Colin, who headed the party, feared that some of their group would be lost in the blinding snowstorm and recommended that they give up for the night. Tennihill and Herb came to the house with nearly frozen faces. Colin talked while they tried to thaw out
“The teacher said she wore only a light shawl and nothin’ on her head. I know of no shelter in the direction she took. lf she didn’t find one, she’ll frozen to death by now. We’ll go out again in the morning.”
After taking Jane’s pulse, the doctor decided it was safe for him to go home.
“Should she begin to shake, give her whiskey and sugar and send someone for me immediately.’’
T.C. walked with him to the door to make sure the snow had let up enough that he wouldn’t get lost on his way back to his rooms.
“Thank you, Dr. Bate.”
“I’ll be back in the morning.”
T.C. had appreciated the lack of questions from those who had helped look for Jane the night she was attacked in the privy. Colin and Sunday, Herb and Polly, Tennihill Bill Wassall and Maude, the “family,” as Jane liked to refer to them, were here keeping vigil now that she had been attacked again. T.C. felt certain that Jane would want them to know the reason behind the attacks.
Polly was sitting with Jane when T.C. sat down at the kitchen-table with the others.
“I know you’ve all wondered about Jane and why someone would be sending her threatening notes, then doing what they did to her that night and again today. For Jane’s sake, no word of what I’m going to tell you should leave this house. I don’t want her to be embarrassed, humiliated, or put in the position of having to answer questions.”
“We’ve all wondered who’d hate her enough to do what they done at the privy,” Maude said, as she poured mugs of steaming coffee.
“You’ve all heard of Colonel John Chivington, who commanded the troops that wiped out the village at Sand Creek.”
“Who hasn’t heard of that murderin’ sonofabitch?” Colin asked harshly.
“His troops were a collection of thieves, scoundrels, street toughs, claim jumpers and riffraff and were easily led by a Bible-spouting ex-preacher and Methodist missionary turned avenger who had a hatred for all Indians.” T.C. said all of this without taking a breath. “They slaughtered four hundred women, children and old men. Chivington reported that he had met the enemy and had given them a sound whipping. For a month or two he was a hero.
“After his men began talking and an investigation was conducted, he became the most hated man in the territory. Because of what he had done, Indians all over Colorado went on the warpath in retaliation and killed hundreds, if not thousands, of settlers. Almost every person in the territory was touched in one way or another by what Chivington had done.”
“What’s he got to do with Jane?” Colin asked.
“She’s his born out of wedlock daughter.” The news fell into the quiet like the pop of a rifle.
“Ah… laws!” Bill exclaimed. “Poor little lass!”
“Well, so what?” Sunday was first to recover from the shock. “Lots a folks are born on the wrong side of the blanket.”
“Her mother died when Jane was very young, and she thinks it was Chivington who came in the dark of the night, carried her off and put her in the Methodist orphanage. She has a letter he wrote to her mother admitting that he fathered her, but refusing to claim her. Since she was Stella’s age it has been pounded into her head that because she was the daughter of such a man, she was a disgrace not only to the school, but to all the people of Colorado. The headmistress, a Mrs. Gillis, would threaten to tell her secret and shame her in front of the other children if she misbehaved. She had already told them that Jane was a… a bastard. Jane’s childhood was hell.”
“Why that mean old… bitch!” Sunday sputtered.
“Jane hasn’t had too good a time of it since she came to Timbertown.” Colin pulled his wife over to sit on his lap.
“She came here,” T.C. continued, “thinking to leave all that behind her. She got the first note the day she arrived at the stage station.”
“It ain’t no wonder she wanted to leave,” Herb said. “How’d she stand up to all that?”
T.C. continued determinedly.
“It was in her mind that if it became known that she had the same blood as Chivington she would be shunned, treated like a leper, and no parent would want her teaching their children. She couldn’t bear to face that.”
“It’s hard to understand why Mrs. Winters wanted to kill her.” Maude clicked her tongue. “My, my. Ain’t it a shame to make her suffer for what he did? I just wish I’d a knowed what was ridin’ her so hard. I could a told her that folk’d not hold her to account for what he did.”
“Mrs. Winters must have lost her mind. I still don’t know how she knew who Jane was or why her hatred was so unreasonable.” T.C. stood. He wanted to get back to Jane.
“Mrs. Winters’ mind warn’t so steady when she come here,” Bill said stoutly. “She’d go along quiet-like, than turn downright mean. It’d come on sudden-like. Times was I wasn’t wantin’ to be ‘round her and a tub a hot grease at the same time. She warn’t nice none a’tall to that little boy either when folks wasn’t around.”
“I been knowin’ that for a white,” Maude said. “Buddy let it slip that he didn’t want me tellin’ her that I was makin’ his shepherd costume for the play.”
“Good Lord!” T.C. sat back down “Now that I think of it, Jenson at the store was complaining that she didn’t pay her bill. Just kept charging her supplies when he knew that she was taking in money to pay for them. When he asked her about the bill, she said that she had to hurry home and take care of her little sister. Jenson said it was strange because he knew she didn’t have a sister here. He questioned her about it, and she became very angry.” T.C. grimaced as if in pain. “I should have followed up on what he told me.”
“Buddy’s such a smart little boy. He may know some of the answers. Poor little tad,” Maude said. “He’s too tore up now to know much about anythin’.”
“He was lookin’ forward to the Christmas doin’s. Now I guess there won’t be none.” Sunday pressed her fingers over Colin’s mouth after he spoke.
“Course there’ll be a program. Jane’d want it to go on. All them little young’uns’d be put out if it didn’t.”
“You’re goin’ to see that it does, aren’t you?” Colin loved every expression that flitted across her face.
“Ya can bet yore britches on that, Mr. lalhnan.”
He pulled her head toward him and whispered in her ear.
“I’d rather be in yours, Mrs. Tallman.”
Because of the raging snowstorm, Colin and Sunday spent the night in the room she had used before. Tennihill and Bill bedded down beside the cookstove, and Buddy snuggled on one side of Maude and Stella on the other.
T.C. left the lamp burning on the table beside the bed. After putting more wood in the stove, he lay down beside his wife, took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. He pondered over and over again how it had happened that a madwoman had almost killed her right under his very nose.
He had jumped to the conclusion that the person threatening her was a man. He’d not had the slightest suspicion that it was a woman. Mrs. Winters had been so pleased, he’d thought, at having her own bake shop.
It was all over now. He vowed that from this day on he would do everything in his power to keep Jane safe and happy.
Once during the night she stirred, and he was instantly awake. She felt warm, but not feverish. She mumbled and went back to sleep.
Morning came and the doctor returned. Jane was awake and, although she was weak and in pain, he found nothing to keep her from a full recovery. He questioned her about her average monthly flow and was pleased when she said it usually lasted not over three days.
“That is good. You need to build your blood, not lose it.”
“There will be other… babies?” she asked quietly, her eyes going t
o her husband, who hovered nearby.
“Absolutely. I see no reason why not.”
The doctor’s eyes went from the relieved face of the big woodsman to the woman on the bed. Love radiated between them. For a moment he remembered having such a love, but as fast as the memory came he shoved it back into the corner of his mind. Life had to go on.
“Doctor,” T.C. said as the physician prepared to leave, “we would be pleased if you would join us for Christmas dinner. Mrs. Henderson has been cooking for three days. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.”
“Thank you. If her dinners are anything like the supper she served me last night, I might not be able to push myself away from the table.”
After the doctor left, T.C. returned to sit with Jane. He had hardly left her bedside. He brushed her hair and braided it in one long plait to keep it from tangling. Then he left the room for a moment and returned grinning like a schoolboy. He placed a box on the bed beside her.
“One of your Christmas presents. Open it now, sweetheart.”
“What in the world?” She looked at it, then at him, and her eyes filled with sparkling tears. “I’ve never opened a present. I’ve read about it, but never—”
He leaned over and shut off her words with a kiss.
“Don’t look back. Look ahead. Open it.”
She lifted the lid to find a beautiful white lawn nightdress with lace at the neck and the cuffs. A tiny row of buttons went from the neckline to the waist.
“It’s… beautiful—”
“You’re beautiful,” he said softly. “I’ll never forget the picture you made standing beside Doc’s bed in your nightdress, your feet bare, your cheeks rosy with embarrassment. I couldn’t get you out of my mind after that.”
“It’s so… soft.” Jane’s fingers stroked the material. “Oh, thank you!”
“I don’t know about the buttons,” he said with a stern expression. “My fingers will have a time with them.”
“Mine won’t All you’ve got to do is ask, my love.”
She was fearful that what had happened would put a blight on the Christmas program until Theda, swathed in furs, arrived, bringing with her fresh cold air. Her red hair flamed around her shoulders and she wore a white fur hat perched jauntily on her head.
“Merry Christmas! Glory be! That’s a pretty nightdress. You expecting visitors in your bed?” Jane laughed along with the flamboyant redhead.
“It’s a present from T.C.”
“Lucky girl. I don’t know why I like you. I really shouldn’t. You snatched up the best-looking man in town. But… I didn’t come to complain. I’ve been to the schoolhouse and talked to that sissy-britches teacher. You know, he isn’t so bad once you get to know him. The program will go on. It’ll take both Sunday and me to fill your shoes, but we think we can pull it off.”
“Theda! Thank you. The children have worked so hard. This is the first program they’ve ever had. But I’m worried about Buddy. This is a terrible time for him.”
Theda went to the door and closed it.
“Mrs. Winters was found and brought in a little while ago. A lumberjack coming down from the cutting camp to spend Christmas with his family found her. She was frozen so stiff he had a time getting her on his horse. Her madness had carried her miles up the mountainside.”
“Oh, goodness. The poor woman—”
“Poor woman, my foot! After what she did to you?”
“She was out of her mind, and we must make sure that Buddy realizes that she was sick in the head. He’s a little boy, Theda, and he must not be made to feel guilty for what his mother has done.”
The empty, sickening years of Jane’s childhood rushed back to haunt her. The pleading tone in her voice registered with Theda.
“No one will hold it against him. We thought… if you agree, that we’ll not tell him she’s dead until tonight after the program. The teacher said that he has worked harder than anyone on his part. It’ll be a double shame if he can’t be in the play.”
“You really are a nice woman, Theda. And you try hard not to let anyone know about it!”
“Horse-hockey! I’m a saloon gal. Men come to stare at my big tits.” She laughed. “As long as they buy drinks, they can stare all they want.”
All day visitors had streamed to the house bringing dishes of food and asking about Jane. The house was quiet now. Everyone had gone to the church for the Christmas program. Sitting beside his wife, who looked like an angel in her new nightdress, T.C. realized that she didn’t know how deeply she had endeared herself to the people of Timbertown.
“I wonder how the program is going,” she said, breaking into his thoughts.
“Worrier! They’ll miss you, but it will go fine.”
“Is Buddy all right? Has he asked about his mother?”
“He’s attached himself to Colin, and it seems Colin is attached to him. He asked Colin about his mother. Colin told him that she was sick and that she didn’t know what she was doing when she stabbed you. Colin kind of hinted that she wouldn’t be back, but didn’t come right out and say so.”
“Buddy probably knows—deep down.”
“Honey, I’ve something else to tell you.” He paused and worked his fingers between Jane’s. “Buddy asked if he would have to go live with his Aunt Ethel if his mother didn’t come back.”
“He doesn’t want to?”
“He’s scared to death he’ll be forced to. Colin asked him who his Aunt Ethel was and where she lived. Sweetheart, his Aunt Ethel is Mrs. Gillis, the headmistress at the orphanage.”
“Forevermore!” Jane was silent as she absorbed the news. “I remember when her brother-in-law died. She was terribly upset and blamed it on what had happened at Sand Creek. She told Mrs. Winters that I was coming here.”
“It seems that way.”
“Poor little boy. We can’t let him go live there!“
“He won’t go there, sweetheart. Colin asked me what I thought about his living with him and Sunday.”
“Oh, would they take him?” Jane grasped T.C.’s hand tighter. “And if not, could we?”
“They want him, sweetheart, and I see nothing that stands in the way.”
“Thank goodness! He’ll have a good home.”
“We’re going to have plenty of boys of our own, my love. I’m planning on it.” He kissed her lingeringly.
“We can’t get one started for a little while,” she said regretfully.
“I know. I can wait. Indians, especially Irish-Blackfoot Indians, are the most patient people in the world when it comes to the one they love. Did you know that?”
“I’m beginning to, Thunder Cloud, darlin’.”
The program was a huge success. Before Stella and Buddy went to bed, they went in to tell Jane about it and to show her the sack of candy and the orange Theda had given each of them. Maude scuttled into the kitchen to continue preparations for the Christmas dinner. Sunday and Colin went home, promising to return bright and early Christmas morning.
After closing the bedroom door, T.C. stoked the fire in the heater and added more wood.
“I want my wife all to myself. I’ve had to share you all day,” he added peevishly.
Lying on her side because of the wounds on her back and buttocks, Jane watched him undress. He was magnificent She adored his great, strong body and the dark face below his thatch of blue-black hair, familiar to her now as her very breath and still as heart-quickening as if she were seeing him for the first time.
This, she thought, is magic given to only a few—this drumbeat of pulses when her beloved was near. For more than four months of days and nights she had looked into that face, heard the deep, growling strength of that voice; come into his arms, kissed that mouth and found heaven. Yet each time it was new to her—each time more moving and more dear than the last
He lay down beside her, then gently, so as not to hurt her back and buttocks, turned her to lie half on top of him. She burrowed into the hollow of his arm and snuggled he
r face in the crook of his neck. Her breasts and soft belly were pressed tightly to him.
They lay contentedly for a long while. Her heart was filled with love for this man. He had given her so much and had asked for nothing in return. She moved her hand over his chest and her lips trailed kisses up his neck to his chin as she tried to convey to him all that was in her heart.
“Have I told you how glad I am that you refused to let me leave Timbertown? I’d have missed having the most wonderful man in the world for my husband.”
Laughter rumbled in his chest.
“My dear Miss Pickle. Do you remember calling this wonderful man you married a conniving, sneaky, stony-hearted jackass who brought you here to marry you off to a horny lumberjack?”
Riding the crest of this new happiness, Jane rubbed her head against his chest, then lifted her face up to his.
“I remember,” she sighed deeply. “I still think that’s why you brought me here, but a couple dozen kisses might make me change my mind.”
Epilogue
Timbertown, Wyoming—June 1898
The church was decorated with mountain fern and lily of the valley and crowded with well-wishers. The bride walked down the aisle on the arm of her stepfather, Marshal Tennihill, one of the most respected lawmen in the state. He would give her away to the groom, who waited at the front of the church. Maude’s eyes were flooded with tears. The groom’s eyes were riveted on the vision moving toward him.
Stella saw only the tall, sandy-haired man who stood beside the preacher. Buddy Tallman, adopted son of Colin and Sunday Tallman, was the youngest member of the Wyoming State House of Representives. This was their wedding day. Proud parents and friends had come to the church in Timbertown to witness the ceremony.
Every room in the hotel was full. T.C. Kilkenny, his wife Jane, and their three sons came from their ranch on the slopes of the Rocky Mountains. The Tallmans, with two girls and one son, came to see their boy wed his childhood sweetheart. Herb and Polly Banks were there. Their beautiful sixteen-year-old daughter was eyeing Tim Kilkenny. Her brother, Nathan, had teased her about him until their papa put a stop to it—after he had cornered his younger son, who thought it great fun to make faces at April Tallman.
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