by Linda Ladd
"Oh, for God's sake," Stone grumbled, massaging his brow, "you're both crazy. And I'll be damned if I take either of you with me when I go after Clan."
"One flea cannot a coverlet raise," Windsor told him, disregarding his obvious wrath.
Stone Kincaid looked at her for a moment; then, to her surprise, he grinned. "Yeah, maybe, but Clan is not a coverlet, and I'm not a flea."
"I can be of great help to you. And so can Sun-On-Wings."
"No. I don't want to see you get hurt."
"Let us fulfill our own parts and await the will of heaven."
"Hell, there's just no reasoning with you, is there? And you're already here, so I guess I don't have much choice. I'll take you along with me until we get to San Francisco. Then you're on your own. Is that clear?"
Not waiting for an answer, he lay down and turned his back to her. Windsor smiled. He would see reason soon enough, she thought, and together they would find Hung-pin's murderer, for that was the way it was meant to be.
9
By early the next morning the snowfall had diminished, but puffy layers of dark gray clouds still hung over the mountains, shrouding the jagged peaks and threatening another winter storm. Windsor gazed up at the sky, plagued by a nagging headache from her encounter with the grizzly. Her ankle was weak and sore, but she could walk without assistance. The clopping of hooves against rock brought her attention to Stone Kincaid, who was coming toward her, leading his horse by the reins.
"Let's go," he said curtly, not looking at her. "If it doesn't start snowing again, we just might make it to Silverville tonight."
"What is this Silverville?"
"It's a mining town where our railway company put down tracks a few years back. I still have some friends there who'll help us board a train to San Francisco."
Windsor looked around for Sun-On-Wings. "Will Sun-On-Wings be able to ride by himself?"
"Yeah. I caught your pony for him, but you'll have to ride with me. I had to shoot the horse the bear got." He finished tying his bedroll to his mare, then scowled at her. "I'm telling you that Sun-On-Wings better head back to his own people while he still can. He'll hate being among the whites, and they sure as hell won't accept him."
"Sun-On-Wings go with Yellow-Haired-Warrior-Woman," interjected the sixteen-year-old from a few yards behind them. "Me seek inner peace and be nun."
Stone loosed a string of oaths beneath his breath, then trained exasperated eyes upon Windsor. "Tell him he's wasting his time, Windsor, so he'll go home. You know as well as I do that he can't be a nun. He doesn't understand what the hell he's talking about."
Windsor hesitated, because Stone Kincaid's taut, angry words revealed his mood. "I cannot," she answered slowly, "for he can become a priest as Hung-pin was, if that is his desire. Such is an honorable quest."
"He's an Osage warrior, for God's sake, not some proverb-quoting Chinese holy man! The only reason he wants to come along is because he's in love with you. I'm surprised you haven't seen the truth about him when you do all that damned chanting and looking into yourself."
Shocked by Stone's scornful rebuke, Windsor remained silent as he led the mare a few feet away and swung onto the horse's back.
"Sun-On-Wings take Jun-li," the boy said to her, and Windsor nodded, watching the capuchin climb to the Indian's broad shoulder and hold on to his long black scalp lock. Troubled by Stone Kincaid's accusations, she contemplated his words while she draped the leather strap of Jun-li's bamboo cage across her chest.
"Come on, Windsor, we're wasting time," Stone Kincaid ordered, reaching down to her. Her heart trembled as his fingers closed around her hand in a strong grip. A moment later, she sat astride behind him, her arms locked around his waist.
"Here. You'll need this to keep warm."
As he urged his mount down the steep trail, she took the heavy buffalo hide he handed back to her and arranged it around her shoulders. The air was very cold, making her chest burn when she drew breath; the day was bleak and gloomy. Her own spirits felt dipped in lead, as they had ever since she realized Stone Kincaid had left her behind without saying good-bye. He didn't want her along now either; he had made his feelings abundantly clear.
Nevertheless, her heart told her that they were meant to hunt down the Evil One side by side. She was certain fate would allow neither of them to capture him alone—it was intended for them to work together. Why couldn't Stone Kincaid understand that? Why did he fight against her so hard when she only wished to help him in his quest for vengeance?
Her chest rose in a mournful sigh, and the way in which they rode made her distinctly aware of the broadness of his back and of the way his wavy black hair curled long against the nape of his neck. Her feelings for him were growing into emotions she could not understand. If only the Old One were here to explain what she was feeling, then she would know what to do. How she longed to return to the temple and kneel at his feet while he spoke his wise counsel.
Stone pushed hard throughout the day, and Windsor used the time to ponder her own problems. Sun-On-Wings traveled well with no complaint of pain in his mauled chest, and Windsor was glad his wounds were not deep. The bear could have ripped him apart, as he had done to the horse. All three of them had been lucky.
After many hours in the saddle, Stone finally pulled up on his reins and leaned forward to peer through the deepening dusk.
"There it is. Thank God I remembered the way. It won't take long now, an hour, maybe less."
Windsor peered around his shoulder when he raised his arm and pointed down the snow-covered valley before them. A good distance away, she could discern a cluster of small buildings where black smoke poured from a dozen stovepipes and chimneys. She could see no other sign of activity.
"Are there many people in this place?" she asked.
"Most of them work at the Ringnard Mine. If you look close, you can see the mine shaft up there on the mountainside."
High up a rocky road that wound like a serpent on the barren slopes rising above the town, Windsor finally found the mine settlement, but she could tell little about it. Stone dug his heels into the horse's flanks, and the animal lurched to a faster gait. Sun-On-Wings kept close behind them, but it took a good deal longer than Windsor had expected to reach the town. By the time they walked their mounts down the slushy, mud-sloppy major thoroughfare of Silverville, darkness had turned the valley black.
Just a few stores lined the street, with one large, two-story structure constructed at the far end of the road. Stone passed the smaller establishments without slowing, his obvious destination the brightly lit building straight ahead.
"I'll see if I can find my friend," he told them, dismounting in front of the place. Windsor remained on the horse as he flipped his reins over a wooden rail attached to the long covered porch. "Both of you wait right here, understand? Don't go anywhere. I'll find out if we can get a room for the night."
Stone's boots clomped hollowly as he moved across the wooden boards to the entrance. Sun-On-Wings slid off his horse, holding Jun-li in his arms. He looked up when Stone opened the door and tinny piano music spilled out to shatter the quiet evening. Coarse laughter and raucous shouts could be heard as Stone disappeared over the threshold and shut the door behind him, muffling the loud noise. "Is this place Arrow-Parts-Hair's lodge?" Sun-On-Wings asked curiously, gazing up at the tall clapboard structure.
"No. His house is in a place called Chicago. I do not know this place." She dismounted, taking special care with her injured foot, then looked up at the second-floor windows, where shadows moved back and forth behind the sheer white curtains of the tall glass windows. "Those within this house appear happy and content," she said to Sun-On-Wings. "They are sure to welcome us with hospitality."
"The white man is strange creature," Sun-On-Wings observed quietly. "Loud and silly."
"Yes. I have found them odd and hard to understand since I crossed the ocean to the Western world. They are very different from my Chinese friends."
"Sun-On-Wings smoke pipe of peace with Old One and warriors of China," Sun-On-Wings told her. "Then Sun-On-Wings know peace and wisdom of Yellow-Haired-Warrior-Woman."
Before Windsor could reply, Stone reappeared in the doorway in the company of a lady. Once again the discordant sounds intruded into the street. He motioned with his hand for them to come inside, but Windsor's regard rested solely on the way Stone Kincaid was holding the woman close, one arm across her shoulder.
Never before, not in China or America, had she ever seen a woman walking around only in her undergarments. Stone Kincaid's friend wore nothing except a tight garment of black lace that left her shoulders and most of her breasts bare and reached only as far as her knees. Black stockings covered her legs, and she wore black boots with high heels that buttoned to her calves. Windsor thought her quite foolish to dress in such a way on a cold winter night. When Stone motioned again, impatiently this time, Windsor slowly limped to the board walkway, and Sun-On-Wings carried Jun-li close behind her.
As they stepped into the big house, Windsor stared around with great interest. Instead of being divided into small rooms, as were most homes she had found in the United States, this place had one immense rectangular room with many lanterns hanging from long ropes secured to the ceiling. A long platform was built across the back wall, perhaps the height of Stone Kincaid's waist. Many round tables covered with green cloth were placed about the floor, each one surrounded by several bearded white men.
And there were other white women, too, dressed in the same sort of odd, filmy clothing that bared much of their bodies for the view of the men. But she was sure they did not suffer from the cold. Several iron stoves made the room stiflingly hot. Up close, she found Stone Kincaid's friend to be pretty, with luxurious black hair curled and twisted into fancy ringlets held back by jeweled combs. Her face was heavily painted, her eyes lined with black kohl, her lips bright scarlet.
"Windsor, this is Sweet Sue. She owns this place. She's the old friend I was telling you about."
"Oh, you devil," Sweet Sue cried, slapping the flat of her hand playfully against Stone's chest. "We're more'n just friends, and you know it! You're the best man I ever took into my bed, and I've had a goodly supply of handsome miners, believe you me!" She guffawed loudly, then gave Windsor an exaggerated wink, but at the same time, her eyes seemed to take in every detail of Windsor's face and body. "But as pretty as you are, dearie, I guess you know how good this one is, now don't you?"
Windsor looked at her blankly, very upset by Sweet Sue's words but not quite sure what she meant.
"Windsor's a nun, sort of," Stone was quick to explain, "so watch your tongue, Suzy."
Sweet Sue's big blue eyes grew enormous. "Oh, Lordy me, a nun, is it? Traveling with the likes of you, Stone Kincaid?"
Stone lifted a shoulder and grinned, and Sweet Sue turned back to Windsor. "Sorry, sweetie, but we sure as the devil don't get many Sisters through here, especially not inside the Pleasure Palace."
Windsor wasn't sure what sort of answer was expected from her, but the woman was obviously sincere in her welcome; she was smiling in a very friendly manner. "I am sure this house is a worthy abode," Windsor finally answered, pressing her palms together and bowing courteously from the waist.
Sweet Sue's expression went slack. She looked at Stone, who merely shrugged; then she threw back her head and gave the loud, raucous laugh that Windsor and Sun-On-Wings had heard while waiting in the street.
"Well, now, I don't know how worthy this here abode is, but my customers sure do go out that there door with great big smiles on their ugly mugs! Just ask Stone here. He brought his whole railway gang in near every night while they was building the trestle over Johnston's Canyon."
Sweet Sue's gaze moved past Windsor, obviously getting her first good look at Sun-On-Wings. Her amiable expression disintegrated. She whirled on Stone.
"What are you thinking about, bringing a wild Injun in my place?" Alarmed, she glanced behind her, as if afraid her customers would see him. "Lord have mercy, you're liable to cause a riot with all the trouble the Cheyenne and Pawnee've been kickin' up down south of here!"
"Oh, c'mon, Suzy, he's just a kid. He's not going to cause you any trouble. Nobody'll know about him anyway. If you put us up for a couple of nights, I'll make sure he stays out of sight. He'll behave himself, you have my word."
Sweet Sue looked unconvinced, but she finally smiled again, lifting herself to her toes and pressing her body close against Stone's chest. "You always could sweet-talk the devil out of hell, Kincaid. But tonight, I want you for myself, you hear?"
Windsor was most curious to hear what Stone Kincaid thought of Sweet Sue's idea. She found him smiling as if he was quite impressed with it. She frowned slightly as he gestured down a short hallway that led off to their left.
"You still operating the bathhouse, Suzy? I suspect we could all use a hot tub after riding all day in the snow."
"Sure thing. Charlie just filled 'em up for the girls, but you can use 'em if you want," she offered, lifting her hand to stroke the thick black beard covering Stone's jaw. "And do me a favor, honey. Take a minute to shave off those nasty old whiskers while you're at it. My skin's too tender to get all scratched up." She laughed. "Go on down now, and I'll fetch a couple of the girls to help." She kissed her fingertip and put it against Stone's lips, winked at Windsor, then swayed off toward a group of women at the back of the room.
Windsor watched her leave, but when she turned her gaze back to Stone, he avoided her eyes.
"C'mon," he said brusquely, "a good soaking's bound to help your ankle. Then I'll see if Suzy can find us something to eat."
Silently, Windsor and Sun-On-Wings followed him down the hall. Stone opened the door at the end and motioned for them to precede him. The bathhouse was small and even warmer than the first room. There were no windows, and two potbellied stoves glowed red-hot in the corners, with wooden tubs set in small, white-curtained alcoves along both sides of the room.
Stone closed the door and walked to the wooden hip bath nearest to him. It was full almost to the rim, and he thrust his hand down into the water. "Yeah, it's still nice and warm. Should feel good after all day in the saddle, don't you think? Just pick one and close the curtains."
A hot bath did sound nice, Windsor thought, her gaze settling on the stacks of thick towels and round cakes of yellow soap provided on tables beside each tub. In China, she had bathed her body in the lake below the temple, both in the warm summer months and in the cold of winter, but she had used the American bathing tubs when she had first arrived in San Francisco. The experience was one Western custom that she found most enjoyable.
"What big cooking pots for?" Sun-On-Wings demanded suspiciously.
"Just take off your buckskins and get in one of them," Stone muttered, annoyance threading his tone. He picked up a bar of soap. "This is called soap. You wash with it."
Sun-On-Wings' expression was full of disdain. "Brave warriors not sit in pots of hot water like skinned rabbits waiting to be boiled."
"If you want to sleep in one of Suzy's nice, soft beds, you will."
"No need bed."
"Now look, Sun-On-Wings, like I told you before, things are different among the whites. You better get used to it." As Stone spoke, he unbuckled his gun belt and laid it on the table beside the nearest tub; then he began to unbutton his shirt. "Now, if you'll pardon me, I'm going to take a bath. The two of you can do whatever you want." Metal rings scraped along the rod as he jerked the canvas curtains together.
"The Old One taught us that cleanliness of body is necessary for purity of being," Windsor told Sun-On-Wings. "The whites bathe in such places as this, just as the Little Ones wash themselves at dawn. But I will not tell you what to do. You must follow your heart in this, as you must in all things."
Sun-On-Wings gave a solemn nod. Windsor moved into the alcove across from the one Stone Kincaid had chosen. Carefully, she drew the drapes together and slipped out of her clothes
. Stepping carefully into the hip bath, she emitted a soft sigh of pleasure as she sank naked into the heated water. Her limbs were still stiff and numb from the long hours of traveling, and every inch of her flesh prickled as the warmth began to invade her cold body.
Closing her eyes, she lay back and listened to Sun-On-Wings moving around the bath cubicle behind hers. She heard him mutter a few low words in his own language; then a slosh of water told her the Osage youth had decided to try the white man's bath after all. Very relaxed, she picked up a bar of the soap and lathered it briskly between her palms. She smoothed it over her skin, and finally felt really warm again.
Not long after, the calm of the bathhouse was destroyed as a group of young women entered the room, chattering and giggling among themselves. To Windsor's shock, her privacy curtains were swept aside, and she found Sweet Sue looking down at her while two other girls peered over her shoulder. Windsor sank deeper into the security of the water.
"I bet that feels mighty fine, now don't it, sweetie? Openin' this here bathhouse was the best idea I ever did have." Suzy glanced toward Sun-On-Wings' compartment. "Joanie, you scrub down the Injun, and don't fuss 'bout it, 'cause he's right good-lookin' for a redskin. And, Shirley, you take on our little nun here. And why don't you go 'head and use a squirt of my special shampoo on that purty blond hair of hers?"
She presented Windsor with a wide smile, then turned and parted the drapes of Stone Kincaid's bath. Appalled, Windsor stared at them, realizing she could now look unrestrictedly inside Stone's bathing area.
"Here, honey," Sweet Sue was saying to him, "I brought you a smoke and a flask of my best whiskey. It'll sure take the chill out of them bones quick enough."
"Thanks, Suzy."
Windsor blushed when Sweet Sue leaned down and kissed Stone Kincaid full on the mouth. Wanting to look away, Windsor found she could not. An awful feeling erupted in the depths of her woman's breast, bringing out unwanted emotions as she watched him put his hand on the back of Sweet Sue's neck, holding her there for a more thorough exploration of her lips. The knot of sickness in the pit of Windsor's stomach grew tighter, but she dragged her eyes off the couple across the aisle as the girl named Shirley moved up beside her. She had light brown hair braided atop her head, lots of freckles, and a friendly smile. Her face was painted in a fashion similar to Sweet Sue's.