowboys as they rode the range. There were many nights he spent out under the stars wishing he was home in bed with Gema. Not that they had progressed in their relationship in a physical way. They still slept curled around each other but never went further than snuggling.

  As attracted to Gema as Red was, he didn’t want to push her. He was so much older than she was, and that held him back.

  ~~~~~

  Gema stood on the front stoop of their house and watched as Red went to stand beside Hawk. They were watching Jeb accustom a young horse to a saddle. At least he was here at the homestead. He’d been gone so much, riding the range. She understood the need to round up the calves for branding, but sometimes he was staying out for two or three days at a time. How could they get closer and eventually make the marriage more than one in name only if he was always gone?

  Gema was more than attracted to Red. She’d lie beside him at night and hope he’d turn to her wanting to do more than cuddle. Their bodies seemed compatible. They woke up each morning a tangle of arms and legs.

  Gema had taken Jeb up on his offer of playing his violin. She’d taken the sheet music from her trunk that had traveled with her all the way from Russia. The precious papers, wrapped in oilcloth, were given to Gema shortly before her grandmother’s death. Yellowed with age, they held fond memories of holding the instrument and bow during many hours of practice. Scales, solo pieces, duets. Folk music and classical. Many were hand copied, the ink fading, the paper brittle.

  She played during the day, practicing after her chores were done. In the evening, she and Jeb would trade off playing for the cowboys. Red seemed to be proud of her. He complimented her as they walked back to their house. Gema hoped each night he would turn to her, that he would do more than kiss her lightly on the cheek and say good night.

  Maybe she needed to be a bit bolder. Gema had kept away from the corrals, barns, and stables, not wanting to be in the way. Maybe Red didn’t think she was interested in his work. Maybe if she spent small amounts of time with him when he was here, he’d see that she wanted to be a larger part of his life.

  With that goal in mind, Gema stepped off the stoop and approached the two men leaning against the rail fence.

  ~~~~~

  “Hawk, I’d like to discuss something with you,” Red tipped his hat back a bit. Hawk looked at him, so he continued. “I heard tell that Mrs. Trembly is looking to sell the Tanner place to help with the twins.”

  “Heard that too. Such a tragedy. Silas murdered, then his wife dies of the measles. Mrs. Trembly’s taking them on is a blessing. Mrs. Basking said having the twins to take care of was helping the woman with her own grief.”

  They watched the horse jump and buck, trying to get the saddle off his back. Jeb had a talent for gentling horses. Red and Hawk had confidence the horse would be saddle broke by the end of the day.

  “So, you interested in the Tanner spread?” Hawk asked.

  “I’d like to own it. I can’t begin ranching it on my own though. I was hoping you and I could strike a deal.” Red sent up a silent prayer that Hawk would agree to his plan. “I can buy the place with a good down payment. I’ve been saving for a long time. I don’t have enough to build a house and outbuildings or buy much stock. I’m hoping to raise horses first, then move on to cattle.”

  “You want to stay on as foreman?”

  “Yes, I’d like to stay on and also buy a few of your young mares. I’d brand them as mine but keep them with your herd. We could run them all on my place for grazing. I’d also like to use your studs until I can buy one of my own. I’d pay you stud fees when the time comes.”

  “That’s a sound plan,” Hawk said. They went on discussing the details of the arrangement. Red would go to town the next day and speak with the new lawyer in town to set up a contract between Red and Hawk concerning the particulars. He’d also meet with the banker, who was also the land agent, about buying the ranch. When the topic was exhausted, they watched as Jeb worked with the horse.

  ~~~~~

  Gema approached the two men quietly from behind. She didn’t want to interrupt them if they were discussing something important.

  “You and Gema getting along?” Hawk asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Married life agreeing with you?”

  Red was silent.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “No, it’s not bad. Not exactly. It’s just… There’s something holding me back from getting closer to her.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’m not sure Gema wants me, if you know what I mean. She’s so very young. Nearly young enough to be my daughter. How can she want an old geezer like me?”

  Gema stood stock still. Red thought she didn’t want him? Nothing was farther from the truth. The truth was, she did want him. Yearned for him, but didn’t know how to let him know.

  Slowly, so as not to let him or Hawk know she’d been there, Gema backed away until she was far enough, then turned and hurried back to the house.

  Inside, she paced from the stove in the kitchen and through to the fireplace in the parlor. There was also a small washroom at the back entrance and their bedroo
m. Not a large area to pace in, but she managed.

  “Red doesn’t think I want him,” Gema mumbled in Russian. “That I think he’s too old. Stupid man. He’s not old, at least not to me. I think he’s very handsome.

  “He also thinks I’m very young. Well, I’ll show him I’m a grown woman. A woman who wants to be a wife. His wife. I’ll…” Gema stopped pacing. She had no clue what she’d do. She knew what the ultimate goal was, but not how to get there. And there wasn’t anyone on the ranch she could ask. Juanita was the only other woman. Though they were making progress with English and Spanish, neither woman was proficient enough to help Gema with her dilemma.

  For that, she’d have to go to town. There was one of the Ladies who Gema knew would be able to tell her how to make her husband see her as a woman, a desirable woman: Myra Riverby.

  The problem was: how could she get to town? She didn’t ride. Had no clue how to drive a buggy or wagon. It was too far to walk.

  The clock on the mantle bonged the hour. They were eating supper at the main house tonight. It was time for Gema to go help Juanita begin supper. Maybe, between now and when they were gathered around the table, she’d think of how to get to town in the very near future.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Gema sat in front of Red on Ralph. She didn’t think she’d ever want to learn to ride or drive. She loved being in the saddle with his arms around her. It made her feel secure, maybe even desirable, with Red’s arm around her waist and her back against his chest.

  Gema couldn’t believe her good fortune when Red announced, at supper, he was going to town the next day. She’d immediately asked if she could ride along. She made up excuses about things she needed to purchase. When Red said he knew she wanted to see and talk with her friends, Gema barely kept her mouth from dropping open. Did he know what she was going to talk with Myra about? No, he couldn’t. He must just be thinking she missed the other Ladies. While that was true, it wasn’t the reason she wanted to go to town.