Authors: Norah Hess
give Johnny hand, we'll get Henry into the cabin."
When Henry's heavy body had been struggled into the shack and placed on a sagging bed, Jamie asked, "Should I send Granny Pearson over to help you lay him out?"
"Thank you, Jamie, but there's no need. I'll do it."
"When will you have the burial?"
Jamie saw the struggle going on in the woman's eyes and guessed correctly that Meg Jones would rather not have a burial at all. If custom didn't demand it, she'd dig a hole and dump her husband into it before the sun went down.
She spoke finally. "Tomorrow mornin', early." When Jamie looked his surprise, she added, "No use to have a wake. Nobody would come. The sooner we get him in the ground, the faster we can get on with our lives. Me and Johnny and the older ones have to get a crop in the ground and get the garden planted."
There was an enthusiasm in her voice that Jamie knew hadn't been there for years. "You're probably right, Meg," he agreed, then said, "I'll get Ike Stevens to help me dig the grave."
Surprise flickered over Meg's face. "Thank you, Jamie, that's right neighborly of you."
As Jamie rode away, he could swear ten years had dropped off Meg Jones's face.
He was about a mile from the Donlin cabin when he met Aggie and her daughters. He pulled in the roan, smiled at the mother, and gave Mary and Angeline a flirtatious grin. Aggie gave the giggling girls a dark look, then said, "We just come from visitin' Raegan. Is it true? Has Henry Jones been been killed by the Tillamooks?"
"Ole fat Henry has been done in," Jamie answered, not correcting Aggie's belief that the Indians from across the river had killed the man.
"I don't reckon Meg and the children cried much."
"Nary a tear." Jamie grinned. "She's gonna plant him early tomorrow mornin'."
"I don't blame her," Aggie's eyes snapped. "I'd get that one under ground as soon as possible."
"Do you think Ike would mind givin' me a hand diggin' the grave?"
"Yes, he'll help you, but only because of Meg and the children. As for Henry Jones himself, Ike wouldn't care if he laid in the woods and rotted."
She fastened curious eyes on Jamie. "What about Chase? Couldn't he give you a hand? Where's he got off to anyway? Raegan mumbled somethin' about him lookin' for new trappin' areas."
Damn you, Chase,
Jamie thought. He'd better get home pretty damn quick. His absence was makin' it damned awkward for Raegan. He met the sharp eyes that watched him intently. "Yeah, he is," he answered Aggie. "He might be back today, but in case he doesn't show up until tomorrow, I thought I'd go ahead and ask Ike to help me."
Aggie seemed satisfied with his response and lifted the reins that lay loosely on her mount's neck. "I'll tell Ike," she said as she nudged the horse into motion. Mary and Angeline looked coyly at Jamie before following her and giggled at the slow wink he gave them.
Raegan waved goodbye to Aggie and the girls, then hurried back inside, pausing to bar the door behind her. As she cleared the table of used cups and spoons, she glanced often out the window. She was still upset over what had happened to the Jones man. There was not another living soul in the vicinity of the cabin—unless of course there were Tillamooks lurking around behind buildings and trees, waiting to pounce upon an unwary person.
Had the war with the Tillamooks started? she wondered as she prepared a basin of warm sudsy water. Had they tired of searching for the woman and decided to seek revenge on any white person they come upon? "Damn that Roscoe to hell!" she muttered, wiping the table free of cookie crumbs she and her guests had spilled. How many would lose their lives because of his heinous act? she wondered.
She thought of Aggie and the girls hurrying home and prayed that they would make it safely to their cabin. She had been surprised when they knocked on the door shortly after Jamie and Johnny had left. It just wasn't safe for women to ride alone these days. Aggie had made light of her alarm until Raegan told her about Henry Jones. Her face had gone white, and she and the girls had eaten one cookie apiece, gulped down a cup of coffee, then headed for home.
Raegan moved to the side of the window and peered in the direction Jamie and Johnny had taken. Jamie had been gone at least an hour. Shouldn't he have returned by now? Her nerves tightening at an alarming rate, she poured herself a cup of coffee in the hope that the brew would help calm her.
"And where is that worthless Chase Donlin?" she muttered as she sat down at the table and reached for the sugar bowl. If he was so fond of his sister Anne, as he insisted on calling her, why wasn't he here to look after her daughter?
As Raegan stirred the spoon round and round in the cup, unaware of the action, her fretful thoughts flew out of her mind as Lobo crawled from beneath the table and sniffed at the door. Alarm shivering up and down her spine, she rose and hurried to the door, resting an ear against it.
She heard the faint beat of loping hooves. Whomever the rider was, he was in no hurry. And it was a white man, because as the hoofbeats came closer, she could hear the occasional ring of a horseshoe striking gravel. An unshod Indian pony made a thudding sound with its hooves.
When Jamie rode into view, she was so weak with relief that her trembling fingers had a hard time unbarring the door. She stepped out on the porch as Jamie swung from the saddle. "Is the Jones man dead?" she asked right away.
"As dead as he'll ever be." Jamie snubbed the roan to an apple tree Raegan was trying to coax back to life. "I just stopped by long enough to let you know I'm goin' over to the Stevens place to ask Ike . .." He paused to look over his shoulder. "Riders comin'," he said, and stepped up on the porch, his hand on his colt.
Raegan's heart fluttered, then beat so rapidly she feared it would escape her body. "Shouldn't we go inside?" She tugged at Jamie's arm. "What if they are Tillamooks?"
Jamie shook his head, grinning crookedly. "It's your wanderin' husband finally comin' home."
The sun was straight overhead when Chase and Star came to a cross trail and took the one that led to the village of Green Valley. Chase wondered how far along the preacher was in his sermon. Was he almost finished shouting his hellfire and brimstone to the women? His sermon should be much shorter since he'd had his orders not to preach about man and woman lying together without benefit of the marriage vows. He had previously raged on for hours on that topic, waving his arms and shouting that fornicators were headed straight for hell. Tears would come into the eyes of many wives, suspecting that at this very minute their husbands could very well be pumping away at a whore while they waited for the services to be over.
He tightened his grip on the reins and urged Sampson to a faster gait, but his eyes still scanned the hills and valleys as they thundered on. He hadn't ridden easy in the saddle since the day Roscoe stole the Tillamook woman. As for that, neither had any of the other men. They had given up the pratice of hunting alone and now went out in pairs, one man watching their backs.
The stallion lunged up a hill, and the village lay below. Chase grunted his relief. The preacher was still in Green Valley. Even from this distance he could hear the high-pitched warning of a fiery hell. The man of the cloth was still going strong. He pulled the stallion up, motioning Star to do the same with her sorrel. She looked at him questioningly.
"Look, Star, I need to talk to the preacher a minute. Would you mind waiting here for me? It'll only take me a minute."
Star looked down at all the women gathered around the shouting man and readily agreed. She was mostly a stranger to white women, having seen only a few whores when she went with Paw to the rendezvous. And Paw never let her get near them.
"You go ahead." She swung to the ground. "I'll just give Champ a little rest while I'm waitin'."
Chase nodded and nudged Sampson into motion. Nearing the village, his gaze went to the cottonwood tree, where several women and children sat on the ground, listening intently to the words being hurled at them like bullets from a gun. When he stepped out of the saddle a minute later and tethered the stallion to a tree, the worshipers rose to their feet and burst into song.
"Looks like we arrived just in time, boy." He gave Sampson an affectionate pat, then leaned against the tree and waited until the last words of "Shall We Gather at the River" rose above the tree tops. He waited until the preacher was throwing a saddle on his bony mule, preparing to ride out,
then straightened from his lounging stance.
He smiled and spoke genially to the women who milled about, catching up on gossip or calling to their children, as he made his way to the tall raw-boned man. He ignored the venomous dislike in the yellow-brown eyes when he stood in front of the Calvinist.
"I'd like a few words with you, preachin' man," he said, laying a restraining hand on the mule's back.
"Now look here, Donlin." Chase received a dark look. "I didn't say nary a word about fornicatin.'"
"I took note of that." Chase nodded. "I want to speak to you on another matter. Finish saddlin' up, then we'll talk."
The man of the cloth gave him a suspicious look, but tended to tightening the cinch and flipping the stirrups into place. "Well," he said, looking at Chase, "what do you want to talk about? I can't stand around here all day. I have to travel fifteen miles to the next village."
"I want you to perform a marriage ceremony."
"Has that half-breed friend of yours finally found a woman willin' to take him on as a husband?" the preacher sneered.
Chase ground his teeth together, tempted to back-hand the man across the mouth. He contented himself by answering, "No it's not Jamie Hart wantin' to get hitched. With the exception of one woman in these hills, there's not a female worthy of bein' his wife."
He received a dry snort, followed by, "Who wants to get married then that they have to send you to do the askin'?"
"Me."
"You?" The sunken eyes stared at Chase. "I heard you was already married."
"Well I'm not, and I don't want to hear any preachin' about it. All you have to do is show my intended respect and marry us. If you satisfy me with your behavior, I'll not tell a soul about you and the Indian girl—also providin', of course, you don't tell anyone about the marriage you're gonna perform today."
When he received only a black scowl, he took a menacing step toward the preacher. "Answer me, damn you. Is it a deal?"
The man tried to out-glare him, but in a few seconds he looked away, mumbling, "It's a deal."
"I figured you'd see it my way," Chase said sardonically. "Show up at my cabin an hour from now."
Now, Chase thought, as he untied the stallion and climbed onto his back, all I have to do is convince Raegan.
He found Star waiting where he had left her and gave her a wide smile. "Mount up and we'll get on home."
Raegan shielded her eyes with her hand, blocking out the sun's rays. So, at last he remembers he has a home, she thought, anger darkening her eyes. She transfered her gaze to Chase's companion and wondered who the Indian lad was as she took in the buckskins and long black hair.
But as the pair rode into the yard and swung down from the saddles, Raegan's face paled and her heart felt squeezed to death. It was no boy who stood beside Chase, but a young girl.
Damn the man!
she raged inside. How dare he bring his whore into their home, sleep with her practically under the nose of his supposed wife. What would Jamie think and do about that?
Chase gazed at Raegan, thinking how beautiful she was, how deeply he loved her. The westward-moving sun stroked its beams over her as though glorifying her as she stood regal as a queen. Her
curls were piled on top her head and tied with a green ribbon, exposing the delicate lines of her features. Her green gingham dress lovingly followed the outline of her full breasts and tiny waist before the full skirt fell to her ankles. Chase wanted to grin at the sight of her bare toes peeping out beneath the hem.
Meanwhile, her face stony, Raegan kept her eyes on the girl. The tight buckskins on the slender body magnified every curve and swell as though she wore nothing at all. When she heard Jamie catch his breath, then breathe so heavily she thought his lungs would collapse, she wanted to turn around and slap his face. She stared at the girl's deeply tanned face, wondering what it looked like beneath all the dirt as large brown eyes stared back at her guardedly. She shifted her gaze to Chase and was surprised to see uncertainty in his eyes also.
Surely she was mistaken about that. Chase Donlin couldn't care less how she felt about him bringing home his woman. She didn't allow her face to show any of the furious anger that was building inside her as she said calmly, "So, you've returned home, Chase."
Chase flinched at her cold tone. He surely wasn't receiving a very warm welcome. He shifted his feet, then asked awkwardly, "Have you been all right while I was away?"
Raegan ignored his query. A lot he cared how she had fared in his absence. For all he knew, the Tillamooks could have raped and scalped her. She was about to ask Chase who his friend was when Jamie drawled sarcastically, "What's
that you've drug home with you, Chase?"
"Hey now, Jamie," Chase began, a disapproving frown on his face, "that's uncalled for. This is—" He stopped short. Star was scowling ferociously, and her hand had whipped to the broad-bladed knife strapped to her waist.
"Whew!" Jamie took a step back in pretended alarm, his eyes sparkling devilishly. "Chase, you've done gone and brought us home a wildcat."
"Maybe I have at that." Chase grinned. "Do you think you could tame her?"
A slumberous look came into Jamie's gray eyes as he ran his gaze over the slender figure. "Maybe," he said softly. "I'd sure as hell like to try."
"Lay a hand on me and you'll draw back a stub," Star threatened. "I have no time for half-breeds," she sniffed contemptously.
Jamie threw back his head and roared with laughter. "Aren't you callin' the kettle black, you sharp-tongued little witch?" he came back at her. "Where do you think you got that dark skin and that black mess you call hair?"
Star tossed her head and, after giving Jamie an icy look, turned her back on him. He opened his mouth to prod her further, but Chase cut him off by turning to Raegan and saying, "Raegan, this is Star Daniels. She'll be staying with us while her grandfather goes to a rendezvous with the trappers in his territory."
He put a hand on Star's shoulder. "Star, this is my wife, Raegan. I'm sure the two of you will get along just fine—be company for each other." And while Raegan barely restrained an affronted gasp, Chase went on, "And this brash fellow is Jamie Hart, my friend. Beware of him. He's a devil with the weaker sex."
Star smiled shyly at Raegan, but Jamie received only a sneering curl of her lip. It startled her when she received the same grimace from him. To avoid further arguing between Jamie and Star and to escape Raegan's frigid manner, Chase said, "Raegan, shall we show Star to the room she'll be using?"
"And where is that, Chase?" Jamie asked coldly. "Your room?"
It dawned on Chase why he was receiving the dirty looks. Jamie and Raegan thought he had brought Star home to sleep with him. He was hard-pressed not to let loose the laughter that was almost choking him. At the same time, he realized that it was plausible they would think that, especially Raegan. His refusing to sleep with
her,
make love to her, would naturally make her think that he would look elsewhere for his pleasuring.
Well, he'd have to set them straight. Pinning Jamie with cool eyes, he said, "That's right. My
old
room. The one I used before . . . Raegan came into my life."
What he'd hoped for didn't materialize. Raegan and Jamie still looked at him coldly. "They'll just have to wait and see," he muttered to himself. Taking Star by the arm, he stepped up on the porch.
For a moment it looked as if Jamie wasn't going to step aside to let Chase and Star pass into the kitchen. He was wondering if he'd have to come to blows with his friend when Raegan wheeled and led the way inside. He could feel Jamie's eyes stabbing at his back as he followed Raegan down the hall to the bedrooms. His lips firmed. He was going to talk to that young man and straighten out his thinking.
Star stepped on Chase's heel once in her preoccupation with everything that was so strange to her. Poor wild little creature, he thought, this was probably the first she had ever been inside a real house, seen proper furniture. He tried to catch Raegan's eye as they reached his door and she stepped aside, waiting for him and Star to pass inside. But she stared ahead, her face still cold and stony.
Raegan was about to turn and walk back to the kitchen when she happened to glance at Star. The girl was looking at the bed in bewilderment. Raegan looked at the bed also, wondering what was wrong with it.
Behind her, Chase chuckled. "I'm afraid we don't have swingin' beds like you do, Star. You'll have to get used to a regular one."
Raegan was musing on what a swinging bed was, when Chase asked, "Will you help me carry my clothes across the hall, Raegan?"
Momentary bewilderment flickered in Raegan's eyes. Had Chase been sincere about not sharing his room with the girl after all? Her source of hope, her desire that it was so, died when her inner voice pointed out, "What's to prevent him from visiting Star before he comes to your bed?"
She nodded stiffly and grabbed an armful of soft buckskins that Chase was transfering from his chest of drawers to the bed. "Star, you can put your things in the drawers now." Chase smiled at the still bewildered girl. Then, his arms clamped over the balance of his clothes and his razor, shaving mug, comb and brush in his hand, he followed Raegan out of the room.
They were no sooner in her room, and the door closed, when Raegan tossed the clothes on the bed and turned on him. "How could you? She's only a child!"
Her condemnation brought Chase swinging around. "How could I
what,
Raegan? Bring an orphan girl into our home? Although she doesn't know it, she is gonna lose the grandfather who raised her. Should I have left her to live in a cave alone, prey to any man who came along? Would you rather I'd have done that?"
Chase had advanced on Raegan as his words whipped at her, shamed her. "What sort of man do you think I am, Raegan?" He jerked her slenderness up against his hard body.
"Do you put me in the sdme category as fat Roscoe or Henry Jones?" He glared down at her pale face. "For God's sake, the girl is only sixteen years old. I'm almost old enough to be her father."
Although Raegan knew that sixteen wasn't considered too young to be bedded—a lot of girls were married and mothers younger than that— she knew that Chase wasn't lying. He had brought Star home with him for the reason he had stated.
Her green eyes asking for forgiveness, she whispered, "I'm sorry, Chase."
The cold glint in Chase's eyes warmed. He sat down on the edge of the bed and patted the space beside him. "Come here, Raegan, I want to talk to you."
Raegan's heart beat slowed almost to a standstill, her mind reverting against her better instincts to what she had first believed. Chase did intend to visit Star at night, and this sharing of her room was only a front to deceive Jamie.
In dumb misery, she moved to the bed and sat down, bracing herself for what was to come. When Chase took her hand and held it, her heartbeat stepped up, thundering in her chest. "What do you want to talk about?" her dread-stiffened voice managed to ask.
"I want you to marry me." Chase's words hit her with the impact of a rifle shot.
"What?" The single word left Raegan's lips with the same explosive power. "What reason would you have for marrying me?"
Chase wanted to say, "Because I love you beyond all reasoning. Because if you don't share my life for the rest of my life, I would merely exist until the day I die."
But he knew she wouldn't believe him, and with good reason. He had no doubt it was still fresh in her mind how only two days ago he had declared how wrong it was for them to sleep together. He would have to make his actions convince her as time went by.
"I have a very good reason to marry you, Raegan," he said softly.
"Well I'd like to hear what it is." Raegan gave him a dark look. "Considering what you said after
we . . . previously ... it makes no sense at all."
"Has it occured to you that you might be pregnant?"
Raegan stared at Chase, her eyes widening, showing that the possibility had never entered her mind. After a moment, she threw back her head in a gesture of denial.
"Oh yes," Chase insisted. "You very well could be. To my shame I didn't take any percautions to protect you."
Raegan's face paled to absolute whiteness. She wanted to be married to Chase more than anything else in the world, but not this way—not a sham marriage, a mockery of the vows that should mean so much.
"Well." Chase squeezed her hand. "What's your answer?"
Raegan wanted to laugh hysterically. What answer could she give him except yes. Certainly she didn't want to bring a fatherless baby into the world. But what if she wasn't expecting? Chase would have married her for nothing. Had he thought about that?
"Shouldn't we wait and see if I am with child? It was only that one night."
"But how many times that one night?" Chase smilingly teased.
Raegan blushed, remembering that night of love-making. Chase's seed could very well be growing beneath her heart. She sighed, coming to a decision.
"All right," she agreed, "but we won't—you know, do anything in bed in case there hasn't been a baby started. If I get my flow at the end of the month, you won't have to feel guilty and you can have the marriage set aside."
Chase turned her hand over and stroked a finger back and forth on the soft inner side of her wrist. He bit his tongue not to smile when her pulse leapt and throbbed against his caressing action. With just a few kisses and the stroking of his hands in certain places, she would surrender herself to him within minutes. There was no doubt in his mind that he would make love to his wife tonight, no matter what agreement they might come to now.
He released her hand and stood up, drawing her up with him. "The preacher will be here before long and I've got to get Jamie and Star out of the house." He kissed her on her straight, slightly freckled nose. "While I take care of that, you can get ready."
Chase found Jamie out on the back porch, staring off into space, a dark frown on his face. He didn't turn around when Chase cleared his voice, preparatory to speaking. However, his head jerked around, his expression clearing, when Chase spoke.
"Jamie," he began, "I've got to have some time alone with Raegan. I've got a lot to make up to her, a lot of explain' to do. Would you take Star for a walk or a ride, stay away from the cabin for an hour or so?"
Jamie grinned. "That's askin' a lot of me, friend. That wildcat might decide to scalp me. Anyhow, I doubt that she'd go anywhere with me."
Chase frowned thoughtfully. That bothered him too. Unlike all the other young women and girls in the neighborhood, Jamie's good looks hadn't impressed Star in the least. He remembered then the girl's love of wild animals. "She'll go with you if you tell her you're takin' her to see the herd of wild horses that graze in that valley over by the Jones place."
"Oh, speaking of the Joneses." Jamie straightened up from his lazy stance. "Henry Jones is dead."
"The hell you say? How'd he die?"
"Well accordin' to young Johnny. . ." Jamie proceeded to tell Chase the whole story. "I was goin' to ask Ike Stevens to help me dig Henry's grave, but now that you're home you can help me."
Chase nodded absently, his mind on getting Jamie and Star from under foot. The preacher would be here in a little over half an hour. "I'll go get Star," he said.
Star was sitting in the straight-backed chair when Chase rapped on the door, then entered her room. Her shoulders were slumped and she wore a poignant look on her small face. Pity for the girl stirred inside him. She must be bewildered by all the changes taking place in her life.
"Have you settled in then, Star?" he asked gently.
"I reckon. I put my duds in that thing over there like Raegan said to do." She pointed at Chase's dresser.
What Star didn't add, and what had shocked her to the core of her being, was that for the first time in her life she had viewed all of herself at one time in the big mirror. Although she had a small framed piece of shiny tin to look into back at the cave, it only dimly reflected back pieces of her face at a time—her lips, her eyes, but never both at the same time. It had never revealed the deplorable condition of her hair. The clear still water of a shaded pool had always softened her image when she gazed into it, had shadowed her hair. Had she known the word appalling, she would have used it to describe herself. She recalled Raegan's luxuriant locks and wanted to bury her own head in her arms.
"That's fine," Chase said, although inattentively, anxious to get at what he had come here for. "How do you like my friend Jamie?" He set the opening for his next question.
Star lifted her head from the contemplation of her grubby hands and almost spat, "I don't like him at all. He's the hatefulest man I ever laid eyes on."
"He's not, not really," Chase tried to defend Jamie. "He just likes to tease. He sent me in here to ask you if you wanted to go for a ride with him."
"I wouldn't go with him to a spring of water if I was dyin' of thirst."
"I'm right sorry you feel that way, Star. You see, Jamie loves all animals and he wanted to show you a secret place of his. A valley of wild horses."
"Wild horses?" Star's small face brightened with interest. "I guess I might be able to put up with him to see that."
"Sure you could." Chase took her by the arm and practically lifted her from the chair. "You won't be sorry," he added, hurrying her to the door, then glancing at the clock as they passed through the kitchen. Star gave him a perplexed look when she was unceremoniously shoved out onto the porch.
She took her bafflement out on Jamie by saying ungraciously, "Well, come on, let's go look at those horses you're so fond of."
Inside the kitchen, Chase held his breath, afraid that Jamie's quick temper would make him refuse to take the sharp-tongued Star anywhere. But thankfully, Jamie contented himself with giving her a contemptuous look, then led the way to the barn to saddle up their mounts.
During Chase's finagling, Raegan had washed her face and taken a quick sponge bath. As she pulled her least faded dress over her head, she wished she had a new one for this special occasion. Every woman deserved a new dress when she was getting married.
She picked up her brush and began pulling it through her mahogany red curls, thinking that the event about to take place was hardly special to Chase. To him it was a punishment for losing control one night.
"I don't know if I can go through with it, Lobo," she said to the wolf, who had been watching her every move. She finished with her hair and laid the brush back down on the dresser. What a hellish life stretched ahead of her—living out the years with a man who didn't love her.
To Chase it wouldn't make all that much difference. He'd go along as usual, doing as he pleased, using the tavern women when he had the urge,