by Sharon Ihle
"Dammit, Sunflower, hang on a minute." When she halted her stride, he blew out a sigh. "You are the most exasperating woman I've ever known."
Turning to him, she flashed a haughty grin. "Then I am pleased. It is important to me to be the best at everything I do."
Laughing, he released her arm and shook his head. "I'm not going to win this one, am I?"
"Not for all the water in the mighty Colorado, Cole Fremont." She patted the back of her skirt, then circled him with an exaggerated limp. "My leg and other important parts will never be the same after a day spent in that hideous sidesaddle. If you wish to show me your land, I will ride the way I want to, or I shall walk."
"Oh, Sunny." Cole sighed and pulled her into his arms. He stared down at her features, noted the determined set of her strong chin, the stubborn Irish gleam in her deep sapphire-blue eyes. What kind of madness drew him to this half-breed, this woman whose passion had only begun to surface? She had a way of bringing him to his knees, of stripping away all his pretenses, leaving him incapable of any kind of facade. No courting games were allowed with her. This woman demanded the truth—a man's soul.
Chuckling, he rolled his eyes. "All right, stubborn lady. Ride any way you like, but remember it's your reputation at stake."
"It is also my bottom. I will not have it bruised any further."
Still laughing, Cole kissed her forehead and ran his fingertips down the side of her cheek to her throat. Since they'd arrived at the ranch, he'd been working overtime to catch up with spring calving and going over the books with his father. Glimpses of Sunny had been infrequent, happening most often during mealtimes when they were surrounded by family and ranch hands, all very carefully engineered by Cole.
Now as he looked into Sunflower's eyes he had to wonder if any good had come from the idea to distance himself from her, if he'd helped or hindered his own understanding of what they were all about. Had he really learned anything about their puzzling, forbidden relationship, or about himself during the past few days without her? He had hoped to find he'd been caught up in a purely physical flirtation, something that would bum itself out if he were to absent himself from her considerable charms and innocent, trusting nature. But he'd been wrong. The days and nights were consumed with thoughts of her, memories of her spontaneous laughter, her prankish nature, her touch, her scent, the way she looked at him when she wanted something from him. Oh, how he needed a few hours alone with her.
"I've missed you the last couple of days," he said thickly. "I've missed holding you through the long nights on the trail, feeling your hair against my shoulder as you sleep."
The tone of his voice, the sudden smoke in his eyes, made her heart lurch and her knees weak. Suddenly in need of air, Sunny took a deep breath. "And I you," she murmured softly.
Charged with instant desire, wanting desperately to bury himself in her softness, no longer wondering why, Cole vetoed the urge to keep her in his arms as his father's harsh words of prejudice echoed in his mind.
Abruptly releasing her, he stepped back and removed the offensive sidesaddle from the dark bay mare. "Let's not waste any more time around here."
After stripping the horse, Cole dug out the smallest roping saddle he could find and invited Sunny to mount, wondering what she intended to do with her skirts. But as usual, she was way ahead of him. With a playful giggle, Sunny raised her hem to reveal her brother's trousers, then gathered the bundle of grey serge in one arm and pulled herself onto the horse with the other. Sitting primly, she draped the material over the mare as if she were covering a dining table, then smiled and waited for Cole's next instructions.
Shaking his head, Cole laughed as he mounted and wheeled Sage towards the barn door. With the mare, Dust Bucket, close behind, the chestnut stallion raced down the path leading away from the Triple F ranch.
As they galloped, Sunny fell into an easy cadence with the borrowed horse and marveled at the strength beneath her, the differences between this purebred animal and Paddy, who was still resting in a corral. She could almost feel the ripple of Dust Bucket's muscles beneath the saddle as they bunched and expanded in perfect rhythm with her thighs, and dreamed of one day owning an animal of such magnificence. Suddenly Sunny wondered how much longer she'd be in a position to borrow this one. How long did she have before Cole, or his father, tried to send her away to a reservation or put her on a train to Yuma? And what about her mother's murderers? How would she ever find them now?
Lost in thought, Sunny was surprised when Cole pulled Sage to a halt and turned to her. "Well? What do you think?"
She looked over the red-rimmed crest of the small butte and sucked in her breath. "Is all this your land?"
Pointing as he explained, Cole's entire manner brightened as he described his property. "It goes all the way to the Verde River, then as far as you can see to the south and up to that big stand of pine trees to the north."
Awestruck, Sunny could only sigh.
"Does that mean you like it?"
"That means I think it is truly beautiful."
Grateful for her kind words, he blew her a kiss and thought back to last year when the land was in its usual spring condition. "This is nothing, Sunny. The dry winter has taken its toll, and I don't know if a few more days of rain like we had yesterday will help or not. The meadow is far too brown for this time of year."
"You forget I come from Yuma," she laughed. "I see no brown here." And again, she sighed as the profusion of rich colors seemed to blend together, comprising a palette for even the most discriminating artist. She saw not brown, but golden burnt sienna mingled with the rich forest green of the grass and junipers, envisioned Irish shamrocks instead of dying palo verde trees, and delighted in the rich brick-red earth in place of the dusty sand of her homeland. But the Verde River, though not as wide or formidable as her beloved Colorado, held her captive, filled her with longing as its inviting red waters splashed up against the willow-covered banks.
Sunny began to laugh. "Your river is called verde, green, yet the waters flow red from the surrounding hills. Colorado means red, but my own river cannot come close to fulfilling the name the way the Verde does. I think that is very funny indeed."
Sunny's eyes sparkled as she examined his property, mirroring his own feelings for the land. Cole felt his heart reaching out for her, a moth drawn to her flame, blindly jumping into the fire of this beautiful and fascinating young woman. Tearing his gaze from her, he stared out to the river and realized he cared little if he should receive third degree burns or perish altogether, as long as she was in his arms. He shook off the implications of those feelings and forbade his mind to condense them to the one word he guessed would describe them best.
Suddenly impatient to hold her, to touch her, not to think, Cole urged Sage forward. "Come on, Sunflower. There's a perfect spot for our picnic down by the red green river."
Dust Bucket began her forward motion the minute Sage started down the hill, and before long they reached a lush, cool picnic area. Cole stripped the horses of their saddles and hobbled them, leaving them free to graze and drink their fill of fresh mountain water. While he tended the animals, Sunny spread a blue checkered cloth over a blanket on a level patch of thick grass, then began to unpack the meal she'd prepared.
Eyeing the fare as he eased down on the cloth beside her, Cole smacked his lips. "Is that the chicken you fried up for supper last night?"
"Yes," she said cautiously. "Did you not like it?"
"I loved it, and so did everyone else." Impulse prodded him to lean over and kiss her tawny cheek, then Cole settled back on his elbow and hip. "I want to thank you for helping Nellie in the kitchen while Mom's down. It's a mighty big job feeding the Fremonts and the ranch hands."
"Why do you thank me, silly one?" Sunny unwrapped a bundle of sweet cakes spread with currant jelly and offered one. “Tis the least I can do for my room and board, and do not forget I still owe you for my clothing from town."
"You owe me nothing, Sunflow
er. If anything, it's I who owe you."
"Oh? For what, Cole Fremont?"
"For just because I say so." Uncomfortable with the conversation, he reached for a chicken leg and sank his teeth in the crispy morsel. He closed his eyes as he chewed and murmured, "Damn this is good. Does Nellie know how to cook this?"
"She does now," Sunny laughed. "We combined the way your mother cooks chicken with the way my mother does ..." Did, she corrected mentally, before she continued. "Anyway, this is what we came up with. I think it is pretty good, too."
But Cole was no longer interested in the chicken. He'd seen the shadow extinguish the sparkle in her eyes, the corners of her mouth droop in sadness. "You miss your mother a lot, don't you Sunshine?"
Warmed by his insight, the sensitivity in his tone, Sunny nodded silently and lowered her gaze.
"I wish I'd have met up with you closer to Yuma, so I could have been some help in finding the men who attacked her." Cole tossed the chicken bone towards the river and wiped his hands on a napkin. "I'm afraid it will take a real miracle to locate them now."
"I know," she agreed with a wistful sigh. "I was foolish to go after them myself or to think I might actually be following the right trail. I should have stayed home and waited for my father."
Inching across the blanket, Cole took her hand in his. "And rob me of the chance to know you? Not on your life." Opening her fingers, he kissed the center of her palm then looked into her eyes. "If it's not too painful, I'd like for you to tell me about your mother."
Tears sprang into the corners of Sunny's eyes. Cole really did care about her, her family, and her life before they'd met. Could it possibly be that he cared for her in the same way she cared for him? "You really wish to learn of Moonstar?"
"And your father, if you feel like talking about them both, but I'm particularly interested in your mother. I have a feeling you were very close to her."
"Oh yes," she sighed. "My father went in search of gold as often possible, and depending on the crop season, took at least one of my brothers along with him. This left Mother and I alone much of the time as I was growing. She was very proud of the English skills Pop and the priests taught her, and by the time I was of age, she decided to be my teacher instead of sending me to the mission school my brothers attended."
"She sounds like a wonderful woman. I wish I could have met her."
Buoyed by his response and her own memories, Sunny rose up on her knees as if in a trance. With a broad, self-conscious grin, she reached behind her neck, untied the yellow ribbon holding the bulk of her hair, and shook her head. A thick ebony sheet of velvet tumbled down her back, swinging before it settled into a soft mass at the base of her spine.
"This," she breathed with reverence, "was Moonstar, only her hair would sweep down to the blanket."
Sunny had taken on an incredible glow, presenting the very essence of pride in who and what she was. Cole suddenly felt humble and small in her company. She had the face of an angel, the body of a temptress, a look of cool innocence, but the radiance of passion's wisdom. At once he wanted to place her beyond the reach of mere mortals, but ravish her himself, lock her in a crystal cage and bury the only key in his heart forever. What was happening to him? Could he be falling into that illusive abyss called love? His discomfort increasing rapidly, Cole shrugged off his inner voices and regarded the vision before him. He cocked his head and swallowed to relieve the tightness in his throat. But he couldn't think of anything intelligent to say. "Your mother looked like you?" he finally managed.
Sunny broke into an impish grin, unaware of the reasons behind Cole's odd expression. "No. I look like her." And then the spell was broken. Her laughter sprinkled the air like a cool spring breeze as she sat back on her heels and pulled her fingers through her hair.
More relaxed now, Cole breathed easily and thought of the woman he'd never met. "I would imagine your mother must have been very beautiful."
"She was the most beautiful woman ever made, but not just to me. My father has said so many times." She pulled a length of raven-black hair over her shoulder and began to stroke it, as if somehow it might bring her closer to her mother's spirit. "I told you of my mother's hair and how she wore it because I thought you might like to know more of our people. Quechan women do not braid their hair as white men suppose all Indians do. She left it free and wild like her soul."
Like yours, he thought to himself, more drawn to her than ever. Cole took a long drink of water from the canteen, then shook his head as if to clear it. When he looked back over at Sunflower, she still rested on her heels, her smile almost ethereal.
"Your father," he said with difficulty and a determination to change the subject. "What about him? How did he meet your mother?"
Sunny froze as if struck, then squealed with laughter and collapsed on her side.
"Did I miss something?" he asked, chuckling along with her.
"I had not—" She laughed, working to collect herself. "I never thought of it before, but they met the same as us." And then she doubled over with laughter again.
"Sunny? What do you mean, the same as us?"
"My father—he met my mother the night she tried to kill him." And then her laughter came in spasms so strong, Sunny had to hold onto her stomach for fear it might burst.
Chuckling lightly, for he really didn't understand, Cole waited for her to catch her breath before he tried to get an explanation out of her. "Are you saying she went after your father with a knife in the middle of the night?"
"In a way, she did." Composed again, Sunny thought back to the stories told over the supper table, to the close sense of family, and shook off the pangs of sadness now accompanying those memories.
She pressed the tip of her tongue against her upper lip and gave Cole a shy smile, then she resumed. "As a young man, my father and his family traveled from Killarney, Ireland to St. Louis. When he came of age, he read of the gold strikes in Gila City and took off to seek his fortune."
"As did half the settlers in the state. Is that how he met your mom?"
"No." Sunny picked at a piece of sweet cake as she remembered. "By the time the Butterfield stage coach rolled into town with Patrick Callahan aboard, the gold fields of Gila City were all claimed or played out. So Pop got right back on the stage and headed for the newest boom town. He started out for La Paz. That is where I think he is now."
"Then La Paz," Cole mumbled between mouthfuls of chicken, "is where they met?"
"No. He never got that far." Sunny closed her eyes and hugged her knees to her chest. As she'd done many times before, she imagined the scene, pictured the pair who'd given her life as they first set eyes on one another. Had the sparks been as intense, as immediate, as they were between herself and Cole?
Smiling inwardly, Sunny went on. "Pop got off the stage in Yuma thinking he would rest up and have a look around town before booking passage on a steamship to La Paz, but instead he got caught up in talk about new gold discoveries in California."
Cole gave Sunflower a playful nudge in the ribs and a crooked grin. "But he discovered something better than gold, didn't he?"
Chuckling, Sunny rolled onto her back and began plucking at shafts of new spring grass. "He certainly did. Pop set up camp with a group of argonauts who'd taken advantage of the Quechans' hospitality. The Indians controlled the Colorado River crossing and with it the land route to California, so you might say my father and his friends really had no choice but to throw in with them for the night."
"And your mother," Cole whispered with a conspiratorial gleam in his eye, "crept up on him as he slept and demanded he remove his breeches or else she'd stab him in the heart?"
Sunny slapped Cole's shoulder. "No, silly. My mother's people were generally friendly and not given to attacking white men without good reason." She gave him a sideways grin, then averted her gaze as she added, "They did not, however, see any harm in relieving the travelers of a few 'extra' belongings as they slept off the effects of homemade mescal in the r
elative safety of the Quechan camp."
"Got him drunk and robbed him, huh?"
Sunny jerked to a sitting position and worked at feigning an injured expression, but it was no use. She shrugged. "It was something like that I suppose. Anyway, Pop came to just as my mother's fingers closed over his pocket watch. They struggled a few moments, then arrived at a stand-off with the barrel of Pop's gun against Moonstar's head and the tip of her knife pressed against his throat."
"I have to assume they both had a change of heart."
"A change of heart and temperature, if I understand what happened after that."
Sunny glanced at Cole, then blushed as her own words sank in. For the first time in her life, she understood what might have drawn her parents together, how the strength of their attraction must have overridden fear, a sense of survival, and the boundaries separating their cultures. She knew her bonds with the handsome rancher already were or could be as strong, but what about Cole? Would he ever be free to feel the same way? How big a part would their conflicting backgrounds play in the future? And what if he expected her to fit completely into his world, to become a fine lady? Could she do it? Did she even want to become one?
She'd already figured out that the reason she'd seen so little of him over the past three days had as much to do with her as the ranch, knew he struggled within where she was concerned, and even understood why. What she couldn't foresee or fathom was what he would do about it, when and how he would find a way to fit her into his life or send her away. Eventually, he probably would have to do the latter. Her spirits and good humor dimmed as she realized that day would be too soon even if it were a hundred years from now.
"Sunflower?" Cole whispered. "Are you all right?"
Taking a long invigorating breath, she leaned back on an elbow and cocked an eyebrow. "Me? I am fine. Why would I not be fine? You have brought me to your beautiful home, and your sister has been kind and helpful and so very thoughtful, she has made me feel like a friend." Sunny picked up the hem of her skirt and shook it with gusto. "See what she has done? Nellie has put more length on this and some of her dresses just for me. How can I be anything but fine?"