Savage storm

by Conn, Phoebe

  "Definitely not," Jason agreed. He liked Erica very much. She and Lewis had seemed made for each other until she'd come home in such a hysterical state. "I'll talk with the men first. This is not a scene I want to see repeated." He rose to his feet and replaced the chair beside the dresser on his way to the door.

  Following him, Gabrielle reached out to touch his sleeve lightly. "We are all very young, naive in so many ways. Certainly no farmer we've ever known has kept a mistress, so it's understandable that Erica was deeply shocked."

  "Would such an admission change your choice of husband?" Jason inquired curiously.

  Gabrielle whispered so Erica would not overhear. "Why can't you remember that I'm not going to marry any of the bachelors? Their habits are, therefore, none of my concern."

  Jason did not reply, but the dark glance he gave her spoke volumes, all things she had no wish to hear. As he turned away

  she closed the door and leaned hack against it, attempting unsuccessfully to shut out the sharp pain his indifference continued to cause her. She forced herself to think of Erica instead, for she could well imagine how devastated she was to learn that Lewis had conveniently sent away his Indian wife and child to make room for her. Such an act was despicable to Gabrielle. She didn't care if the other men excused it by saying half-Indian children would be better off with their mother's tribe. It was clear the Indian women had simply been used and then tossed aside at the men's first opportunity to marry white women. How could any woman accept a man with such a shocking lack of morals as a husband. Jason might see such an arrangement as unacceptable because he considered children too precious to be sent away, but how had he treated her? It was clear her happiness mattered so little to him that he wanted to see her married to someone else, and as soon as possible. When she became another man's bride, his conscience would be clear, for she'd be another man's responsibility, not his. She had failed in her purpose, she realized, for even when she'd tried to focus upon Erica's problem she had again returned to contemplation of her own.

  She paced restlessly up and down beside the bed she and her friend shared, unable to provide Erica with any consoling thoughts when her own problems were so severe. Fortunately, exhausted by tears. Erica had fallen asleep so Gabrielle's lack of sympathy went unnoticed. When she moved to the window she was surprised to see it was nearly sundown. Where had the afternoon gone? She'd been talking with Michael, and then . . . '*0h no, Michael!" she exclaimed with deep remorse. What must the man think of her for leaving him so rudely and never returning to the parlor? She could not recall the plans for the evening, more dancing perhaps, or musical entertainment of another type. It didn't really matter. She'd stay with Erica regardless of what amusement Clayton presented. Perhaps, without her presence to distract him, Michael would

  find another young woman who would respond to his warmth and kindness as she'd been unable to do. She sincerely hoped he would since he didn't deserve to be hurt because she'd been too cowardly to refuse his attentions.

  Soon her other roommates tiptoed into the bedroom, wide-eyed and curious. They wanted to dress for the evening, but Gabrielle put a finger to her lips, warning them not to awaken Erica. There would be time enough for the truth later. More than enough time, she was certain, but Marlene could not wait to ask a question and she came close.

  *'Is it true Erica won't marry Lewis because he kept an Indian woman?" she whispered shyly.

  "It is true he kept an Indian woman, but I'll not speak for Erica. She'll have to tell you what her plans are herself when she's able."

  Marlene looked down at the sleeping woman, her expression a forlorn one. ''He told her the truth about himself and lost her. That's what happened, isn't it?"

  ''I make no claim to be able to predict the future, Marlene. I can't say what will happen between Erica and Lewis now." She turned away, thinking their brief conversation over, but Marlene moved to block her path.

  "Wait! I have been debating with myself whether or not to reveal my true age to Charles. Since I think he likes me as much as I like him, I feel he deserves such honesty, but I dare not speak the truth if I'll lose him for it!"

  "None of the men has even thought to ask my age, Marlene. Why do you think Charles will care how old you are? It is so trivial a concern I wish you would cease to worry over it," Gabrielle remarked critically.

  "That is easy for you to say because you have no secrets!" Marlene responded impatiently, annoyed that Gabrielle had been so unsympathetic to her plight when she'd always been the most understanding of friends.

  "Secrets," Gabrielle thought, why that's all I have! Sud-

  denly she had to get out of the crowded bedroom. Iris was in a belHgerent mood, ordering Margaret out of the way so she could smooth out the full skirt of her gown, but Gabrielle brushed past them both on the way to the door, caring little that she shoved the young women in her haste. As she rushed down the stairs, determined to leave the accursed house where she was surrounded by so many insoluble problems, she heard male voices in the parlor and knew she'd not be able to sneak out the front door without being observed. She could go back upstairs and use the stairway at the other end of the hall. Then she could exit through the kitchen. But she would be seen by the help and her absence would be swiftly reported. Infuriated that she seemed to meet a dead end at every turn, she stood still, and when her temper began to cool, she realized it was Jason who was speaking. She moved stealthily to the doorway of the parlor so she could overhear what was being said.

  "I've asked Lewis to go home and stay there for a few days, but I hope the rest of you will have learned something from this regrettable incident. The young ladies we've brought here to be your brides are just that, ladies, and they deserve to marry gentlemen. You do not need to apologize for the way you've lived your lives before you met them. That is your own business. I strongly suggest that one of the finest qualities any man can have is the ability to keep his own counsel. The young ladies are certain to gossip amongst themselves about this and I can't control that, but I will say it is most unfortunate that Erica was so badly hurt. It was a great shock for her to learn that the man she admired had not only kept an Indian mistress but had fathered a child he'd abandoned as well. You all know the scandal such actions would have caused in your hometowns, so you should be able to predict how the women who've come here to be your brides would perceive such behavior. They will clearly see it as most distressing and will probably consider it immoral as well. Now, is there still a doubt in any man's mind as to how he wants to represent himself to

  our young ladies?"

  There was some low mumbling, one man offering sympathy to another who had much to hide, but all thought Jason's advice was worth taking and no protests were offered. Finally, one man raised his hand and made a suggestion. ** think the sooner we marry the young ladies the better. Do either you or Mr. Home have any objection if we ask the preacher to start performing the wedding ceremonies as soon as we can get them to say yes?"

  Jason laughed, delighted that one man still had his sense of humor. "None at all, and Til be proud to be the best man for any of you." His response was met with applause and laughter. The solemn mood of the gathering broken, the men began to tease each other about their choice of brides.

  Having heard all she wished to, Cabrielle drew away. She was turning back toward the stairs as Jason walked out of the parlor. He saw her and called her name in a hoarse whisper.

  "Gabrielle! You are not to breathe a word of what you just heard me say. Do you understand?" He had done his best to smooth over an incident which could have proven disastrous for a great many of the men, and he wasn't pleased to think she had overheard his remarks. "You must forget what I told you about how many of the men were involved with Indian women too. That was something I never should have admitted."

  Cabrielle stood on the bottom step, watching Jason's expression closely as he continued to lecture her sternly. His striking good looks were such a distraction that she could scarcely fo
cus her attention upon his words, but she understood his message plainly. When he finally paused to take a breath, she responded confidently. "To abandon an Indian woman and a child in favor of one of us is unforgivable in my view, Jason, but I think you are right in advising the men to keep such a secret to themselves. It would be far better for a man to carry such a sin to his grave than to inflict that burden upon his wife when she is entirely innocent of the deed. I will not spread the tale. You need have no worries that I will cause

  any of your bachelors, or should I say the men who have pretended to be bachelors, any more problems than they have created for themselves."

  Jason was caught off guard by her ready cooperation and realized he'd been far too abrupt. "I'm sorry, none of this is your fault. Forgive me for being so rude."

  "Why not?" Cabrielle replied flippantly. "I've forgiven you for everything else." She ran up the stairs then, and even without looking back she knew his eyes had changed from soft smoky gray to a black as deep as his shiny curls. He'd been that angered by her insult. But, by God, he had deserved it!

  'i^/u./Ue^ m/J

  Sunday morning. Erica astonished her roommates by dressing for church and announcing her intention to attend the services with the rest of the brides. "I made the mistake of giving in to my emotions last night, but this morning I reaUze I was a fool to allow my disappointment in Lewis to cause me such unnecessary grief. He is not the only bachelor in Oregon City. I plan to use my time well today and find another man who will please me as I now know Lewis never will." She brushed her honey-colored curls with long easy strokes, clearly in complete control of herself that morning regardless of the unfortunate spectacle she'd created the previous afternoon.

  Gabrielle thought her friend a bit too reserved and said so. ''I don't think you should make any decisions without careful consideration. Erica. Lewis made no secret of his past, and apparently his situation is not unique. Since none of us can change the past, it is the future we'll live together which should be our primary concern."

  Erica sat her brush aside but continued to appraise her reflection critically in the mirror above the dresser. The skin around her eyes was a bit puffy; still, for having cried herself to sleep she thought she looked remarkably good that morning. "No son oijnine is going to have an Indian half brother, that's

  all there is to it. If none of the bachelors Clayton Home has provided for us can swear his only children will be the ones he'll give me then I simply will not marry until I do meet such a man."

  Gabrielle sat, silently remembering how fine a man Scream of Lightning had appeared to be. She'd certainly not be ashamed if he were her own half brother, or thus related to the sons she might one day have. "I know Indians frighten you far more than they do me, so I can understand why Lewis' past has affected you so greatly. If you can neither forgive him for it nor simply accept it as the way men have lived here, then you should refuse to see him again for you'll be happier with other mates."

  "What if Michael Jenkins were to tell you he'd not only had an Indian woman keep his house and warm his bed, but that he'd fathered a half-breed brat as well? Are you saying you'd still consider him a fine prospect for a husband? Could you forgive such a disgrace, or merely overlook it?" She wheeled around to face Gabrielle, her anger bringing a bright blush to her cheeks and making her green eyes glow with a fierce light.

  Gabrielle rose from the bed and walked to the dresser to use the mirror to put on her bonnet. She tied the ribbons securely beneath her chin in an attractive bow. She'd stopped curling her hair now that she'd decided not to continue the pretense that she was one of the brides. The flowing red tresses fell to her waist, their dark auburn hue glossy in the morning sunlight which filled the room. While she appeared to be engrossed in her own appearance, she was in fact concentrating on formulating some sensible reply. 'That is merely borrowing trouble. Erica. He may not have such a story to tell, or if he does, he may choose to keep it to himself. That's not a question I'll answer."

  Frustrated by that noncommittal reply. Erica turned a curious glance upon the other occupants of the room. "Well, what about the rest of you? Do you think I'm being

  unreasonable in not wanting to share my husband with a squaw r

  Iris smiled knowingly. ''These are mature men, Erica, not the innocent teenage boys you may have known, and I have no interest in hearing of their exploits with other women. I will expect my husband to be faithful to me after we are married, but ril make no judgments on the way he's lived before we met. I shall merely expect him to be discreet about his past, as a gentleman should be. Til ask no more than that of him.''

  Barbara shrugged. "I can't imagine any of the men in whom I'm interested even wanting an Indian maiden, so I've no idea what I'd say if one made such a confession to me."

  Margaret shook her head, having no opinion in the matter, while Marlene blushed deeply, too shocked by the possibility that Charles might have had an Indian mistress to make any comment. Johanna picked up her Bible as she went to the door. "I for one would do exactly what you have done. Erica. I'd not consider a man worthy of being my husband if he had not married the mother of his child, be she Indian or white. Now we really must hurry or we shall be late for church, and I'm certain the entire community will turn out to meet us."

  Happy to leave a discussion in which she wished to take no further part, Gabrielle followed Johanna down the stairs while the other young women completed their preparations. Saturday night she had had plenty of time to think while Erica had slept and everyone else had been at the party downstairs. As soon as they returned from church she was going to tell Clayton Home she was leaving, regardless of what his decision might be on the matter. There was at least one hotel in the town, she knew that for a fact. She'd take a room there and look for work the first thing Monday morning. She had been independent enough to choose to come to Oregon, so she was certain she could find a way to be self-supporting in order to stay.

  When Gabrielle stepped out onto the front porch, Michael

  Jenkins rushed up the steps to meet her. Like most of the men, he had brought his buggy to Clayton's home that morning. He wanted to escort Cabrielle to church and home again since it would be an opportunity for at least a few minutes of private conversation.

  "I have my buggy, may I offer you a ride to church this morning. Miss MacLaren?" He gripped his hat nervously, hoping she would not refuse his politely worded request.

  Cabrielle was so ashamed of the way she'd left Michael in the parlor on Saturday afternoon, never to return, that she dared not hurt his feelings again. "Why thank you, I didn't realize the church was too distant to walk."

  "It is on the opposite side of town." Pleased by her ready acceptance, Michael took her arm to direct her to his vehicle, which he'd spent considerable time washing and polishing that morning. He helped her up onto the seat and then pretended to check his horse's harness for some flaw until everyone else had left for the church. He then climbed up into the seat and said with a hopeful smile, "We will have such a brief time to converse on the way to church and back, I was hoping you'd come home with me instead. There will be such a crowd at the service this morning I doubt our absence will be noted."

  Michael was such a dear man, the light in his brown eyes so warm and caring, that Cabrielle knew she must tell him of her decision to leave before she told Clayton. "Yes, I would like very much to have some time to talk privately with you. Do we need to go all the way to your farm though? Isn't there some picturesque spot nearby? The scenery is so pretty here. Almost any place will do."

  "I want to take you home," Michael answered promptly, his plans apparently already made. "The trip is not a long one and the road is quite good at this time of year."

  "All right then," Cabrielle agreed. Knowing how greatly what she had to reveal would disappoint him, she thought he should at least have the comfort of hearing it in his own home. The beauty of the Willamette Valley was spectacular in the

  autumn, the day warm yet w
ith a touch of crispness which promised winter was not far behind. The road was Hned with tall firs, and Michael explained that fallen branches often blocked the way after a heavy rain storm. He kept up a steady stream of conversation, and away from the rather stilted atmosphere of the parties at Clayton's home, his personality was surprisingly charming.

  "I always keep an ax with me, as Tve had to chop up branches which were too heavy to move out of this road on more than one occasion. The firs were here first though, so I can't blame them for dropping their branches so carelessly," he confided with a teasing grin.

  "You must have had to work very hard to clear your land if it is covered with trees as tall as these," Gabrielle remarked, her respect for the pleasant young man growing.

  "Very hard doesn't begin to describe what is more torture than work, but I keep at it every chance I get. My land is nearly all cleared now, but I kept a few trees near the house. They provide much-needed shade in summer and block the winds in winter. I figured I needed them more than another quarter acre of wheat or oats."

  "Yes, that sounds like a very sensible idea," Gabrielle agreed, and when at last they arrived at his home she thought the naturalness of the setting very appealing. While built of logs rather than the finished planks Iris insisted upon having, his house was well crafted, and Gabrielle thought it more than adequate for the needs of most young families; She strolled around the yard while he took care of his horse, then they went inside and she accepted his offer of tea. She sat down in the rocking chair near the fireplace and watched him prepare it, hoping as he brought sugar and cream that she would be able to think of some tactful way to tell him what she knew had to be said. He seemed to be so pleased to have her as his guest, and she was dreadfully sorry she would not be the bride she knew he wanted so badly.