Stay With Me

by Rita Hestand

  "Charlotte, good to see you." Clay tipped his hat.

  "Is it?" she asked tightly.

  So, she'd heard the news too. How could a saloon girl be so judgmental? They always wanted sympathy from him before.

  He'd been up the stairs a few times with Charlotte, she was one of the younger girls and very pretty with her soft blonde hair and big blue eyes. Still, somehow today he saw her in a different light. She was a saloon girl, not the kind of woman he could ever settle down with. Not the kind of woman he could depend on either. He was just another cowboy, and he knew that. He was under no illusion as to their relationship.

  He ordered another beer. She leaned on the bar close like. "I never figured you for an Indian lover." She whispered.

  Clay pulled up and stared down into her sarcastic glance.

  "She's my cook and housekeeper Charlotte." Clay grit his teeth feeling that itch subside a bit. "And she's a nice person. And I like her, okay. Her and her son."

  "Is she, and what else?" Charlotte shot him a sarcastic grin.

  "I don't think I owe you an explanation Charlotte. Think what you like, you will anyway." Clay turned on her now, admiring her beauty but seeing it didn't go deep enough to suit him.

  He put his money on the bar and left.

  She heard Charlotte call out, "Squaw man!"

  Clay stood still and let the name roll off his shoulders.

  But that wasn't the end of his troubles. Haywood Nixon was out in the street and when he saw Clay he bellowed. "Well lookie here, the Injun lover."

  Clay ignored him, after all Haywood was drunk. Haywood was a big man, nearly six foot three, with bulging muscles, from cutting timber for the saw mill every day. His dirty blonde hair dripped sweat, his dark eyes penetrated Clay.

  When Haywood continued to make an issue of it, Clay turned around to face him, "Leave it alone!"

  "Cain't!" Haywood staggered. "I don't cotton to Injun lovers."

  "Your drunk Haywood." Clay started to mount his horse when suddenly a whip resounded near his ear, so close that his ear began to bleed.

  "I'm gonna wipe this town up with you, Clay. Gotta make an example of you. Someone else might get the same idea as you and go chasin' after injuns." Haywood announced as he slapped his whip to the ground, making the dust fly.

  "You want to fight, then put the whip down, and I'll fight you."

  "Well, I would fight an ordinary man, but you ain't ordinary. And you sure got this comin'." Haywood yelled and slapped the whip over Clay's shoulder. Fire bit into Clay's skin like a knife.

  Where was Judd, the Sheriff? Probably inside the saloon with his favorite girl. And uncaring of Haywood's actions. Who in this town would care? Not many, that was for sure.

  People began to gather, with a look of horror, but no one helped, no one dared go against Haywood when he was drunk, not even Judd. Whispers went around, looks of scorn were shooting in his direction.

  Clay didn't have time to react as Haywood threw the whip again and slashed his back. Again, fire burned through Clay, as his shirt tore.

  Over and over Haywood cracked the whip, hitting Clay on the back several times. His eyes blurred from the intense pain; his mind began to blank. All he could do was try to grab the leather, but Haywood jerked it away too quickly.

  When Clay lay in a heap of blood in the dirt, Haywood laughed. "Maybe you'll think twice before you take that Injun into your house again."

  Clay got to his feet with a struggle, the fire from the whip ate like acid, but he managed. He mounted his horse and rode off, without a word. He looked at the town people's faces and tipped his hat, then rode off, slowly.

  He could barely ride; every movement of his horse brought more pain from the lashes he'd taken. His eyes blurred from the pain. A light sweat broke over him.

  Clay rode for a long time in pain and agony and he was only about five miles away from his place when he fell off the horse and to the ground with a thud. The pain knocked him out.

  Charlie found him, curled in a knot an hour later, the blood had dried on him.

  "My God, son." Charlie hauled him onto his horse and rode with him pulling his own horse behind him.

  When he got to the cabin, Willa saw and came out to help.

  "What happened?" She cried, with concern in her voice.

  "I don't know, he wasn't conscious when I found him." Charlie shook his head and they carried him inside.

  "Let's get him in the bed. I will treat him." She said.

  When she realized he'd been bull whipped, a tear fell down her cheek. "This is my fault. I have brought this on him."

  "No, it's no one's fault. Let's not jump to conclusions. Let's just get him well." Charlie told her.

  "I must get some things from outside to doctor him with." She told him.

  Charlie knew she was near tears, but he didn't say another word. "Fine, I'll clean him up a bit."

  Charlie peeled the shirt off, opening a couple of wounds as he did so. Clay moaned. Charlie got a bowl of water and a rag and cleaned the wounds as best he could, shaking his head. He was unaware of the tears on his own cheeks too. He knew Willa was crying too as she headed out the door in such a hurry. Elan lay asleep in Charlie's bed.

  "Sorry son, I know this hurts." Charlie shook his head.

  Once he cleaned him up, Clay lay on his stomach on his bed.

  Willa came back in with some mud and herbs. She prepared it as a poultice and spread it over his wounds gently, as Clay moaned.

  "Will that heal him?" Charlie asked her.

  "Yes, in a few days but one of the cuts is deep, I will have to sew him up." She said as though in complete control. Her tears were gone and replaced with iron control now.

  Charlie watched her doctor Clay, saw the faces she made when he moaned.

  He got the needle and thread for her and she patiently sewed the deep wound that had Clay jerking nearly off the bed a time or two.

  Finished she stared at him, "He will heal now, but it might take a while. We must keep him still, from breaking open the scars. The poultice will take the infection away from him, but he cannot move around for a few days."

  Charlie nodded, "Thanks, you did a good job."

  She glanced at Charlie, "You don't look too good yourself. Why don't you lie down now, with Elan?"

  Charlie nodded; it wasn't the time to protest her bossiness. She was right, this had taken the starch out of him.

  ***

  Willa sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee moments later, she propped her feet on one of the other chairs. She was tired, but so worried about what she'd brought to this household. She knew she should leave now. It would not work here, even as much as she wanted it to.

  The white side of her had wanted it to work. The Indian side had warned her it wouldn't.

  She glanced at Clay as his bed was close to the bedroom door. He hadn't moved.

  Her eyes strayed over Clay with appreciation. She hated to think of leaving, but she would not bring this on them again. Once her and Elan had gone, everything would straighten out. Had it been Charlie, he'd have probably been dead. But Clay was young and would heal, still she knew she had caused this. And what if next time it was Charlie?

  A silent tear ran down her cheek, as her eyes drifted back to Clay. With his shirt off, she saw his magnificent chest and back. He was well built with good shoulders and a strong back tapering to a lean waist, and long legs. She thought him beautiful. His magnificent red hair was long and shiny. She had run her hands through his hair to pull it away from the wounds, her fingers threading it. It felt like silk. He was a very clean man, a beautiful man, her heart sighed.

  She knew her feelings had grown strong for him and it hurt to think of leaving him and Charlie. She loved them both, but she could never voice that love. Things like this would continue to happen, maybe even worse if she stayed.

  No, the sooner she left the better for them both.

  But here, in the kitchen, alone, she let the tears fall as her heart
was breaking. How had she let herself become so close to them? She knew from the start it would never work. It was the white side of her that cried.

  She glanced at Charlie curled up with Elan, who seemed so content to be close with him. Even Elan would miss them.

  She should leave now, but Charlie was sick with a consumption and Clay needed to heal. She couldn't leave either one of them now. When they needed her so. When they were better, she would go.

  She sipped her coffee and silently prayed to God that Clay and Charlie would both heal. She cared for them both, and in different ways. But she knew she must put those feelings aside and do what was right for the both of them.

  How could she put love aside though? Because she knew now, that love was the only word to describe what was between her and Clay. She knew he felt something for her too, it was in his eyes. But it was an unspoken thing between them and safer that way. When he'd touched her hand that day it was like a kiss, it went straight to her heart.

  What would a kiss from him be like? She'd probably never know, but her heart thudded in her chest at the thought. Sometimes just the way he looked at her was like a kiss, she'd felt those looks, treasured them. There was an unspoken love between them, like a small, thin, thread, but it was there, she knew it, and she kept that thought close to her heart, protecting it. She didn't think she was imagining it as his looks were too intense at times.

  How had this feeling grown so quickly? Why had she allowed it to happen? But she knew too, she had little control over her emotions these days. She was in love and her heart was winning.

  She must try to avoid these feelings, but it was almost impossible, as she knew if either of them acted upon them, it would destroy the friendship and create something much more powerful. She was convinced that their love was a silent love and could never be voiced.

  "Oh, to kiss him once, just once to have his lips on mine." She cried softly. "God forgive me, make me stronger. To be with him once, would be heaven."

  She stared as her heart pounded loudly in her chest now. She knew if she was ever with him once, she could never leave him.

  When one sought a forever kind of love, there was no going back.

  She curled up on her bunk and finally went to sleep.

  But even in her dreams he was there, staring at her with those indigo eyes that seemed to reach inside her heart. She laughed in her sleep, for here she was an Indian with erotic dreams of a man she could not have. Still, she was safe to dream of him, for no one could rob her of that. She touched her pillow as though it were his cheek and reached for the kiss that would never be.

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning Clay stirred as Charlie was staring over him with Elan in his arms.

  Willa came into the bedroom and took Elan from Charlie.

  "How are you feeling, son?" Charlie asked bending down to look into his face.

  "Like I been knifed clear through." Clay answered with a groan.

  "Can you tell us what happened?"

  "Not much, ran into Haywood."

  "Good grief, he's the one that did this?" Charlie sounded shocked.

  "Yeah, he was drunk, dad." Clay defended Haywood as he'd once been great friends with the man.

  "Why'd he do it?" Charlie frowned.

  "It doesn't matter," Clay whispered.

  "Because of me," Willa asked softly.

  Clay shot her a quick glance but said nothing. When he saw her turn away with a tear in her eye, he tried to turn over, but it was too painful, and he fell back against his bed.

  "It doesn't matter Willa." He told her. "I knew there would be some trouble. But I'm sure I can handle it too, with a little help from you."

  "It matters very much," she told him, casting him a glance over her shoulder. "You must rest, do not move around so much, you'll break open the scars."

  "I don't think you'll have much trouble from me right now." He grinned.

  She smiled softly at him. But the glance he gave her now was open, unguarded, and shocked her.

  Charlie had a coughing spell and Willa made him a tonic to drink. She needed a distraction from Clay right now.

  "Will this cure it?" Charlie asked as she handed him the drink.

  "No, but it will ease the pain and quiet the cough some." She told him.

  He nodded and took it.

  Charlie went to feed the chickens and check on the horses.

  Clay moved his head so he could see Willa working in the kitchen. She made him some oatmeal and brought it to him. He knew she felt responsible for the beating, but it no longer mattered. He knew now he'd take a dozen beating to be with her. Knowing he couldn't feed himself, nor move, she sat on the floor with Elan and fed Clay.

  She folded her legs around her, pulling at her dress, as his eyes went over her thoroughly. The magnetic force of attraction pulled her closer to him, so close she could smell the male scent of him. The muscles in his arm flexed as his eyes burned with a hunger.

  She tried to ignore his amorous glances but the heat from his body told her she wasn't imagining it.

  She licked her lips, forcing herself under control.

  Clay reached for her hand and held it. It was soft, and cool, and he threaded his fingers with hers. She didn't pull away or object, she was mesmerized by his action. "Don't fret about this Willa, please." He told her softly.

  "It is my fault that you have been beaten." She shook her head.

  "No, it was a drunk's fault, not yours." He told her and squeezed her hand. His warm breath fanned her cheek as she came closer to feed him. She couldn't pull away if she wanted to. And she didn't, she silently admitted. He had taken a beating—for her!

  The way he took the food into his mouth seduced her as his eyes never left hers.

  "You are hungry?" she asked breathlessly.

  "I've been watching you all morning and working up quite an appetite." He grinned.

  She tried to ignore his hand in hers, tried to squash that love he offered with only a hand. Her heart wanted to say so many things, but her mind held her at bay.

  She fed him to make him hush. He swallowed a couple of bites. "Oatmeal, I haven't had that in a long time." He smiled.

  "It is good for you, makes your hair shiny and thick." She told him with a soft smile, trying to distract him from what was on both their minds.

  "Is that why you have such beautiful hair?" he asked.

  She stared; her cheeks blossomed. "You must rest."

  She started to move away, but his hand stayed her, "I haven't finished eating yet."

  She bowed her head and fed him some more. When he was through, she wiped his lips with a linen napkin she found in the kitchen drawer. Their eyes locked onto each other almost hungrily as she realized the intimacy of the act. After she wiped his lips, he kissed her hand. "Thanks."

  She swallowed hard. Her eyes traveled him now, and he saw her looking. It was a blatant look that said more than any words she could conjure at the moment. He lay there half naked, and her eyes touched what her hand could not.

  "I wish it were your lips," he murmured.

  Her eyes widened; her brow rose. "You should not say such a thing. Go to sleep now, you are delirious." she insisted moving away quickly before she did something she shouldn't.

  He chuckled softly and whispered to himself with a smile, "I'm not delirious, I'm in love."

  But she did not hear him, she had picked Elan up and walked back to the safety of the kitchen. She wasn't afraid of him, only that he could break her heart, or mend it one.

  He slept and she went to help Charlie outside. She had to, if he said much more, she'd be in his arms and he was in no condition for something like that. Besides, it would be a huge mistake.

  Her head told her this, her heart told her something entirely different as it drummed against her chest now.

  She kept the kiss close to her heart, it comforted her.

  She spent the day with Elan in his cradle and working alongside Charlie. Charlie might collapse hi
mself and she needed to be with him, even though her heart wanted to be with Clay, it was not wise in any way. Besides, Charlie needed to be watched in case he fell out from the heat.

  For several days she doctored them both and did her best to keep her distance. Charlie helped her with Elan a lot, which made it easier to do her chores around the house.

  Once in a while, she'd glance at Clay who still lay on the bed and see him staring. His sexy grin made her heart leap. It was as though they were talking without their lips, she mused.

  Clay was gaining his strength each day and although the scars from the whip were healing, it felt tight to move around and several times when he did, he broke open a couple of scars.

  Willa fussed over them both and at night she'd sit in the kitchen and dream about the small kiss to her hand that she shared with Clay. She'd dream about the things she saw in his eyes too. Her heart was heavy because she loved him so, but dare she let him know?

  How hard it would be to leave them, she thought with a tear escaping down her cheek. She was in love with Clay and she knew it, but it was hopeless. He took the beating for her. And she loved him even more for it, but she couldn't bring any more harm upon them, she cared too much.

  She went to sleep with Elan that night and whispered softly into his ear, "We love them both too much…"

  The next morning Clay was up and moving around in the kitchen. She woke up a bit groggy.

  "What are you doing out of bed?" she asked as she put Elan in the makeshift highchair that Charlie had made for him.

  "I'm feeling better and it's time for me to get back to helping dad."

  "How do you feel?"

  "It itches like crazy." He complained.

  She smiled, "That is good, it is healing then. I will put some Aloe Vera on it and that will sooth it some before you go out."

  "I have a good doctor."

  She chuckled and put the coffee on. Clay came up to her and pulled her back against him, his arms going around her, just under her breasts.