Meredith absently set the riding habit across the valise. “What do you mean if you acknowledge me?”
“Would you have me bandy the truth around? I’ll not have a wife with a sullied reputation. Don’t you think my friends might think it odd that I left town for a couple of weeks and came back married? That’s more than I have a stomach for.”
Meredith resisted the urge to comment on his stomach in light of the way he threw up all over the preacher’s Sunday shoes.
“So you want to keep me hidden away like a mistress?” she asked raising her voice. “Or perhaps you prefer to live openly with me and let everyone think I’m no more than a brazen doxy and not let them know we ever spoke vows together?”
She stood in front of him now, hands on hips yapping with the ferocity of the small terrier.
“I only thought there might be a better way to go about this than to just show up with you and say you are my wife. I just haven’t figured out yet how to do it.”
Blake’s mood was like a cast iron pan over a flame coaxed with kerosene. The pan was blackened with years of unsettled feelings toward his father for seducing his mother away from a family who loved her to become his mistress and for fathering him out of wedlock. And it was blackened further by his mother’s death which left him abandoned to the streets for a cruel winter. This was the side of Blake he hid from the world with a politician’s smile. This was the real Blake Warner.
The boiling water inside filled with self-recriminations roiled wildly until every drop of moisture had evaporated leaving only a red-hot pan. Had Meredith known her first attempts to communicate with him would sizzle and evaporate like an errant drop of water; she might have given him more time to cool down.
“For what it’s worth,” Meredith began as she pulled Viper alongside Blake and his horse as they traversed the rutted road through the dense forests. “I’m only sorry we got caught. I’m not sorry for what we did.”
Blake turned in his saddle to address her and found they sat eye to eye with her on her oversized horse and him on his mare. “You’re not sorry we got caught. Why would you be? Look at the prize you won.”
Meredith stared boldfaced at him. What conceit?
“You put way too much value on your looks, Mr. Warner. It’s ashamed your personality doesn’t match.”
He shrugged as if to say the barb didn’t stick. “I’m sure you’ll get past it when you realize the kind of money you married into.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “You’re more impressed with your wealth than I am. As long as I have clean clothes to wear, a bed to sleep in and my horse to ride, I am pretty well content.”
Her mind continued to add to the list but she did not vocalize the thoughts. The man frustrated her to no end. She only wished to tell him she enjoyed making love with him and he picked a fight. It wasn’t her fault he assumed she was married. If he didn’t want to make love to a virgin, he should have asked her if she’d been with a man before. It wasn’t as if he had a shy bone in his body. He had no qualms about telling her she should have no expectations of the future relationship.
“That’s because you’ve never had anything. Once you get a taste, you’ll become insatiable in your spending.”
“I don’t want your stupid money, Blake,” she shouted putting her hands on her hips.
“You say that now but wait until you have your first jewels and silk gowns and fur coats.”
“Every coat I’ve ever owned was lined with fur.”
“Rabbit fur, I suppose.”
His derogatory tone made her feel defensive. “What’s wrong with that? It’s warm and soft.”
He shook his head. “Nothing. There’s nothing wrong with wearing pelts…if you’re a trapper’s wife.”
Meredith had never been made to feel inferior because of her social status or lack thereof in her life and she’d be damned if she’d let Blake treat her that way.
“I am no more responsible for my birth and upbringing than you are for yours. My parents love me – loved me with all their hearts and provided me with all I needed to be happy. Can you say the same?”
His eyes narrowed at her and his jaw tattooed a rhythm of annoyance. She suspected she had just hit a sensitive spot. Was his childhood unhappy? Did his parents put their wants above his needs? He was probably raised by nannies and completely ignored by his parents. A frown marred her face as she wondered what happened when he was ten years old that made him stop needing a mother as he said after their wedding.
“You said you’re only sorry about getting caught; well, I’m sorry about it all. But mostly, I’m sorry I ever met you.”
She gasped at the insult. “Why should you be different from anyone else?”
She stared at him a long moment, her face carefully devoid of the hurt he just caused her. She turned facing forward, her back straight as an arrow, and when she spoke her voice was deadly calm.
“I do want something else from you.”
“Your chance to negotiate went away when you agreed to marry me.”
“That’s fine. If you won’t give me enough money to hire a lawyer to divorce you, I’ll get a job and earn the money. It’ll just take longer.”
“You shouldn’t say things like that unless you mean it.”
“I do mean it.”
She gave Viper her heels, nudging him into a cantor, only allowing him to return to his natural gait when the distance between them lengthened into solitude.
She would not cry, she would not, she thought casting her eyes heavenward trying to force the tears back. What was wrong with her that people found her so distasteful? It had never really mattered before because she always had her parents.
But she liked Blake and wanted him to like her. In years to come when she thought about him, she wanted to do so with fond memories not with a broken heart. She tried to convince herself that the marital act would be the same with any man, that what they shared was what everyone shared but it had been so wonderful that she would have followed him to the ends of the earth if he indicated he wanted that.
But he didn’t.
He must have known the power he held over women and that was why he made sure she understood he was offering nothing afterwards.
Hoping he wouldn’t see, she brushed the tears from her face. Why the hell had she ridden in front of him? She didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of knowing he made her cry.
As the forest opened into a clearing, Meredith noticed a fallen log about a quarter mile away with a stream another hundred yards beyond it and decided to veer off the road to jump over the obstacles. If Blake wasn’t past her by the time she’d taken her detour, she’d head into the woods and relieve her bladder to ensure she would be trailing him.
“I’ll catch up,” she shouted to Blake with forced cheerfulness and gave her stallion a good nudge. She didn’t turn around to watch his reaction, her focus solely on the obstacles before her. The tree was large, the partially unburied root ball and limbs elevating the trunk off the ground. She liked the challenge. It was both high and wide. Her whole body became taut, her legs vising her to the horse like an extra appendage.
A moment later, they took to flight and cleared it with one of Viper’s back hooves grazing the tree. Even if she hadn’t heard the contact, she would’ve known by his landing that he had touched but it didn’t stop her from heading straight for the stream.
She knew her horse, knew his abilities – could feel when he met his limits and knew the stream offered little challenge. Viper jumped the five feet from bank to bank easily.
Meredith turned to check Blake’s progress and found his eyes on her. She waved and headed into the woods to heed nature’s call. Twenty to thirty yards should afford her privacy from the road she calculated and slowed her mount to negotiate the dense vegetation.
A branch grabbed her skirt and she reined her mount to untangle herself.
Suddenly, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Viper snorted and prance
d as her gaze turned towards the movement.
Four Dakota braves and two boys gathered around a tiny fire, all turned towards her, their weapons in hand. They obviously heard her coming and were ready to defend their camp.
Meredith barely made eye contact with one before her flight instinct took over. She wheeled her horse around, the fabric of her skirt rending a small hole and fled as quickly as the horse could pick through the dense trees.
As soon as she hit the clearing, her heels contacted Viper’s flanks sending him into a gallop towards Blake.
“Indians,” she called.
His eyes automatically shifted to the spot where she emerged from the forest and he could make out the outline of a brave concealed in the shadows. He kicked his horse to match Viper’s gait despite not being followed. They did not slow down for a good two miles.
“You will not do that again!” he stated when they began to feel the danger ebbing.
“I had to go – I still need to go.”
He reached out and took Viper’s reins to stop her. “That’s not what I’m talking about you know it. I don’t want you further away than speaking distance. No more riding ahead, no more riding away to show off your riding skills. Do you want to exhaust your horse? If you need privacy, we will make sure it’s safe before you are alone and I will be very close by. Do you understand?”
“I am not a child you can order around,” she said with her hands on her hips.
“No,” he said with something akin to disgust tingeing his words. “You’re my wife and you vowed to try to obey. Maybe this is one of those times you should put forth a little effort into the attempt. I’m not trying to bend your will. I’m trying to protect you.”
Her shoulders sagged as she worried the inside of her lip. How she wanted to defy him because he hurt her but what he asked was not unreasonable.
“I’ll try,” she acquiesced sounding like a petulant child.
“Good. Let’s see if this would be a good spot for us to empty our bladders.” At her horrified expression, he was quick to add, “Well, not together.” He led her about ten feet into the woods. “This is far enough. Go behind the bush and I’ll wait on the road.”
She made no move to dismount.
“I’ve already seen you completely naked including that adorable mole on your left hip. Furthermore, the idea of watching a woman go is not an enticement to me – to some men perhaps, but not to me.”
“I don’t have a mole on my hip,” she protested as she dismounted.
Blake cast a wicked smile at her. “Yes, you do.”
He took Viper’s reins and led him back to the road and by the time she returned, he was ready to get back in the saddle as well.
“I need a leg up.”
“This horse is too big for you,” he grumbled squatting down and clasping his hands into a step.
“Till death do we part,” she reminded him in case he thought to suggest they switch horses.
He hoisted her up effortlessly. “So did you find that mole? I imagine it would have been quite entertaining to watch you trying to find it with your skirts rucked up to your waist and you twisting around trying to see it.”
When her only answer was the blush on her cheeks, Blake decided to help her out.
“If I remember correctly, it’s just about here.”
He reached out to touch her lower hip but her hand snaked out and grabbed his wrist, holding it inches away.
“For your information this is a split skirt. I have to lower it not ruck it up,” she said. “I found it. It looks like I have a tick on my ass. Thank you so much for pointing it out to me.”
He laughed heartily. “If I were a tick, I couldn’t think of a better home.”
Dropping his wrist, she looked blankly at him trying to decide if he complimented her or insulted her again.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you have a fine derrière.”
Meredith suppressed a smile that threatened to reveal her pleasure at receiving a compliment from him. She clicked her tongue and nudged her horse into moving down the road.
Blake quickly mounted and caught up. “Do you have a bonnet you can wear?”
“My mother gave up trying to keep me in bonnets when I was four. I don’t even own one.”
“We’ll have to get you one.”
“I won’t wear it.”
“I imagine that pretty strawberry-blond hair would be quite prized on some brave’s belt.”
Meredith wondered if they’d scalped her parents and subconsciously moved closer to Blake.
She reached out and snatched the low-crown hat off his head. “Better?”
“You won’t be content until you’ve destroyed or stolen all my clothing.” he said more to form a token protest than to dissuade her from wearing it.
“I’m just borrowing it. You’re the one worried about my hair.”
Meredith had no way of knowing that when she said the word divorce, it was like throwing a bucket of water on the flame that fed the fire that darkened his mood. From the moment the word spewed from her mouth, he gradually began to calm, finally seeing light at the end of the tunnel.
The sky had grown dark before Blake spoke again. “Did you mean what you said about getting a divorce or were you just saying it because I made you mad?”
“I can’t imagine two people with less in common than you and I. Of course, an annulment would have been better but it’s a bit too late for that.”
Blake shook his head. “Have you ever known anyone divorced?”
“Are you saying you don’t want to be free of me?”
“No, I do. I just don’t think you understand the first thing about it.”
“What’s to understand? A judge releases us from our vows and we go our separate ways.”
“Meredith, if you think our little forced wedding caused a scandal, that’s nothing compared to a divorce. There is a stigma attached to being divorced especially for a woman. Men will want to use you for their pleasure because they know you are not a virgin but they won’t offer you marriage because you’ve been with another man. If you can keep everyone from learning you’re divorced, you should probably tell people you’re a widow. It’s respectable to be a widow and it explains your lack of innocence.”
She thought about what he said but did not comment on it. “Will you give me the money or do I need to find a job?”
“Save your money. I could beat you within an inch of your life and most judges would not entertain a wife’s petition. I’ll have to do the divorcing. Even then, it’ll probably cost a fortune in bribes.”
“Then it’s settled.”
“We can do it in St. Joseph. It’s far away from my home and your relatives in Nebraska. I have friends there who can keep a secret and it’s where I was taking you anyway.”
“You weren’t taking me home?”
He looked at her askance. “No, not right away.”
Night had fallen long before Blake stopped for the night in one of the small communities they came to. Meredith’s nerves were frazzled from the day’s travel and thoughts that the Sioux might be nearby following their movements, ready to do the unthinkable. She never verbalized her fears nor told Blake of her fatigue. Their marriage started precariously enough and she preferred not to strain their fragile peace by sounding like a complainer.
Bone weary, Meredith trudged behind Blake into the sole hotel sported by the community. They each set their luggage on the floor of the empty lobby. Blake rang the bell and a sleepy voice called from an adjoining room, saying he’d be there in just a second. Soon a young man with red-rimmed eyes appeared. At the sight of Meredith, he unrolled his shirt sleeves and buttoned the cuffs muttering something about the heat.
“We need two rooms for the night.”
The first words out of Blake’s mouth in hours stunned her. Two rooms? All day she daydreamed of the night’s promise. Before they entered she slipped on her mother’s wedding ring so the
clerk would not question them sharing a room but now she wanted to remove it without anyone noticing.
The clerk’s eyes darted from Blake to Meredith and back. “We only have one room left,” he said. “There’s a wedding in town on Saturday and the bride’s got family in from out-of-state. Oh, heck, I know you folks don’t care about all that.”
Blake’s eyes followed the clerk’s to Meredith. Her ribbon was coming loose freeing wisps of hair to frame her face and the black hat, pushed back on the crown of her head looked like a black halo from a Renaissance painting. He was again surprised by her simple beauty, her unique coloring and the fresh-from-the-farm innocence she wore. Blake ran his hand through his hair. “Any place in town likely to have another room?”
The man cleared his throat and glanced at Meredith; a slight blush stained his cheeks and turned his ears red. “Gristle’s saloon has rooms upstairs they let sometimes when business is slow.” Then he added in a desperate attempt to divert attention from his brash recommendation, “Or there might be an open stall at the livery – the hay is clean.”
Blake nodded. “We'll want your last room.”
The man brought out a large ledger and showed Blake where to sign it. After he paid for the room the man handed him the key with the instructions, “Upstairs, down the hall, last door on the right.”
Blake in turn handed the key to Meredith. The questioning look in her eyes told him that she had not expected separate rooms. It surprised him but neither of them was inclined to discuss the matter in front of the clerk. “Good night,” he said as she picked up her suitcase and started for the stairs. Blake lifted his carpet bag and was about to leave. “I’ll be by to get you early…” he began and saw her shoulders drop as she paused before the stairs. He let his sentence die on his lips as he strode to her side and took the valise from her. He put his arm around her shoulders and walked her up the stairs. “Tired?”
She nodded. “It’s been a long day. Are you sure you don’t want to share the room? One of us can sleep on the floor.”
M. Donice Byrd - The Warner Saga Page 8