Frontier Fires

by Rosanne Bittner

  “I think so.” Her own heart pounded, not so much with the daring thing they had just done, but also because she was entirely alone now with this young Indian man who intended to marry her. She had trusted him. But truly being alone with him was a little frightening, until he stopped the horse and threw his leg over in front of him, sliding down. He reached up for her then.

  “We’ll rest,” he told her.

  Their eyes held a moment.

  “It’s all right, Bess,” he told her. “Don’t be afraid of me. You don’t even have to marry me if you don’t want. I’ll just take you back to our ranch and we’ll keep you there.”

  She leaned down and he grasped her about the waist, lifting her down with strong arms. “I’m so nervous,” she admitted.

  He smiled, a warm, understanding smile that took away some of her fear. “Hey, we are not going to do anything you don’t want to do. Now, you tell me, do you want to go to the ranch, or to the mission?”

  She studied the handsome face. He had just risked his life for her, and it was not over yet. Surely he knew how angry her father would be. But he didn’t seem to care. Surely he did love her and was most wonderful and brave to do what he had just done. She swallowed.

  “Do you love me, Tom?”

  He sobered, studying her with dark eyes of passion. “How can you ask that after what I just did? Yes. I love you. It sounds crazy, I know. It’s so soon But I love you.” He put a hand to the side of her face. “And I want you.” He bent down, meeting her mouth gently, sending shivers of desire through her innocent body. Oh, yes, he loved her, and he would be gentle with her. He drew back, holding her eyes. “Don’t be afraid of me, Bess. I won’t hurt you. I want to take care of you for the rest of my life. I want you to live with me, be my wife. But only when you’re ready. You decide.”

  She trembled with the excitement of what it all meant. And yet it seemed so right to want to let this man have his way with her, to enjoy her. She wanted to please him, to show him she was a woman. She had been so lonely, and he was beautiful, and strong. She never dreamed anyone could cause her to defy her own father so blatantly. But the deed was done. Her father would never forgive her now. There was no going back.

  “I want to get married,” she told him. “I truly do—right away—so Father can’t take me away from you. But … it scares me a little.”

  He smoothed back her hair. “We will do only what you want to do. You will be my wife. Whether you are my wife physically doesn’t matter. We don’t have to tell anyone that we have not been one. Let them think it. That’s all that matters.”

  The wonderful desires rippled through her again. She wanted him so. It was a strange sort of fear, an excited, almost wonderful fear. She nodded. “Let’s get married then.”

  He smiled, then hugged her tightly, whirling her around in his arms. “I love you, Bess Hafer. Soon you will be Elizabeth Sax.”

  She smiled, hugging him tightly around the neck, catching his long, dark hair in her arms. He lowered her slightly until their faces were close. They kissed again, her breasts pressed tightly against him. “I love you, too,” she told him. “I love you, Tom Sax.”

  * * *

  They rode the rest of the day. Bess felt free and alive again, happy for the first time in months, except for the stabbing pain of knowing she was defying her father, and at the realization that her father was so different now from what he once was. Things would never be the same between them again, but that couldn’t be helped. She couldn’t bear the thought of going back to St. Louis and never seeing Tom Sax again.

  They had to make camp for the night. It was over a day’s ride to the mission, and it had already been afternoon when Tom rode off with her. Bess was losing all her apprehensiveness. When they stopped to relieve themselves, he never came near her. And that night he slept beside her, his arms around her to keep her warm. Yet he never touched her rudely or suggested they do something they shouldn’t. It was as though he understood she would have to be his wife first, respected her for it.

  In the morning they were off again, and by the next afternoon they reached the mission. The old priest there, Father Raphael, married them quickly out of the kindness of his heart. He was an old man who knew the Sax family well, and although he suspected parental approval had not been given, he saw the deep love in their eyes, and felt their eagerness. Better to legalize that which they were going to do anyway, than to let them fall into sin. He blessed them several times over, telling them he would pray there would be no trouble for them.

  Father Raphael made the ceremony lovely. A nun helped Bess bathe first and gave her a pretty white robe to wear, promising to wash the clothes she had worn on the long, dusty ride. She brushed her hair out long and put flowers in it from indoor pots that were kept alive at the mission in winter, tended to by the nuns.

  When Tom saw Bess then his blood surged hot. She was beautiful, and all in white, just as she should be. He had bathed himself and wore clean pants and a shirt, wishing he had taken the white buckskins along that his father had given him. They were made of beautifully bleached doeskin with a splendid Indian design woven from beads right into the garment. It was a stunning set of Indian clothing, given to Caleb by the Cheyenne, passed on to Tom. He had always planned on wearing the clothes for a very special occasion, such as his marriage, but this had all happened so fast. He was not prepared, nor was he prepared for the way Bess looked now, a vision of innocence and beauty.

  She stood beside him, and they said their vows with enthusiastic sincerity. Soon it was over, and Tom thanked Father Raphael.

  “You must stay the night here,” the priest told them. “It is too late to try to leave tonight, too dangerous to be out there alone. There is a room at the back of the mission; a small one, but it has a bed and a fireplace. You are welcome to stay there.”

  Tom put an arm around Bess’s waist. “Thank you, Father. We might stay an extra day or so. We have to stay in hiding for a while. If you could keep my horse out of sight, I would be most grateful. Don’t tell anyone you’ve seen us.”

  “Of course not. Come.” The old man led them down a long, dark hallway and opened a heavy oak door into a small room where a fire was already burning. Fresh biscuits sat on the table and a pot of coffee hung over the fire, as well as a deep kettle of stew. A wooden cabinet held a washbasin and a pitcher of water, as well as some towels and soap, and in a corner behind a curtain was a chamber pot.

  “There. You see? The nuns have provided everything you need. They are excited about the young newlyweds.” The priest eagerly led them inside. “No one will disturb you and we will tell no one that you are here.” He put his hand on Tom’s arm and held his eyes. “Be good to her, son. She is hardly more than a child.”

  Tom nodded. “I love her, Father. I won’t hurt her.”

  The old man smiled and nodded, taking Bess’s hand and patting it before leaving. Bess’s face was crimson with the realization of what they had been talking about. She watched the door close and suddenly felt weak. It had all happened so quickly. She was Mrs. Tom Sax. She liked the sound of it, but felt almost faint from nervous anticipation. Tom seemed calm and sure as he walked over to the pot of stew and sniffed it.

  “This was very nice of them.” He looked at her. “You hungry? We haven’t eaten since this morning.”

  She stood rigid and shook her head. “No,” she said quietly. “I don’t think I could eat right now.”

  He smiled. “Hey, there is no reason to be afraid.” He walked over to her, taking her arm and leading her to the bed. “You look ready to pass out.” He knelt in front of her and took her hands. “You are going to eat whether you want to or not, and then you are going to sleep. Surely the night before last, when you knew you were going away, you didn’t sleep well. Last night we slept little, and that was on the cold ground. You’ll be sick. Now sit right there and I’ll get you a dish of that stew and a biscuit.”

  She watched him with wide eyes as he did just that and i
nsisted she eat. She managed to swallow some of it and chew the biscuit, as well as drink some coffee. He pulled back the covers of the bed then. “Get in,” he told her. “Get some sleep. I don’t want my new wife getting sick.” He began unbuttoning her shoes.

  Her eyes brimmed with tears then. “I’m sorry, Tom. I’m a terrible wife, aren’t I? This isn’t what you wanted.”

  He smiled resignedly. “If you had come at me like a wanton woman, I would have been disappointed. That isn’t my Bess.” He pulled off her shoes. “Go on, now, get some sleep.”

  She wiped tears. “Are you sure?”

  He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I’m sure.”

  “What will you do?”

  “Eat, and sleep.”

  “Where?”

  He laughed lightly. “Right beside you in that bed, that’s where.” He kissed the other cheek. “Don’t worry. I am just as tired as you are. You won’t be disturbed. I at least deserve to get to sleep beside you, don’t I?”

  She smiled through her tears and nodded. She suddenly hugged him then. “Thank you, Tom. I love you so.”

  He patted her back, feeling already the pain of abstinence. She turned and moved under the blankets, curling up into the pillow and letting him tuck the blankets around her still-clothed body. He quietly got his own food and ate, sitting down in a chair and watching her. In moments she was fast asleep.

  Tom finished his meal and stood up, watching her sleep for several minutes, studying her beauty; the long, thick, auburn hair, and the fine bones of her face. He longed to do with her the things he had done with Rosy, explore every part of her, claim every inch of her, invade her, possess her. But he had to be patient. He began removing his clothes then, stripping down to the nude. He always slept that way. It was the first step. She might as well get used to it.

  He crawled in beside her, pulling the covers over him and pulling her close. She slept so soundly she didn’t even realize what he was doing. He nestled his face into the thick hair, smelling its sweet scent, and fell asleep wondering how long it would take Hafer to find out his daughter had ridden off with an Indian. It wouldn’t take the man long to figure out who the Indian was.

  Tom only hoped his own father wouldn’t be too angry for doing this without consulting him first. Caleb was probably wondering right now what had happened to him. But a messenger had been sent right away and should reach his father by morning with the letter letting Caleb know he had married Charles Hafer’s daughter.

  Caleb gathered his men. Two full days had passed since the day he’d left town without Tom and his son had still not returned home. Something was wrong. He would check things out at San Felipe first, then ride directly to Hafer’s if Tom was not there. If anything had happened to him, the first place to look was Charles Hafer’s ranch. Sarah came out the door, Lynda behind her, holding her new baby. None of them thought she should be up walking around, but she was worried about her brother and couldn’t lie still.

  “Caleb, be careful,” Sarah called out to him as he mounted his horse.

  “Father, he told you he had something to do. Maybe he’s all right.”

  “He’s never done this before,” Caleb answered. “Something is wrong.”

  John rode up beside him. “I’m going, too, Pa. He helped find me. Now I’ll help find him.”

  “You stick close to me and do what I tell you,” Caleb told the boy.

  “I will, Pa.”

  They both hesitated. Jake Highwater came riding hard toward them. “A rider is coming, Caleb,” he called out, while still at a distance.

  “Who is it?”

  “Don’t know. Looks like an Apache Indian.”

  Caleb frowned, looking at Sarah. “You and Lynda had better get inside. It’s too cold out here. I’ll be right back.”

  He turned his horse and rode out to meet the intruder, too anxious to wait for the man to reach the house. John and Jake rode beside him and the women waited at the house, watching out a window as the men met far in the distance.

  Caleb jerked his mount to a halt in front of the stranger, who had already been surrounded by more Sax men.

  “He says he has a message for you, Mister Sax,” one of them said.

  “Message—just for Caleb Sax,” the Indian told Caleb.

  Caleb studied him warily. “Who are you?”

  “Fast Wolf. I am Christian now,” the man said with a grin that showed two teeth missing. “Be good Indian now—help Father Raphael at the St. Matthew mission. He gives me written message for Caleb Sax; say I give only to him.”

  Caleb frowned. “Father Raphael?”

  The man nodded.

  The mission! Was Tom hurt? “I’m Caleb Sax,” he told the Apache. “You can give me the message.”

  The man handed the piece of paper to Caleb. “You are welcome to come to the house for something hot to eat and drink before you go back, Fast Wolf,” Caleb told the man.

  Fast Wolf nodded. “Fast Wolf is grateful. What Indian are you, Caleb Sax?”

  “Half Cheyenne,” Caleb answered, opening the note.

  “Cheyenne—they are good horse Indians. But your eyes. They are not Indian.”

  Caleb was reading the note and didn’t answer. He felt his blood chill at the words.

  “Father. Forgive me, but I could tell no one. I have married Bess. Her father was sending her away. I couldn’t let her go. I took her from the boat and came to the mission, where Father Raphael married us. Bess must rest for a couple of days. It has all been hard on her, but she loves me and I love her. I couldn’t let her get away from me. We will be home soon and explain more. Please welcome her. She has been through so much and needs your friendship. I know there will be trouble. Now you will be ready for it. I’m sorry. Love, Tom.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Caleb muttered. He refolded the note and put it in his pocket.

  “Is Tom all right, Caleb?” Jake asked.

  Caleb paled, then smiled sarcastically. “He’s fine—having a good time, in fact, breaking in a new wife.”

  “Wife! Tom? But who—”

  “Elizabeth Hafer,” Caleb finished.

  Jake’s eyes widened. “Miss Hafer?” He shook his head and pushed back his hat. “That’s going to be big trouble, Caleb. What about the water?”

  Caleb looked northward toward Blue Valley. “We are still going to raid those canals and get rid of them. We have enough men,” he answered. “We’ll wait until Tom gets here.”

  “My brother is married?” John asked in surprise.

  Caleb rubbed his eyes. “Yes, son, I’m afraid so. I can’t fully blame him. But there is going to be big trouble over this one.” He looked at Fast Wolf. “How long has my son been there?”

  “Come yesterday.”

  Caleb nodded. “Yesterday then.” He turned his horse. “Come on,” he told Jake and the others. “I’m not quite certain how to break this to Sarah.” He rode back toward the house and the others followed, including Fast Wolf.

  Caleb was lost in thought, both glad and angry with Tom. He had been all set to raid the Hafer ranch. This only made it all the more dangerous. And the danger would upset Sarah. He hadn’t even told her about Byron Clawson owning the Hafer land. He wanted to put off her knowledge of that for as long as possible. He always hated bringing up that man’s name to her.

  He told himself he had no call to be angry with Tom. Caleb had to remember what it was like for him and Sarah: how he felt, how he’d tried to run away with her in spite of her father’s protests. The only thing he could do now was make sure none of the terrible things that had happened to them would happen to Tom and Bess. His heart tightened with the awful fear of losing his son. Hafer would be after Tom’s hide now. He had to protect him.

  Tom and Bess spent the day walking in the crisp air around the ancient stone porticoes of the mission, sometimes sitting inside the large sanctuary, talking quietly in the high-ceilinged, echoey chamber painted with Biblical scenery. It seemed as though they were the only t
wo people in the world. Bess was never more sure who she loved. They had slept the night together and he hadn’t touched her, even though he lay naked beside her. She awoke to find him still asleep but with the covers thrown off, and he was beautiful and intriguing in his raw splendor. Yet it had been frightening also, until he awoke and pulled on his long underwear.

  Somehow Tom knew her every instinct, her fears, her anticipation. He knew she had to talk, and he wanted the same—to get to know better this young woman who was his wife. When they walked outside the next day she cried about her dead mother, and about the whole mess over her brother’s death. He held and comforted her. He revealed to her his longing to have known his own Cheyenne mother and reminded her she was lucky to at least have known her own mother. She told him about the farm and her friends back in Missouri. He talked of boyhood days, of growing up in Texas with a father with whom he was very close, raised by a Cherokee woman who died in an outlaw raid. He told of his father’s great agony during those dark times, for he had also lost a son. And he told her again of how Sarah and Lynda had found them, of the reunion between his father and Sarah. He expressed his love of Texas, where he had lived most of his life. She talked of her fear of war with Mexico and her fear he would have to go to war himself.

  “We won’t think about that now,” Tom told her. “We’ll just think about us.”

  There had been the kiss then, the beautiful kiss, the daring but gentle fondling of her breasts through her dress, the marvelous joy of realizing she liked it. It was easy to let him touch her. Her skin was suddenly on fire and she nestled her face against his neck.

  “Take me back to our room,” she whispered.

  He said nothing. He stood up and picked her up in his arms and carried her there, kicking shut the door and capturing her mouth with his own as he laid her on the bed. What fears she had left were kissed away, shoved aside with gentle words of love, rubbed away by his expert touch in all the right places. Her clothes were coming off and she did not resist. His movements were deliberate, his attitude gentle but demanding in the sense that he knew what he was doing and she should relax and let him show her the path to ecstasy.