by Carré White
“Oh, Ryan…this…shouldn’t happen…”
He’d undone my hair completely; the tresses were trapped in his fingers. Eager lips continued their ruthless assault, working their way to my earlobe, which he nipped gently. This produced a fireball of awareness that careened into my belly, where it multiplied.
“I don’t think coyotes do this,” I said somewhat breathlessly.
“They trap their pray,” he murmured huskily. “Then they devour it.” He gazed at me, while he raised himself onto his arms. “If you were really a rabbit, you’d be eaten by now.”
“You’re being cheeky, and you know it. This was your idea to take advantage of me.”
He grinned, confirming my assumptions. “You didn’t even try to put up a fight.”
“Was I supposed to?” I wore a corset today, as I had dressed for town, and moving in the contraption was difficult. I pushed against his chest, finding a firm mass of muscle. “You seem awfully determined, sir. But, I do question your motives.”
“They shouldn't be that hard to figure out.”
“You’re impertinent.”
“And you like it.”
He was right, but for propriety’s sake, I had to end this dangerous game. Squirming, I meant to dislodge him, but I had not succeeded in the least. His grin broadened. “Ouf! Stop that now!” I doubted this would deter him, but he fell to his side, lying next to me. I glanced at him. “Thank you.”
“You won’t leave now, will you?”
“I should.”
“Stay with me for a while.”
“I’d best go back to the house. They’ll all be wondering where I am.”
“I should nibble on your neck again. You’re trying not to smile, but you want to, don’t you?”
“You made a poor coyote. Not believable at all.”
“I didn’t try hard enough.” An eyebrow lifted. “I could attack you again, only this time, my aim is to capture your mouth.”
By staying I was only encouraging him, but I realized this too late, although I sat up, intending to leave. He grabbed me, enfolding me in his arms, where to my shock and delight, his lips met mine. I’d never been kissed before, besides on the hand. This was surprisingly rough and aggressive, while a tongue begged entrance. Whatever fight I had died instantly, my curiosity and desire having gained the upper hand. I let him have his way; my mouth opening for him, while my fingers threaded through silky hair. We collapsed to the bedding, lost in the moment, as the buzz of our attraction flared.
I drowned in the sensations—the smell of his hair, his clothing, the hint of soap and musk. He molded himself to me; his thigh was lodged between mine, while he chafed me with the shorn edges of his beard. The thought to push him away registered a dozen times, but I could not muster an ounce of resistance. At last, after he’d had his fill and my lips were swollen from the abuse, he held me even closer, his mouth near my forehead.
“I should go.”
“No. This has been the best day of my life.”
I reached out, moving hair from his eye. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth.”
“We…we were just playing a silly game. That’s all.”
“You know that’s a lie.” Liquid warm, dark eyes lingered on me. “I’ve thought about kissing you since the first time we met.”
My finger went to his mouth, silencing him. “Shush.” He nipped at it, biting gently. Grasping my hand, he held it to his face, inhaling my scent. Then he kissed my palm, while closing his eyes. The moment was poignant and languidly intimate.
“Jane!”
This utterance tore me out of the fog I had fallen into, returning me to the cold reality of what I had just done. “Hannah?” I sat up, finding her peering into the tipi.
“What are you doing?” Her expression was one of alarm.
“Um…” My spirits sank, knowing that I would now have to explain myself, but the truth would not do at all. “I…we were…oh, nothing.”
“You must come out at once. It’s nearly time for you to leave. Your brothers and sisters would not be happy to be kept waiting at school.”
“No, they wouldn’t.” I glanced at Ryan, feeling torn and miserable, mortified that I had let him take advantage of me, yet I was not entirely blameless.
“Thank you for lunch, Mrs. Weaver,” Ryan said, grinning crookedly.
“You’ve not behaved yourself very well, Mr. Hartsock,” she admonished. “I see you both need to be chaperoned from here on out.” She wasn’t truly angry, but a look of concern remained. “Come along, Jane. You’ve dallied long enough.”
My hair was down my back, and I searched for the pins. “I’ll be there once I find my hairpins.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
She closed the flap of the tipi, but in that instant, Ryan grasped my face, kissing me urgently. I clung to him, my fingers curling around the collar of his shirt. This might be our last kiss. I would come to my senses once I left him, and then…this moment would be stored away in my memory for all time.
“I’m waiting, Jane.”
Drawing away, I whispered, “When you find my pins, will you return them?”
“No. You have to come back to get them.”
“You,” I poked a finger in his chest, “are a blackguard.”
“You wouldn’t have me any other way.”
I’d encouraged him; I could see that now. I’d erred greatly, and I was to blame. Scrambling to my feet, I hurried for the exit, refusing to look back. When I emerged, the brightness of the sun forced me to blink repeatedly.
“Let’s go, Jane.” Her expression was stern. “Your hair is a mess. I’ve some clips you may use. Where’s your bonnet?”
“Oh, drats!” I ducked back into the tipi, where Ryan sat, staring at me. “Please hand me the hat, sir.”
He shook his head. “No.”
Exasperated, I hastened to where I had left it. He grabbed my wrist, and I was suddenly in his arms again. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” He kissed me, plundering my mouth. It had a dreamy, drugging effect, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, while he pulled me even closer.
“I’m waiting.”
With Herculean effort, I pushed him away. “Stop!” My cheeks stung with mortification. “Ouf!” I grasped the hat, hurrying from the tipi, where I found Hannah waiting.
“You’ll be late now.” Her hands were on her hips. “Your lips are puffy.”
I gathered my hair, shoving the lengthy tresses into the bonnet, while tying the sash under my chin. “I…am so sorry. I’m not sure what happened.”
“You can’t be left alone with him. I’ll have to tell Nathan about this.”
“No, please don’t. It won’t happen again, I swear. I’ve had a momentary lapse in judgment. I…will do better next time.”
“There won’t be a next time. It’s one thing to court someone properly, but quite another to…well, you know.”
“I didn’t plan on this. I had no idea something like this would happen.”
“You’ve secretly wished it, Jane. I’ve seen the way you look at him. What about Wesley? I thought you were spoken for. I thought you adored him?”
“I…I do.”
“Have you had a change of heart?”
“I…don’t know.” We neared the house, where Sally Anne waited, as someone had kindly attached her to the wagon. “I’m a bit…confused now.”
“If you wish to see Mr. Hartsock, you must tell Wesley goodbye. It’s unseemly to string two men along. You’re not engaged yet. You do have several options available to you, but this sort of sneaky behavior is beneath any woman. Surely you see that.”
“I’m sorry.”
She smiled kindly. “I shouldn’t judge you. I’ve my own secrets from long ago. I…once felt things for someone when my husband was still alive. I’m not proud of that, but one can hardly help the way they feel. But Wesley believes he’s your intended. He’s working hard in the mountains, wanting to find gold for your futur
e together.”
I spied Ryan out of the corner of my eye, standing near the fence. He wore a hat, which hid his face. “I know.”
“You have to think about what you’ll do, Jane. Do you still wish to be Wesley’s wife or have you had a change of heart?”
“He’s not asked me to marry him.”
“You know he means to. He wants to prove himself to you, to provide for you. His plans include you.”
Now I felt horribly guilty. “Yes.” I lowered my head.
“These are things you need to consider.”
“W-what if I chose someone else?”
“Someone like Mr. Hartsock?”
“I…I’m not sure.”
“You’ve known Wesley for years. He’s courted you properly. He’s made his intentions clear. I have no objections to Mr. Hartsock, but he’s not been with us for long. I know nothing about his character or his past. From what I’ve seen today,” she looked stern, “I’d have to question his integrity. He knows you’re seeing someone. It’s been said often enough in his presence, and yet…he would make such advances. Advances you accepted quite readily, from the looks of it.”
There would be no resolution to this conflict at the moment. “I should go. I have to think about things.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Darlin’!” called Nathan. He appeared on the porch with Charlie in his arms. The boy was fussing. “I don’t know what to do with this little tyke. He’s awfully upset.”
“I’ll take him.” She turned to me. “Go get your siblings. Don’t worry about work tomorrow. I’ll handle it.”
“But…” Disappointment registered. “You need help.”
“Maria will be back on Saturday or maybe even Friday. I’m fine. Fanny needs you more than I do.” She hugged me quickly. “You’ve been wonderful, Jane. Think on what I’ve said. You’ve years of history with Wesley. I don’t think you’d want to throw that all away on someone you hardly know.”
“I…will go now.”
I turned from her, feeling weariness settling upon my shoulders. I would not return tomorrow to help, and I would not see Ryan, which was for the best. He had taken advantage of me, but I had done nothing to stop him. I was just as much to blame for what had happened, but I couldn’t help feeling saddened now. As I climbed onto the wagon, reaching for the reins, I glanced over my shoulder, spying the object of my consternation standing against the fence, as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
Well, Jane. I hope you come to your senses by the time you return home…
Sally Anne needed little prodding to move forward, her grey colored tail swishing back and forth. Hannah had joined Nathan on the porch with Charlie in her arms, while I fought the urge to look over my shoulder. The feeling that I was leaving something behind needled me all the way to Denver City, and, even after my siblings were in the wagon, chatting amiably, I continued to feel as if I had lost something.
That evening, while preparing for bed, I found myself alone for the moment, because Mary and Susanna had gone to the privy together, sharing a lamp. I could hear them giggling in the backyard. The mirror sat upon the dresser next to the lamp. I stared at my reflection, seeing a young woman with almond shaped eyes. My expression was somewhat solemn, as I had felt dull for the last half of the day. Opening a drawer, I retrieved all the letters Wesley had ever written, and I proceeded to sit in the corner and read them again, while Mary and Susanna readied for bed.
In them, I rediscovered the sort of man Wesley was. His family came from Virginia, and they remained there, while he had traveled west to seek his fortune. His goal had been to earn a living mining, and he longed to find a wife and have a family. I had known him since arriving in the Denver City, and he had been by my side after I had stupidly run away. I’d spent several days in the prairie, wandering towards the mountains. I was a precocious fifteen-year-old, and I had caused Fanny and Jack a great deal of trouble through my thoughtless actions. I was lucky I survived the ordeal, especially because I could have been taken by any variety of Indian or I could have starved, being without food. It had been a foolish thing to do.
My history spoke for itself, unfortunately. I’d made some mistakes, along with bad choices. “Then I can’t trust myself,” I whispered.
“What?” Mary turned over in bed, staring at me. “Did you say something?”
“No. Go back to sleep.”
“It’s late. What are you still doing up?”
“I’m reading.”
She yawned. “You should come to bed.”
Placing the letters in the drawer, I turned the lamp down, sliding beneath the covers. Tomorrow I would not return to the Weaver farm, although I longed to. I was determined to put the episode behind me, chalking it up to a momentary lapse in judgment and nothing more. No one besides Hannah would know of my personal error. It would be…as if it never happened.
Chapter Eight
Resigning oneself to a new way of thinking was not as easy as I had hoped. I continued to bring my siblings to town, dropping them off at school and performing my chores for Fanny. We cooked, cleaned, minded children, and sewed in our free moments. I’d done my best to forget about the “tipi incident”, but the memories refused to leave.
I’d not had a letter from Wesley now in more than a month, and, as June drew to a close, and I had yet to see a single piece of correspondence, I began to worry. To complicate matters, renegade Indians attacked supply trains, hindering products and food items from arriving in Denver City. The mail had fallen victim as well, although Wesley’s correspondence came from the mountains.
After church one Sunday, we gathered near our wagons, Fanny, Hannah, Louisa, and Paulina’s children ran around the churchyard, while the older ones talked under a tree. We typically drove to Paulina’s house for brunch, but we would not do so today. The elder Hoffman’s spoke with Pastor Bailey, who stood on the steps of the church.
“Have you seen them yet?” Paulina asked.
Hannah looked confused. “Seen what?”
“The grasshoppers. It was like a dark, noisy cloud. They landed yesterday morning.”
“Mrs. Winter said something about it when I saw her on Tuesday,” said Louisa. “They live south of here. She said they’ve settled on her crops. They’re trying everything they can to get rid of them. Matthias fears they’ll come here as well and it sounds like they have.”
“Oh, heavens above,” muttered Hannah, her eyes shielded beneath the brim of a yellow bonnet. “I’ll have to pull everything out of the garden as soon as I get home.”
“Is there anything we can do?” asked Fanny. “The corn is only just beginning to show. It would be unfortunate if the entire crop is ruined.”
“Nathan must know something,” said Hannah. “I’m sure we’ll think of a way to keep them at bay.”
“We weren’t able to do a thing,” said Paulina. “Once they’re through eating our field, they’ll move to yours and so on and so forth, unless more fly in from somewhere else.”
Samuel approached. “We should go. I’ll get the children.”
“Did you tell Nathan and Matthias about the grasshoppers?”
“I did.” He looked grim. “This is the last thing we need. First the supply trains and now this.”
Hannah glanced over her shoulder. “Nathan! We should go.” Her gloved hands held a drawstring purse. “We need to go home quickly.”
“Can’t they be beaten off with flails?” I asked.
“That would require dozens of men,” said Louisa.
“What if we all pulled together and worked one field at a time? Even women and children?”
“That’s an idea,” said Paulina. “My field is gone, but Hannah still has hers. But, maybe they won’t find it. They seem to swarm haphazardly.”
“I’ll speak with my husband. I wonder how much time we have before they come?”
“I don’t know.” Paulina hugged Hannah. “Oh, how I shall pray this pestilence goes away. Maybe you’ll be
spared.”
“We’ll know soon enough,” said Hannah. “We’ve things preserved and plenty of stored wheat and corn. If we lose the crop this year, it’ll hurt, but we won’t starve.”
“Other families aren’t as prepared, Hannah,” said Louisa. “We don’t farm, so we’ll have to buy our things at higher prices.”
“They’ve already risen because of the attacks on the supply trains,” said Paulina. “It surely can’t get any worse.”
“Let us know, if you need help,” said Louisa. “I had best be going. I’ll try to save what I can from the kitchen garden.”
People had begun to settle in their wagons, the children sitting in the back. I would be with Fanny and Jack on the bench. I waited for them, as Jack finished speaking with several parishioners. The conversation home was one of worry, especially over the wheat and corn that might be in danger. The Bailey farm wasn’t nearly as large as Hannah’s, but the loss of revenue would be felt. Once home, Fanny and I hurried to the garden, harvesting whatever vegetables we could find, ripe or not. Mary and Susanna helped, and, by the time we were finished, we had several baskets full of edibles, most of which would be canned and preserved before they spoiled.
That night, a knock on the door sounded while we were in the parlor reading aloud to the children, which was how we typically ended most evenings. Jack, knowing that something was wrong, hurried to the door, opening it.
A disheveled looking Nathan appeared. “They came today.”
“I’m sorry, Nathan. What can we do to help?”
“I’ve made the rounds tonight. Mathias and Samuel and their families will be at our place in the morning. We’re gonna try a coupla things, starting with beating the critters with flails. We might dig some ditches and fill ‘em with coal tar and set it on fire. The smoke should drive ‘em away. We’re gonna try our best to save our crop.”