Night Flower (Gone-to-Texas Trilogy)
Page 37
He kissed her nose, eyelids, brows, and cheeks softly while he struggled with how to express the wonder of what they had just shared. “It's never been like that before for me, either, Night Flower. I love you, Mellie, with everything in me; and I want to love you, not because we're married or had to get married, but because you're you.
“Did I ever tell you the story of how I named this ranch?” he asked as she propped one elbow up on his chest and looked down at his beloved face.
“You said you found those evening primroses growing by the edge of the stream the night before I came out to interview you. It was an omen of some sort, to begin over again and rebuild on this site.”
He reached one hand up and caressed her softly flushed cheek. “That's what I tried to tell myself. But I was only fooling myself, Mellie. Even that long ago, those flowers reminded me of you—with your eyes and sun-kissed golden skin—a Texas girl on the brink of womanhood in a mustard-yellow silk shirt.”
“Like the one I wore today?” she asked softly.
“Yeah. Like the one you wore today,” he replied with a chuckle.
“Some things are just fated to be, I guess,” she said, kissing him again. “Maybe that's why I wore those flowers in my hair for Senator Houston's dance. I loved it when you called me your Night Flower, and I really wanted to seduce you even then—only I didn't know how.”
He laughed ruefully. “You knew how to make me crazy jealous, that's for sure. And every move you made, everything about you made me desire you. Just like now,” he said and began to kiss her again.
“Lee....”
“Mmm?” He rolled them on their sides and continued working magic with his hands and lips.
“What you were doing to me earlier...do you think we could try it again sometime?”
He smothered a laugh as he lowered his mouth, nibbling toward her navel and then lower. “We can try it right now,” he whispered. “In fact, there are several variations I haven't shown you yet; and every good reporter deserves to have all her questions answered,” he teased.
“Aah! Even if she...can't...print the story,” she gasped in ecstasy when his lips found her.
He teased and suckled her for a moment, then gently shifted his position until he had reversed it so that his long body was lying opposite hers. Quickly, she realized his intention and reached for his once more hardened phallus with one soft little hand. His sudden gasp of pleasure told her to continue. When he resumed his nuzzling caresses of her, she slowly moved her mouth to envelop him. It seemed so natural to love him this way, and if it felt as good to him as his caresses did to her... At her first stroke, his reaction convinced her it did.
Once more they made languorously slow, gentle love, lying side by side, each giving and receiving intense, prolonged pleasure. When he felt her stiffen and the tiny rippling contractions begin, he joined her in sweet release, more sudden and sharp this way, yet exquisite for all that.
Planting a kiss on her curly mound, he raised his head and swung about to take her in his arms. “See, I told you there were variations. That's one....”
“You mean there are more?”
The awe in her voice brought more laughter. “Still the inquiring newspaper reporter? Oh, wife, I love you.”
“And I love you, husband.” The simple declaration seemed so natural now, and she knew she would repeat it often in the years to come.
He pulled a sheet over them and instructed her to rest. Exhausted from her exertions, she did and fell into a sound, sated sleep. When she awakened, Lee was standing in the door, clad in a robe with a heavy dinner tray in his hands.
“Going to sleep all night? Kai has outdone himself with a special restorative dinner for my worn-out wife.”
She snorted scornfully and got up to fetch her robe from a nearby chair while he set the feast on the bedside table. It consisted mostly of simple foods, cheeses and fresh fruits, small hand pies filled with meat, and a bottle of cool white wine. They sat on the big rumpled bed and fed each other, laughing and talking as they ate.
Suddenly, she stopped and looked into his eyes, saying softly, “Who ever would have dreamed we'd be sitting here talking like this after the way we started out?”
He smiled. “Oh, Charlee, Obedience, Lame Deer, and Father Gus—he's a man of infinite faith, you know.”
“He said he hoped we'd have a baby for him to baptize by next year. Do you think—” She got no farther before he kissed her. “If we don't, it won't be for lack of effort, Night Flower. We'll fill this house with the laughter of children. My father's dream will come true.” Then he stopped and stroked her jaw gently. “That is, if you want lots of babies...or, if you want to keep busy at the Star, we could only have one or two.” He looked into her eyes, earnestly asking her opinion, insisting on no male prerogative.
“My arrogant Tejano, willing to settle for a wife with a job and only one heir? Oh, Lee, if nothing else had convinced me of your love, this alone would! But I want your children—lots of them. Clarence and the Star will just have to settle for what spare time I have left over.”
He grinned. “Considering what Charlee's managed to get into while raising her brood, I bet that'll still be plenty. Now, as to the matter of making babies...”
Epilogue
August 1853
San Fernando's high vaulted roof echoed with the surprised shrieks of the newborn infant as the cool baptismal water touched the dark curls on her head. Having often heard the same serenade, Father Gus remained unperturbed as he continued the sacramental ritual. Glancing around the crowd gathered at the baptismal font, he found it difficult to believe the difference in their demeanor since the last time they had all assembled for the marriage of Lee and Melanie Velasquez.
Rafe Fleming's forbidding countenance now beamed with the joy of being a grandfather, and his beautiful wife positively glowed with grandmotherly pride. Obedience, his Abbess, and her husband, Wash, were grinning like possums while the godparents, Jim and Charlee Slade, could scarcely keep their eyes off the wiggly bundle Charlee held so lovingly as the infant was sanctified. The Fleming and Slade children were exuberant as usual.
Most of all, the priest felt his prayers answered because of the young parents standing before him. They had such obvious love for each other and for their offspring shining from their eyes. “I baptize thee Marie Deborah Charlene Velasquez....” The squalls almost drowned out the ancient intonation.
Lee bent down and whispered to his wife, “I told you she'd be the one. Jimmy will be stoic like a Tejano. She's the contrary one—just like her mother.” He grinned and looked from the red squalling face of his daughter to the beatific calm of his son, James Alexander Thomas Velasquez, her fraternal twin, held securely in his mother's arms.
Melanie smiled serenely and whispered back, “Just wait.” When it was Jimmy's turn, Charlee and Melanie exchanged babies and the ritual was repeated. Again the startled squall, this time emanating from the twin. Marie fell blissfully asleep in her mother's arms while Jimmy squirmed and cried. Melanie looked up at her tall husband with a self-satisfied smirk.
When the baptisms were completed, Father Gus dismissed his little flock with a joyous blessing. By the time they had all emerged into the warm August air outside the cathedral, both twins were dozing contentedly, Marie in her father's arms, Jimmy in his mother's.
“You and Charlee planned this,” Lee accused, and his wife stifled a giggle.
“How could we? Neither of them like getting their heads wet, that's all,” Melanie explained patiently.
“Surely, you can't fault my experience holding babies, Lee,” Charlee asked with a laugh, patting her protuberant belly. The proud godparents were expecting their fourth child within two months.
Everyone laughed, even the usually pompous and solemn Clarence Pemberton. He and Amos were present for the family celebration, as were all the children from Father Gus's school. Lame Deer, an honorary godfather, hovered between the two babies, in awe of such tiny bits o
f humanity and half afraid of them, although he would never admit as much.
Above the babble of children's laughter and adult conversation, a special guest of honor offered his opinion of the occasion. His orator's voice rang out sonorously across the plaza as he addressed Lee. “May I offer my sincere felicitations and commend you, Lee, on beginning with the odds even. Alas, I fear I have become sadly outnumbered since Mrs. Houston has presented me with four sisters for young Sam. You have a fighting chance with a boy and a girl at the onset.”
“Well, Senator, when you wait until you're twenty-three to have your first baby, you might as well not do it by halves. That's why we decided on twins,” Melanie replied with a twinkle.
“Considering what your Grandfather Manchester endured during your crusading years, dear heart, he's the one who's overjoyed most of all,” Deborah said fondly.
Rafe placed his arm around his eldest daughter and a smile lit his harshly chiseled face. “He's waiting in Boston, broken leg and all, for you to bring his first great-grandson and -daughter for a visit, princess.”
“We've already booked passage, Papa.” Melanie assured her father.
“Yes, the Star waited for its best reporter during two months' maternity hiatus, and now she takes off for an extended visit to Massachusetts,” Clarence interjected testily. “Adam Manchester is no older than I. Tell him to come to Texas as I did.”
“Jeehosaphat! Yew old goat, Mr. Manchester's got hisself a broke lag—‘n if ‘n yew don't quit yore bellyachin' he won't be th' onliest one afflicted that way,” Obedience warned the editor, who edged away from her warily while everyone else, including Amos, laughed.
Viewing the assembly of beloved friends and family, Lee felt his heart overflowing. “Looking forward to the trip, Night Flower?” he asked his wife.
“Oh, yes. Grandfather will be so thrilled to meet you and Jimmy and Marie! I'll even introduce you to William Lloyd Garrison and Lucretia Mott.”
Lee rolled his eyes and exchanged a look of mock martyrdom with Jim Slade and Wash Oakley.
“I have every faith in this young woman,” Houston boomed out. “Having frequently made the arduous trek to citadels of eastern power, I have learned that nothing is so sweet as to set foot once again on Texas soil.”
“I heartily agree, Senator,” Melanie said simply, reaching out to squeeze Lee's hand.
Lee looked down at their children and then at the small beautiful face of his wife, “My parents came to Texas with a dream.” Then raising his eyes to the assembled multitude filled with so many beloved faces—Hispanic, German, and Anglo, black and red—he said, “Through all of us, their dream will live on.”
Author’s Note
In terms of research, Night Flower proved to be the most troublesome, yet fascinating, of the Gone-to-Texas Trilogy. Originally, I conceived of a story in which the good guys were ranchers and rangers, and the bad guys were stereotypical Indian agents of B-western lore; but my research into Texas history destroyed these preconceived notions. Far from being the villains so often portrayed, Texas Indian agents, such as Robert S. Neighbors, who was am actual historical figure, were mostly unsung heroes who faced corrupt whiskey dealers and land-hungry settlers. Men like Neighbors struggled and often sacrificed their own lives to save Native Americans from extinction.
I also found that a number of Texas rangers like Seth Walkman were far from being the fearless champions of law and order described by Walter Prescott Webb. Such villains as Walkman may well have outnumbered noble rangers like Jeremy Lawrence. As to the Comanche and other smaller tribes beleaguered in blood feuds with the Texians, they, as all other races, produced people as good as Lame Deer and as evil as Buffalo Gall. Somewhere between the noble red man of Robert Trennert and the contemptible savage of Walter Prescott Webb, the truth about Texian-Indian relations must lie. My research indicates that neither side was blameless.
For those wishing to investigate these topics further, I would suggest several sources cited previously in the trilogy: John Henry Brown’s History of Texas, Volume II; Walter Prescott Webb’s Texas Rangers; and Lesley Byrd Simpson’s Many Mexicos, all standard reference works. For a more detailed and documented chronicle of the unsuccessful attempts to establish federal Indian reservations in Texas—the only state to enter the Union as a sovereign nation—I highly recommend Alternative to Extinction by Robert A Trennert, Jr. and United States-Comanche Relations by William T. Hagen moves beyond the time frame of this story to the tragic conclusion of one of the longest and bloodiest race wars in history, as do The Comanche and Lone Star by T.R. Fehrenbach. Both Fehrenbach’s books are standard reference works mentioned earlier, superbly evenhanded and insightful in their treatment of this controversial issue.
As in Cactus Flower and Moon Flower, Sam Houston again makes cameo appearances in Night Flower, now as a United States senator and the proud father of one boy and four girls. The Houstons were later blessed with three more boys! Sam Houston’s Wife, A Biography of Margaret Lea Houston by William Seale is interesting and written from a point of view different from that of standard biographies of the great man already cited. I must beg pardon for taking a liberty with historical events, in that I placed Senator Houston in San Antonio in the fall of 1852, when in fact he was in Washington at that time. For the purposes of my plot, his presence as guest of honor for the gala ball was essential, and he did relish such political and social events. Additionally, I might add that although the Blaine-Walkman-Greer conspiracy was fictional, Houston’s unpopular concern for the plight of the Indians has been well-documented. His involvement with Lawrence would have been in keeping with his character.
A fascinating, well-documented, and bloodcurdling description of an adventurer’s life in the old Southwest, Savage Scene, the Life and Times of James Kirker, by William Cochran McGaw, provided me with ample and gristly details for Lee’s nightmares. The diary of Susan Shelby Magoffin, Down the Santa Fe Trail and into Mexico, gives excellent insights into how women fared on the frontier and describes politics, social customs, and daily life in superb detail.
As in the first two books of the Gone-to-Texas Trilogy, Night Flower is the weaving of a rich historical tapestry peopled by real-life and fictional characters. I hope their heroism and villainy, their humor and courage have entertained you and deepened your appreciation of the complex and wonderful land of Texas.
About the Author
SHIRL HENKE lives in St. Louis, where she enjoys gardening in her yard and greenhouse, cooking holiday dinners for her family and listening to jazz. In addition to helping brainstorm and research her books, her husband Jim is “lion tamer” for their two wild young tomcats, Pewter and Sooty, geniuses at pillage and destruction.
Shirl has been a RITA finalist twice, and has won three Career Achievement Awards, an Industry Award and three Reviewer’s Choice Awards from Romantic Times
“I wrote my first twenty-two novels in longhand with a ballpoint pen—it’s hard to get good quills these days,” she says. Dragged into the twenty-first century by her son Matt, a telecommunication specialist, Shirl now uses two of those “devil machines.” Another troglodyte bites the dust. Please visit her at www.shirlhenke.com.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Author's Note
About the Author<
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