Tender savage

by Conn, Phoebe

  When Sarah returned home two weeks later, she brought a letter from Lars to his daughter. Wanting her to

  have it immediately, she went to her home as soon as she had unpacked. When Anna Ferguson showed her out toi the garden she found her brother lying in the grass beneath the peach tree. His head was cradled comfortably in Erica's] lap, while he talked with Etienne who was seated beside him holding the baby. The four comprised a most unusual j family, but it was clear in the width of her brother's smilej as she called to him that it provided Mark with perfect j contentment.

  Mark sat up when he heard his sister's voice. "Sarah, is that you?" he called out excitedly.

  "Of course, it's me." Sarah knelt by his side to give him a, warm and lengthy hug. "I had such a good time with! Louise I stayed in Washington longer than I expected, butj now I shall be able to come see you every day if you like."

  "Yes, I'd like that very much." Mark clutched her tightly i^ his arms, his greeting enthusiastic. "I missed you terribly. Please don't go away ever again."

  When he finally relaxed his hold upon her, Sarah kept f his hand in hers as she sat down by his side, but she did not promise she would not make another trip to Washington, and soon. "I have a letter here from your father. Erica. He said if you still had not chosen a name for his grandson, he would be happy to have you name him after him."

  Erica found Sarah's pleasant smile and friendly manner a most welcome surprise after the wretched scene they had had when they parted. She looked over at Vip)er, wondering what he thought of the miraculous change in Sarah's attitude, but he seemed more interested in the contents of her father's letter and urged her to open it.

  "I will stay here with the babe and your husband if you wish to read your letter in private, madam," he offered in the polite tone Etienne always used.

  "You saw Lars?" Mark asked. "We should have sent him another wire. We already named the baby for Etienne and me," he revealed proudly.

  "You did what?" Sarah replied, dismayed by that announcement.

  Viper couldn't help but laugh at Sarah's bewildered expression, since he was certain people seldom named their sons after their servants. "The boy's name is Stephen Mark Randall. Etienne is the French form of the name

  i Stephen. It is a good name, is it not. Miss Randall?" That question was spoken as a clear challenge, but Sarah ignored it.

  "Why yes, I think Stephen is a good choice. I don't believe we've had a Stephen in the Randall family, so he will be the first." She smiled at Viper then, giving him the clear message that she would not fight with him in front of her brother.

  "Well, little Stephen is sleeping so peacefully I'll not disturb him by carrying him inside. If you'll all excuse me for a moment, I would like to take my father's letter up to my room to read," Erica said then.

  "You're excused," Mark responded happily. "I want Sarah to tell me everything she did in Washington."

  Slender once again. Erica rose to her feet with her former grace, then ruffled Mark's curls as she moved behind him. "I won't be long, but I'll stop and see what Mrs. Ferguson is preparing for dinner. You'll stay and eat with us, won't you, Sarah?"

  "Yes, thank you, I'd like that." Sarah gave her brother's hand an affectionate squeeze. "I've missed you, too, Mark. You must tell me what you've been doing, too."

  Erica blew Viper a kiss Sarah didn't see, then turned toward the house. She waited until she had reached her room to slit oj>en her father's envelope. She dreaded reading his letter. She remembered another letter then: the one she had gotten from Mark when she had first reached New Ulm. It had said everything but what she had wanted to hear. Fearing this would be another such disappointing note, she withdrew the three sheets of stationery slowly, wondering what her father could possibly have to say that would require so much paper. Since he seldom had the time to write, he was usually quite brief.

  To her delighted surprise, what Erica Jound was a quaintly worded request that she accept his growing affection for Sarah rather than considering his interest in the young woman disrespectful to her mother's memory. He had not proposed to Sarah as yet, he confided, but he enjoyed her company so much that he thought, if their friendship continued to flourish as it had during her recent visit to Washington, that by the holidays he might be ready to ask her to become his wife.

  I

  It was such a dear letter it brought tears to Erica's eyes,' for she had never wanted her father to spend the rest of his hfe alone, and she knew it was not a sacrifice her mother would have demanded, either. It was not inntil she reached the last paragraph that he directed his remarks to her, and again he surprised her. He apologized for not being more attentive to her needs in the past, but promised to be far more considerate in the future. He said he admired her for bringing the happiness to Mark's life that he knew would be lacking in her own without Etienne's being there to help her.

  Erica read those words several times to make certain she understood exacdy what he meant, and she was soon convinced that she did. That he understood her plight, and did not condemn her for the manner in which she had chosen to solve it, was so loving a gesture that she could not wait to share it with Viper, for it explained the change in Sarah's behavior, as well. She went to her window and looked out over the garden. Sarah and Mark were still talking together, the sunlieht dancing off their tawny curls while Viper and the baby seemed to be lost in a world j of their own. When the Indian looked up at her she waved ' and blew him another kiss, overjoyed to think it was a world to which she also belonged.

  As Erica turned away from the window, she hoped the ' illusion of harmony she and Viper had taken such care to create for Mark would not soon become an imix)ssible burden. They had carried on what could be called an innocent pretense before Stephen was bom, but now their son was more than a month old. Erica knew their deception would become increasingly difficult to continue, for while she would willingly devote her days to Mark, she wanted ever so desperately to again fill her nights with the beauty of Viper's love. Now, with her famer's tacit approval, she couldn't believe that giving in to her desires would be wrong.

  Viper lay stretched out on his bed, his head propped on his hands and a pensive frown marring his handsome features as he recalled the strange twists the path of his life had taken during the year since the uprising had begun. He had taken a wife, then lost her, come close to death, then been granted a reprieve. Now he had a son he shared with the same man with whom he had been forced to share his wife. He could scarcely imagine what the next twelve months would ^bring when the last year had been filled with such an abundance of soul-searing events.

  He had had no chance to speak alone with Erica and so had been left wondering what her father had said in his letter. Since her mood was such a good one, he knew Sarah must have failed to convince the man to help her carry out her threats. Then again, Sarah did not seem upset, either, which puzzled him completely, since she had made no secret of what she thought of his being there.

  While Sarah had been away, Erica had recovered her strength, dismissed the wet nurse, and spent her time lavishing attention and affection upon their son. Viper was certain she had been too busy to notice the subtle changes in Mark's behavior that he had observed. At first he had thought the young man merely wanted to stay close to Erica and the baby when he no longer had any interest in going fishing or out for rides or walks. Then Mark had begun taking longer naps each afternoon and falling

  asleep earlier at night, and Viper knew it was not simply the iMiby that kept him so close to home. The injured man ^ clearly had less energy than he had had only a few weeks earlier.

  Concerned about the state of Mark's health. Viper had begun keeping track of how often he complained of severe headaches. When he had first come to the Hanson home, the man he had been hired to tend had suffered from that pain perhaps one day in five. For a while Mark had seemed better, eager to get out and enjoy the summer weather, but often at night he had felt unwell and needed laudanum to sleep. That had worried VijD
er, for he did not want to be blamed for making Mark ill. Rather than continue suggesting activities to keep him busy, he had begun to wait for Mark to say he wanted to do something, and then he would arrange it. The headaches had still come, though. He glanced at the calendar on the small table beside his bed. There were three x's marked for the previous week. He was certain Erica knew about only one of those headaches. The others Mark had managed to hide from her with his extended naps and early bedtimes.

  That Mark would try and deceive her touched Viper deeply. Mark might not be the same man he had known in Minnesota, but they had been rivals for Erica's love then, and now that they shared it, they were friends. When he had come there. Viper had promised to stay and help the woman he loved care for her invalid husband. Now it saddened him immeasurably to think that task might not last much longer. Mark had never been truly well, but now what health he had enjoyed was failing. Viper could not help but think the once vital young man would have been better off being killed on the battlefield than dying slowly at home. Then he thought of how dearly Mark loved the son he thought wais his own, and knew he would have been cheated of far more than his life had he missed having the joy of knowing the little boy.

  A light knock at his door put an end to his sad reverie, and Viper leaped off his bed and rushed to answer it. When he found Erica clad in a flowing nightgown whose sheer folds were sweetly scented with lavender, he gaped in surprise. Her bright curls framed the faint blush in her cheeks, and since she had never come to his room before, his first thought was of her husband, and her charming

  prettiness escajDed his notice completely. "Does Mark need me?" he asked anxiously.

  Mystified by that greeting. Erica wondered if Viper would be disappointed to Team the truth. "No," she replied petulantly. "I do." She ducked under his arm, quickly surveyed his neatly kept quarters, then turned around to face him. "You've not come to my room since Stephen was born. Not once. I thought curiosity about my father's letter might lure you back to me tonight, but I got tired of waiting."

  Viper carefully closed the door rather than slam it as her high-handed attitude inspired him to do. He then leaned back against it and crossed his arms over his bare chest while he studied her defiantly tilted chin with the coolest glance he could affect. He was wesiring only a pair of gray pants Mark had given him, but he considered himself well enough dressed to entertain her.

  While she had made it clear how desperately she wanted him to stay with her, he had not thought she would be any more eager to maike love now than she had been before their child was bom. Not wanting to force the issue he had stayed away, hoping one day she would come to him. He had never expected she would be so angry when that day came, however. Trying to avoid an argument, he gave so novel an excuse he hojjed it would be believed. "Perhaps your customs are different from mine, but I did not think you would want me in your bed until after our son is weaned."

  That was so preposterous a statement that Erica was flabbergasted by it. "You don't mean itl" she exclaimed, her expression clearly conveying the depth of her dismay as her hot temper was cooled by a chill wave of disbelief.

  Viper was pleased he had succeeded in directing her anger away from himself for a change, but he frowned slightly, as though he were as confused as she. "Do white men sleep with their wives while they are nursing babies?" he asked cautiously.

  "Well, of course they do," Erica assured him, still astonished to learn the Sioux did not. "I distinctly recall your telling me you followed few of the old customs. Is that one you plan to observe?"

  "What if I did?" Viper asked slyly, unwilling to answer without knowing what difference his answer would make

  to her.

  Erica gestured helplessly, her mood now one of despair. "If only you had told me that before I dismissed the wet nurse, I would not have let her go. I won't nurse our son myself if it means we can't make love."

  Not wanting this astonishing conversation to end poorly. Viper took Erica's hand and led her over to the bed to be seated, since the room had only one straight-backed chair which was none too comfortable. When she had settled herself upon the single bed in what he regarded as a delightfully distracting pose, since it was obviously unintentional, he continued. "While I did share your bed before Stephen was born, you were always too miserable to have any interest in making love, so I thought you would be happy if I allowed you to sleep alone now. Are you telling me all I've done is make you unhappy instead?" Now that she had not only Mark dependent upon her loving care, but a new baby as well, he had thought she would have little time to spend thinking about him. He was flattered to think he might have been wrong, but he suppressed the impulse to grin from ear to ear.

  At that question, Erica suddenly felt as self-conscious as she knew Sarah had once felt around her father. She had expected him to fling open his door and welcome her enthusiastically. That he had not had left her both surprised and hurt. Now he claimed he had not been neglecting her at all, that her disappointment in him was the result of a misunderstanding. She looked down at her hands, silently cursing the scar as she spoke. "It's been a long while since we've had any time to talk. I know how difficult living here is for you, but it is difficult for me, as well."

  Viper sat down by her side and began to slip his fingers through her gorgeous cascade of glossy curls. Her hair was so long it reached clear past her waist, and he loved the way the light of the lamp danced upon the soft waves. But not nearly so much as he loved her. "At first you were too sick to want company. Erica, and since I know how seriously you take your wedding vows, I did not think you would want me to spend my nights with you anymore. I can hardly keep my hands off you during the day, at night it would be impossible. I wish you had asked me to come to

  your room before now, if that's what you really wanted."

  She had come to him craving the tumultuous love she had once known in his arms, but he was being so coolly logical she wished she had stayed in her room. "There are always so many people around," she complained sadly. "If we do not see each other at night, then when can we be together?" she asked rather shyly, afraid her company was not nearly as important to him as his was to her. "Do Indian men not bother to speak to their wives if they do not plan to make love to them? Are all of them so rude as that?"

  "I am trying to do as you have asked again and again, to resp>ect your marriage to Mark, and you call me rude?" Viper resp)onded bluntly. "Will you make up your mind what it is you want, then tell me, so I will know, too?" Erica tried to move off the bed then, but he reached for her arm and kept her at his side. "I'm sorry. I do not want to fight with you. Now tell me what was in your father's letter. I have waited all day to hear."

  Hoping she could save her pride by giving a brief report of the letter and then excusing herself. Erica attempted to do just that and concluded promptly. "So you see, he knows who you are, but he is being more symp>athetic than I had any hope he would be. Perhaps that's what love has done to his outlook."

  Viper suspected there was more to Lars's kindness than love for Sarah could explain, but he did not want to cite the physician's regard for Mark's fragile health as a possible reason. "I would like to read the letter," he said mstead.

  "You don't believe what I told you?" Erica asked, clearly offended.

  Viper shook his head, sorry he had upset her needlessly when that was exactly what he was trying not to do. He rose to his feet and took her hand to help her up. "I believe you. Let me walk you back to your room. We can't hear the baby cry up here."

  Crushed by the practicality of his rejection. Erica didn't argue. She had been so excited by her father's letter, and so tired of pretense, all she had wanted was to spend the night in Viper's arms. What he wanted her to do, apparently, was to tend his son. She loved the baby dearly, but she loved him too, and she didn't like being ignored, no matter

  how noble his excuse might have been for his extended absence from her room.

  Determined not to cry in front of him, when they reache
d her room Erica wished the brave a soft goodnight, then slipped through her door. At night she leU the lamp on the oressing table turned down low so she would not have to waste time lighting it should the baby need her attention. When Viper followed her into the dimly lit room she turned and regarded him with a curious glance. "Did you want to see the letter?" she asked, thinking that must be what he wanted.

  Viper closed the door behind him and crossed the short distance between them in a single stride. "I have done my best to help you care for your husband and our son. If only I had known you wanted more of me, I would have given it gladly. After all, it has been longer since I made love than, you," he confided with a teasing smile, hoping to make| her laugh, but he did not succeed.

  "What are you talking about?" Erica asked in a tense, whisper. She didn't want to wake the sleeping babe, but! she didn't want him to misunderstand her relationship' with Mark, either.

  Since what he had meant was so damn obvious to him. Viper felt like a fool having to explain. "Was Mark so poor a lover you have forgotten being with him already?"

  The room was very still. The baby was sleeping soundly, and Erica was worried their voices might wake him. She turned away from Viper and went over to the windows, then waited until he followed her to reply. "Mark and I have never made love. Wren cut me up too badly, and then he had to report for duty. The last time I made love was with you."

  Viper stared at the delicate woman, wondering if she could ix)ssibly be so incredibly stupid as she sounded. It was impossible for him to hold his temper in check now, and overwhelmed by it, he shouted at her, "Erica, if you never slept with Mark, then you are not his wife! Did you think you had to do no more than repeat pretty promises ] to be married?"