Reckless Desire (25 page)

Cloud Walker held Mary all through the night, his eyes lingering on her face when she slept, his fingers threading through her hair, his lips brushing her cheek.

Mary woke just before dawn and they made love one last time, clinging to each other until, at last, it was time to part. There were tears in Mary’s eyes when she left the lodge. She did not look back.

Later that afternoon Cloud Walker stood in the shadow of the barn watching as Mary and Katherine climbed into the buggy beside Hannah and Shadow. His eyes burned with unshed tears as the buggy pulled away from the house, his throat ached with the need to call her back, to beg her not to go. But he only stood there watching until she was out of sight.

It was hard to let Mary go, hard to watch Katherine board the train. Our house would be empty without them. We watched the train until it was out of sight, then Shadow gave me a comforting squeeze and we started for home.

In the days that followed, it got so that I hated to pick up a newspaper, for Frank Smythe’s name or picture seemed to appear in practically every issue. He had made several generous contributions to various charity organizations in the East, he was making speeches for Teddy Roosevelt, he was dedicating a new hospital wing. Only Carry Nation received more publicity than Frank. Armed with righteous zeal, Carry Nation had led a group of women through Kansas in an anti-liquor crusade, damaging or destroying many establishments that sold alcoholic beverages. Women all over America cheered her efforts to abolish Demon Rum.

Cloud Walker was subdued these days. He moped around the house for over a week, hardly eating, rarely speaking to anyone. He spent hours grooming Mary’s leopard Appaloosa filly, currying the animal to within an inch of its life. I knew it made him feel closer to Mary, caring for something that had been hers. Once I found him in Mary’s room just standing there staring out the window, his dark eyes filled with such pain my heart went out to him.

Cloud Walker haunted the post office in town, hoping for a letter from Mary, yet knowing she probably would not write. Mary had said that if Frank would not give her a divorce, she was going to do the best to make her marriage work for Katherine’s sake, knew that trying to be a good wife did not include sending love letters to someone back home.

Cloud Walker spent a lot of time with Shadow. The mares were foaling now, and the two men spent many nights sleeping in the barn or out in the pasture, wanting to be on hand when needed. Usually the mares had no trouble, but now and then a foal was born breech, or the mare died. Indeed, one of our older mares did die late that spring. It was left to Blackie to tend the orphan colt, a chore he loved.

Blackie moved the colt into a stall in the barn, and for the next few weeks our son spent most of his waking hours looking after the colt. The colt followed Blackie everywhere he went, tagging at his heels like a puppy. Blackie named the orphan foal Tag-Along, and it was a sight to see, watching our son and the young horse playing chase out in the pasture with the other mares and foals.

Blackie was growing and changing. He was doing well in school and had many friends in town, and Monica Sullivan openly adored him. She often found excuses to come to our house. Blackie did not seem overly interested in Monica as a girl, but he thought she was an okay friend because she wasn’t afraid of spiders or snakes like other girls, and she liked frogs and rabbits. Too, she could sit a horse almost as well as Blackie.

Our son spent his weekends making rounds with Chester Cole, and when the veterinarian started to pay Blackie a small wage for his assistance, our son was in heaven. Imagine, being paid for doing something you loved! Blackie began saving the money he earned so he could go to college and study to become a veterinarian, and Pa told Blackie that he would match him dollar for dollar that he saved.

In mid-June the railroad came to Bear Valley. Shadow frowned as the first railroad car arrived amid a clatter of wheels and a cloud of black smoke. Civilization was here at last. The townspeople were thrilled. No longer would they have to make the long journey by horseback or carriage to Steel’s Crossing to catch a train for the East. Now they could ride to the railroad station at the southern edge of the valley. No longer were we cut off from the rest of the world. No longer would supplies and goods ordered from the East have to be picked up at Steel’s Crossing. Items ordered through the mail could be shipped directly to our town. It was cause for celebration, and Bear Valley threw a party to welcome the railroad.

It was quite a holiday. The school shut down, the saloons gave away free beer, the drug store offered free popcorn and root beer. There were speeches by the mayor, newly elected only a month ago, and by several of the railroad men who promised that the arrival of the iron horse would bring prosperity for everyone.

Pa nodded his head dubiously. It
would
be nice to be able to ship his cattle East, he opined, but he for one hated to see progress reach Bear Valley.

Shadow agreed. The railroad would bring more goods, but it would also bring more people. And it did. I could not believe how quickly Bear Valley grew. New buildings seemed to spring up almost overnight. Tall buildings with balconies and latticework, false-fronted buildings with fancy scrollwork and shutters and lavish decorations. There was a new saloon, a new hotel, a new restaurant, three new stores, an ice cream parlor, and a Chinese laundry. Mr. Ling, owner of the laundry, drew as many curious stares as Shadow had once drawn. Even I could not help staring at him the first time I saw him. He was a remarkably tiny man, with a small goatee and a queue that hung past his waist. He wore long silk gowns embroidered with fans and dragons, and a shiny black skullcap. His wife was also very tiny. She too wore long silk gowns, and she always walked behind her husband when they went outside the shop. She was very quiet, but she had a warm smile and lovely dark eyes.

I saw a restlessness in Shadow in the days that followed the arrival of the railroad. Often I caught him staring westward toward the vast prairie that stretched away for miles, the earth clean and unscarred, untouched by hoe or plow. Often he threw a bridle on Smoke and went for long rides alone. I knew, without asking, what he was thinking. And Cloud Walker confirmed my suspicions.

“He is feeling closed in,” Cloud Walker remarked one day as Shadow rode away from our place toward the Black Hills. “There are too many people now.”

“I know,” I said, smiling sadly. “Shadow will never be totally civilized. A part of him will always want to wander, to see land that is free and wild.”

Cloud Walker nodded. “This is no way for a warrior to live,” he said, gesturing at our house and the barn and corrals. “A warrior should live free, with only his horse, his woman, and his weapons.”

“I’m afraid the day of the warrior is over,” I said with a sigh. “And the day of the white man is here.”

“Would you leave all this if Two Hawks Flying asked you to?”

“Leave?” I glanced at our home, at the trees and the corral and the horses frolicking in the distant pasture. “Has Shadow spoken to you of leaving?”

“No. But I think he thinks of it often.”

I stared out at the prairie. It was beautiful now. The grass was a bright green, the sky a clear azure blue, the trees decked out with tender green leaves, the wildflowers in bloom. Yes, it was lovely now, but in winter it would become a cold and lonely place. If Shadow wanted to move on, would I want to go? Our home was snug and comfortable. I liked having neighbors nearby, liked having people around me, though I enjoyed my privacy, too. I liked being able to browse through Pendergast’s Dry Goods Store for material and dresses, to be able to go into town when I ran out of sugar or salt or thread or bacon. I wasn’t a young girl anymore, and the thought of starting over in a new place seemed more like work than another adventure.

And what about Hawk and Victoria? What about Blackie? He wanted to go to school and study to become a veterinarian. And what of Mary? And Cloud Walker? And my grandchildren? I could not leave Jacob and Jason. I wanted to be here, to see them grow up.

I thought about what Cloud Walker had said as I prepared dinner that night. Once, Shadow had discussed all his hopes and dreams with me. Why was he keeping this to himself? Was he afraid to tell me he wanted to move farther west? Was he afraid I wouldn’t go with him? Or had he neglected to mention it because it was merely a passing fancy?

I caught Shadow watching me several times that evening, his dark eyes thoughtful. Once he started to say something, then changed his mind.

It wasn’t until we were alone in our room that night that he asked what was troubling me.

“You are,” I admitted. “Why haven’t you told me what’s bothering
you
?”

Shadow frowned. “Nothing is bothering me.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I said softly. “You’ve never lied to me.”

“Hannah—”

“If you’re not happy here, why haven’t you told me? Why did I have to hear it from someone else?”

“Who has told you I am unhappy here?”

“Cloud Walker said you wanted to move on, to get away from Bear Valley.”

“I never said that.”

“But you’ve thought about it.”

“Yes.” Shadow gazed out the window. “It grows too crowded here to suit me. There are too many people, too much confusion. But I would not ask you to leave, Hannah. You spent too many years following me from place to place, living from day to day. Never knowing where your next meal was coming from. This in your home, our home. We will stay here.”

“But you’d like to leave, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.” His voice was low, filled with a deep yearning.

I turned away, unable to look at him, unable to face the unhappiness in his eyes. I had caught a wild creature when I married Shadow, I mused. I had caught him and gentled him, but he was still a wild creature under all the trappings of civilization, a wild creature who yearned to be free.

Shadow took me in his arms then and we did not discuss it any more that night. I clung to my husband, telling him with my kisses and my caresses that I loved him, needed him. Loved him. We made love desperately, our bodies straining to be close, closer, as if by the very force of our love we could solve all our problems and make them go away. My hands stroked Shadow’s flesh, loving every hard-muscled inch, loving the way his skin felt beneath my hands and lips and against my flesh. His mouth nuzzled my breasts as his hands kneaded my back and thighs, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, drawing him closer as my hips arched upward to receive him. I was whole then, complete at last.

Later, when Shadow was sleeping peacefully beside me, the tears came.

PART THREE

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Mary took a deep breath as she stepped off the train. She spotted Frank immediately and forced herself to smile as he made his way toward her.

“Welcome home, Mary,” Frank said, kissing her cheek. He glanced at the baby, sleeping peacefully in Mary’s arms, and it was all he could do not to grimace with distaste. The girl was eleven months old now. Her hair was black, like her mother’s, her skin was a deep tawny brown. When her eyelids fluttered open, he saw that her eyes were a dark blue-gray. He had never thought of Katherine as his daughter.

“How are you, Frank?” Mary asked.

“Fine, just fine.” He motioned to one of the porters. “These two bags, please,” he said curtly, and taking Mary by the arm, he led her to a shiny black carriage. A pair of matched gray geldings stood in the traces, a Negro in dark-blue livery held the reins.

With a great show of affection, Frank helped Mary into the carriage, stepped in beside her, and closed the carriage door.

Mary leaned back in the plush green velvet seat. She had known that Frank was rich, but she had never given it much thought until now. He reeked of money. The carriage was new, obviously the best that money could buy. The horses were well-bred, so perfectly matched they might have been twins, though twin horses were rare. Frank’s suit had been tailored especially for him, and it fit like a glove. His boots were of the finest Moroccan leather. A large diamond stickpin sparkled in his cravat.

He chatted amiably as they drove through town toward home, telling her about his parents’ new house, about dining with Diamond Jim Brady, about the latest play he had financed. Oh, yes, and he had planned a party to welcome her home. Everyone who was anyone in Chicago had been invited.

Mary nodded and made all the proper replies, but inwardly she was wishing she had never left Bear Valley. As she looked around at the crowded city streets and saw the people bustling about, she was homesick for the peaceful beauty of the plains. Katherine jumped, startled, as a fire engine raced down the street, bells clanging wildly.

Mary gazed in awe at Frank’s new home. It was bigger and more elegant than anything she had ever seen. It was two stories high and sat on an enormous piece of ground. The house was stark white, trimmed with dark blue shutters. A profusion of flowers bordered the long driveway that led up to the house. Acres of neatly manicured lawn surrounded the house.

Inside, the rooms were ornate, elaborately decorated in rich mahogany and dark maroon velvet. Thick carpets covered the floors. Heavy paper covered the walls. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings. Mary counted six bedrooms, a sitting room, a parlor, a conservatory, a large dining room, a spacious kitchen and pantry, a ballroom decorated with crystal and gilt-edged mirrors. There was a music room, a library filled with books, and a den stocked with a supply of good whiskey and Kentucky bourbon. A nursery, complete with a crib and rocking chair and a variety of toys, adjoined Mary’s room.

“It’s lovely, Frank,” Mary murmured, a little overwhelmed by the luxury of her surroundings. “Just lovely.”

Frank smiled, pleased. He had spared no expense in building this house. He was a wealthy man now, and he wanted everyone to know it.

After a tour of the house, Frank introduced Mary to the servants. There was Manly, the butler; Anna, the maid; Dulcie, the cook; Marta, the housekeeper; George, the valet, and Mrs. Anderson, the nanny Frank had hired to look after Katherine. In addition there were several men who worked outside, looking after the grounds and tending the horses.