by Connie Mason
“Cole! I can’t! Oh, God!” She was sobbing now, driven so close to the edge she feared she’d explode. Then she did. So intensely she died a little before regaining her senses.
Cole pounded into her again and again, galloping at full speed toward his own climax. When he came, he spent himself inside her, too overcome to withdraw.
Chapter Fifteen
Cole returned to Bozeman the following day to pick up the wagon and oxen he’d purchased the day before. The wagon was ready as promised. Cole would have paid the blacksmith and left immediately, but the man was in a garrulous mood.
“It’s a damn shame what happened to General Custer,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “The man is a hero. Rumor has it the army is sending out patrols to avenge his death. Reprisal has already begun. Soon there won’t be an Injun left alive to give us any more trouble. Every chief will be forced to surrender his people and be jailed or executed.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Cole muttered.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing important. How about the Indians? How great were their losses?”
“News travels slow, but I heard their losses were light. They hightailed it back to Powder River country with their wounded and dead.”
“Thanks again for finishing the job so quickly,” Cole said. “I’ll bring my oxen around and hitch them to the wagon. I want to be on the trail as soon as possible.”
“You going it alone? Wagon trains come through here regularly throughout the summer. One just passed a few days ago. You might be able to catch it if you’re so all-fired determined not to wait for the next one.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
An hour later Cole was on his way back to the campsite to get Dawn.
He found her sitting beneath a tree, holding the rifle across her knees. She jumped up to greet him and then turned to inspect the wagon. It wasn’t as large as a Conestoga but built along the same lines. The bed was deep enough to hold all their supplies, and the white canvas top looked sturdy enough to keep out the worst of weather.
“I’ve filled the water barrels and stowed all the supplies. Since we don’t have any furniture or personal belongings to transport, there is plenty of room for us to sleep inside during foul weather. When the weather is good we can sleep under the stars.”
Dawn thought sleeping under the stars with Cole sounded wonderful.
They easily located the trail. It was deeply rutted from hundreds upon hundreds of wagon wheels and worn down by the feet of emigrants heading west.
The first several days passed without their seeing a single soul. Later they encountered an occasional traveler or two. The trail grew rough as they climbed into the high country. Two weeks into their journey they overtook the wagon train that had left Bozeman several days ahead of them. Cole conversed with the wagon master, who invited them to join the train. Cole hurried back to tell Dawn.
“Do you think it’s safe?” Dawn asked worriedly.
“These people don’t even know what happened at the Little Big Horn,” Cole said. “They might not find out for weeks yet. By that time they’ll have come to know you, and your mixed blood won’t matter to them.”
Dawn wasn’t as convinced as Cole. “Are you sure it’s the right thing to do?”
“It’s far safer traveling with a group. When wagons break down, there is always someone to help with repairs. We’ll try it. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll leave and go it alone.”
Days turned into weeks. The trail didn’t get any easier. Wagons broke down. People got sick and died. Throughout it all, the women of the wagon train treated Dawn with cool reserve. Most had either experienced or heard about Indian brutality and held half-breeds in the same contempt as savages. Dawn kept to herself, depending upon Cole for company. She knew that whatever friendship the emigrants extended to her was because of Cole.
Cole made himself indispensable in many ways. He hunted for the entire wagon train, dividing his catch equally among the families. He helped wherever he was needed and was approached whenever a level head was needed. Dawn found herself falling more deeply in love with him every day. They still made love regularly, with Cole carefully spilling his seed outside her body. Dawn’s hope that she carried Cole’s child was dashed when she had positive proof that she wasn’t pregnant. She supposed it was for the best, but mourned the children she’d never have.
Dawn learned that Cole had sent a telegram to his sister from Bozeman, alerting her to his visit, and she wondered if he had mentioned the fact that he was bringing a woman with him who wasn’t his legal wife. Whether he had or hadn’t, she was still leery of meeting Cole’s family. Would they like her? One thing was certain: When Cole left, she had no intention of imposing on Cole’s sister.
Dawn wondered if Cole’s sister was prejudiced against Indians. Would the fact that Dawn was a half-breed make her any less welcome in Ashley’s home? How would Cole introduce her? Legally, she wasn’t Cole’s wife. Would his family consider her Cole’s whore? So many questions, so few answers. All she could do was wait and see.
The journey over the Oregon Trail ended six arduous weeks from the day they left Bozeman. They left the wagon train at Oregon City, bidding good-bye to their traveling companions, some of whom were traveling north to Washington. The rest would continue west to the Oregon coast.
They left the wagon and oxen at the livery to be sold and rode their horses to the MacTavish house. Cole seemed to know the way as they turned down several winding streets, heading toward the outskirts of town.
“Don’t the MacTavishes live in town?” Dawn asked
“They built a large house close to the sawmill a few years ago. It’s not far.”
They turned down a narrow road cut out of a forest of towering pine, Douglas fir, spruce and cedar. A short time later the house came into view. Solidly built against a backdrop of thickly forested hills, the rustic two-story structure had a rough wooden exterior that blended perfectly with its surroundings. Dawn’s mouth gaped open as they approached the house. Never had she seen a house so large or splendid.
“It’s beautiful—and so big,” she said, clearly awed. She didn’t belong in a place like this.
Cole laughed. “Ashley thought so too, but it’s what Tanner wanted for her. He insisted on building her the finest home this side of the Mississippi.”
“He must love her a great deal,” Dawn said wistfully. “Were they childhood sweethearts?”
“Hardly,” Cole said, vastly amused. “Ashley was denied a place on a wagon train because she had no husband or family, so she paid Tanner to marry her.”
Dawn’s mouth gaped open in disbelief. “She paid for a husband? That must have taken a great deal of courage.”
“There’s more. You don’t know Ashley. When she makes up her mind to something, she’ll let nothing stand in her way. I’d been jailed at Fort Bridger for a crime I didn’t commit, and Ash was determined to clear my name.”
“Did she? Clear your name, I mean.”
“In a way. Unfortunately, she was captured by Running Elk before she reached the fort. He saw her and believed she was the red-haired medicine woman promised to them in a shaman’s dream. She was called Flame by the People.”
“Your sister was a captive? How did she get away? Did you rescue her? No, you couldn’t have, you were in jail.”
“That’s another story. Tanner came to the fort seeking help from the army to rescue Ashley and ended up breaking me out of jail. We found Running Elk’s village but became captives ourselves.” His voice broke and he grew pensive. “That was where I met Morning Mist.”
“How did you escape? And how did you became such good friends with Running Elk when you were his captive?”
“I met Morning Mist and fell in love. My affections were returned, and we were joined according to Indian customs shortly afterward. But that’s only half the story. Do you recall seeing the hank of red hair woven in Running Elk’s hair?” Dawn nodd
ed. “It’s Running Elk’s good-luck charm, a talisman from Ashley to bring him good fortune. Ashley gave him a hank of her hair, and he’s worn it ever since. Ashley and Tanner were allowed to leave the village, but I wanted to remain with Morning Mist. Then something happened and I had to leave.”
“What was that?”
“The man responsible for the murder I was accused of came to the village to trade with the People. I took him back to the fort to stand trial and to clear my name. I didn’t want to be a wanted man the rest of my days. My case was reopened and I was found innocent. It all took longer than I had expected, and I was unable to return to Morning Mist as quickly as I would have liked.”
He paused, finding it difficult to continue.
“During my absence the village was attacked by Crow raiders. Morning Mist was slain in the raid. She carried my child.”
Dawn felt his pain as if it were her own.
“That was eight years ago,” Cole continued. “Running Elk suggested that I stay with his people during my time of mourning. I learned skills I would have never learned on my own. I owe Running Elk and the People a great deal.”
“Why did you leave?”
“Running Elk moved his people to the reservation. It was time for me to leave. I found a job with the Pinkertons, then made a brief trip to Oregon to visit Ashley and Tanner. I’ve spent the past two years on special assignment with the railroad.”
“Thank you,” Dawn said.
“For what?”
“For telling me. It helps to understand you better. Morning Mist must have been a very special woman. I wish …” Her words drifted away.
Cole searched Dawn’s face, suddenly unable to recall Morning Mist’s beloved features. It frightened him. Morning Mist’s image had been with him so long he couldn’t imagine life without it. Yet at this moment he could recall nothing but how much he enjoyed making love to Dawn, how sweetly she clung to him and called his name when he brought her to climax. He shook his head, trying to dispel the gnawing hunger for Dawn that was always with him.
They had reached the house now, and Dawn watched with trepidation as a flame-haired woman darted out of the door to greet them. She was so beautiful the sight of her nearly took Dawn’s breath away. Dawn felt dull and lifeless compared to the brightness and sunlight Cole’s sister exuded. She was a feminine version of Cole.
Cole leaped from his mount and held his arms wide. His sister rushed into his open arms, her green eyes awash with tears. Cole hugged her tightly, and Dawn wished she held only a small part of the love he felt for his twin.
Dawn stood apart, watching the poignant reunion between brother and sister. There was a strong bond there, she reflected, and she suddenly felt like an intruder. She wondered if Cole’s hair had ever been as bright a red as his sister’s. Living flame was the only description Dawn could think of to describe Ashley’s hair. It was no wonder Running Elk had considered her some kind of goddess.
Ashley and Cole parted, their hands clinging as they stared at one another. “You’ve changed,” Ashley said. “Your face is older, harder.” She tested the muscles of his forearms and laughed. “Your body is harder, too. Shame on you for waiting so long between visits. It’s been four years! You’ve yet to see your new niece. You left before she was born.”
“I’m here now,” Cole said. “God, I’m glad to see you.” He gave her another quick hug. Ashley’s gaze slid past Cole to Dawn, noticing her for the first time.
“You’re not alone,” she said, surprise coloring her words. “Where are your manners, Cole? Who is your companion?”
Ashley’s eyes, so like Cole’s in color and shape, glittered with curiosity. The last time she’d seen her brother he was still grieving for his dead wife. When she’d suggested that Cole should find another woman, he’d told her he’d never remarry, never have a child now that Morning Mist was dead. Ashley had believed that time would heal his broken heart. But as the years passed and Cole remained single, she’d despaired of his ever finding another woman to love.
Cole moved to Dawn’s side. “This is Dawn. My … wife. Dawn, this is Ashley, my twin sister.”
“Your wife!” Ashley exclaimed, shocked and delighted. “I never … why didn’t you write that you had remarried?”
Dawn sent Cole a startled look. How could he introduce them as husband and wife when they weren’t really married? What would Ashley think of her when she learned the truth? “I’m happy to meet you,” she said, finally finding her tongue. “I hope I’m not imposing.”
Ashley remembered her manners once her shock passed. “Nothing of the sort. It’s about time Cole found someone to love. You’re a pretty little thing. Come inside, you must be exhausted after so arduous a journey.”
“Where is Tanner?” Cole asked as he followed Ashley inside the house.
“He and Price are at the sawmill. Our son is going to follow in his father’s footsteps. He accompanies Tanner to the sawmill every chance he gets, even though he’s only six.”
“And my niece? How is she?”
“Lily is fine,” Ashley said.
“Lily is a little lady now, all of eight years old. Tanner spoils her outrageously.”
“She probably has her mother’s temperament,” Cole teased. “Does she have red hair like you?”
“No, thank God. It’s black as sin, just like her father’s. Pierce’s hair is more like yours. Not flaming red, more the color of mahogany. You’ll see them soon.”
Dawn could find no words to describe the house. Her entire cabin would fit in the parlor. She was surprised to find no fancy furnishings, nothing pretentious. There were good sturdy pieces polished to a high luster, overstuffed sofas, comfortable chairs and thick carpets on the floor.
The rooms she could see were spacious and comfortable. Nevertheless, the house boasted more luxury than Dawn was accustomed to and it intimidated her a bit.
“I’ll bet you’re starved,” Ashley said, taking note of Dawn’s slim figure. “Have you been starving your wife, Cole? She’s thin as a rail.”
“I’ve always been thin,” Dawn said, absolving Cole of all blame.
“I’ll show you to your room. You can rest while I ask the cook to prepare something to hold you over until supper. We have our main meal in the evening, when Tanner returns from the mill. Come along.” She led the way up the stairs, chattering as she went.
The bedroom was huge and attractively furnished. The focal point was a large four-poster bed covered with a patchwork quilt. The rest of the furnishings consisted of washstand, desk, dresser, two chairs and wardrobe, all highly polished and built for comfort.
“I hope this will suit you,” Ashley said anxiously. “It’s the best guest room in the house.”
“It’s … perfect,” Dawn said, noting the magnificent view from the window.
Ashley turned to Cole. Her eyes held a mischievous sparkle. “Would you like separate rooms?”
“I’ll share my wife’s room,” he said, sending his sister a cocky grin.
“I thought you might.” Ashley’s answering grin was every bit as cocky as Cole’s.
“There’s a bathroom down the hall,” Ashley said. “With a water closet, bathtub and running hot and cold water. Tanner thought of everything. He dug a well and built a windmill to pump water into the house. There’s even a coal burner in the cellar to heat the pipes that carry hot water.”
“Hot water,” Dawn repeated, clearly impressed. “And a water closet. I never imagined such indulgence. It must have cost a great deal to build in those luxuries.”
“The lumber business is very successful. Tanner exports lumber all over the world. Did Cole tell you that he’s grown quite wealthy from his investment in the business? Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I’ll check with the cook. Meanwhile, take a hot bath, it will relax you after your long trip. Come downstairs in about an hour.”
“Why did you tell her we were married?” Dawn asked when they were alone. “I don’t like lying to your siste
r.”
“Did you want me to tell her we’re sharing a room without benefit of marriage?”
Dawn’s blue eyes widened, then narrowed. “You wouldn’t! We don’t have to share a room. You could have taken another room. Surely a house this size has more than one guest room.”
“There are several, if I recall correctly. And I have no intention of sleeping alone while I’m here. We’ve been sleeping together for several months now. A few more weeks can’t make any difference. Now, would you like that bath Ashley mentioned?”
“In hot water,” Dawn said longingly. “It sounds wonderful.”
“Come, I’ll show you where it is.” He held the door open and ushered her down the hall to the bathroom.
The modern bathroom boggled Dawn’s mind. She’d seen nothing to compare to this kind of luxury. While the tub was filling with water, Cole showed her how to work the water closet. There was also a sink with hot and cold running water. When the tub was full, Cole left, affording her privacy to use the water closet and undress.
Dawn sank into the tub, letting the hot water caress her skin. She found a bar of fragrant soap in a soap dish and worked up a rich lather. Suds dropped into her eyes, and she reached for the washcloth she’d seen draped over the tub.
“Are you looking for this?”
Dawn started violently. “Cole, I didn’t hear you come in.” She snatched the washcloth from his hand, expecting him to leave. Instead, he began unbuttoning his shirt. “What are you doing?”
“Tanner built the tub big enough for two. I’m going to share your bath.” He stripped off his shirt and stepped out of his pants.
Dawn stared at him. As often as she’d seen him naked she still found something new to admire about him each time he disrobed. Everything about him pleased her. Still, bathing in the same tub with him was a new experience. Did men and women normally bathe together or was Cole pushing the limits of decency? She decided to ask him.