Thunder on the Plains (26 page)

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Authors: Rosanne Bittner

BOOK: Thunder on the Plains
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“My God,” Sunny said in a near whisper. “It's Colt!”

Chapter 14

“What the hell?” Blaine's eyes widened with instant jealousy combined with embarrassment when Sunny suddenly handed him her wineglass and rushed over to the man standing at the entrance to the dining hall. He watched her eagerly take his hand, and everyone else in the room turned to stare in surprise.

“Colt!” Sunny exclaimed, her heart pounding with joy and excitement. “Is it really you? I can't believe my eyes! Where have you been? What brings you to Chicago?”

He squeezed her hand. “Hello, Sunny.” Colt was surprised at how he felt at finally seeing her again—warm, even a little shaken. He had no doubt that she would be beautiful, but this was more than he had expected. He studied the eyes that he had forgotten were so intensely blue, and he saw no disappointment or embarrassment there, only a great joy at seeing him. “Why I'm here is a long story, but I should have warned you. I guess I came at a bad time.”

Sunny looked him over, as surprised by how she felt as Colt was, both of them struggling to hide their true feelings. She in turn had not pictured him quite like this—even more handsome, the fullness of a man to him. In those gentle hazel eyes she could see beyond the momentary joy, could see the tragedy in his life. Where had he gotten the scar over his eye?

“There could never be a bad time for you to come and see me, Colt,” she answered, feeling suddenly too warm. “I just—I'm so surprised! This is wonderful! Just wonderful!”

Colt glanced around the room, beginning to feel uncomfortable under the critical stares of Sunny's well-to-do guests. “I, uh, I really do think I should come back. I came only to let you know I was here and to arrange a time to come back when you're not so involved.” Why was it so hard to let go of her hand?

“After all these years, and as elusive as you are? I'll not let you out of my sight for one minute!” Sunny declared. She gave him that smile he remembered, the one that made her look so delicious. She kept hold of his hand and walked closer to the huge table, tugging him along. Blaine and Vince both watched in horror as Sunny seemed to lose all composure. “Everyone! This is someone you
must
meet! This is—”

“Colt! Colt Travis!” Stuart had reentered the dining hall after giving some instructions to the cooks. “My God, man, is it really you?” He walked up to Colt, beaming. He put out his hand.

Colt finally let go of Sunny in order to shake hands with her brother. “Hello, Stuart.”

“By God, it's good to see you! What on earth are you doing in a place like Chicago?”

Vince moved closer to Eve, his face deep red with anger. “I can just imagine what he's doing here,” he muttered to his wife.

“Yes. So can I,” Eve answered, raising her chin slightly to give Colt a haughty, defensive stare. “Look at him, how he's dressed. He's dangerous. He's probably never carried more than ten dollars on him his whole life.”

Others whispered among themselves as Colt and Stuart talked, and Blaine struggled to keep calm and act as though the intrusion was really nothing. He headed over to Sunny.

“I've signed up for the Union Army,” Colt was telling Stuart.

“The army!” Sunny could not hide her disappointment and fear. “Why!”

“A Texan fighting for the Union?” Stuart grinned. “Well, you never were one to do the expected.”

Colt grinned a little. “I have my reasons.”

“Well, Sunny, how about a more formal introduction for the rest of us?” Blaine put on his best smile and placed his hands on Sunny's bare shoulders, a possessive gesture Colt did not miss when he turned to greet the tall, handsome man who had spoken. Blaine reached across Sunny's shoulder and held out his hand. “Blaine O'Brien. Sunny and I are, well, close to being married, I guess you'd say.”

Colt read the animosity in the man's eyes, wondering what “close to being married” meant. He had not actually said Sunny was his fiancée. “Colt Travis,” he answered. “Sunny has no doubt told you about me.” He did not miss the meaning of the way O'Brien squeezed his hand a little more firmly than necessary.

“And how soon will you be joining the army?” Blaine asked, putting his hand back on Sunny's shoulder.

Colt watched his dark eyes
. The sooner the better as far as you're concerned, I'll bet
, he thought. “Tomorrow.” He saw the relief in O'Brien's eyes.

“Oh, Colt, so soon?” Sunny took his hand again, and Colt noticed she wore no engagement ring. In spite of the fact that he had no romantic notions about her, he could not help feeling protective, and a surprising jealousy at the way Blaine O'Brien touched those bare, milky-white shoulders; nor could he help another glance at the full, firm breasts that were teasingly exposed by the cut of her dress. He had never seen such a beautiful gown, or such smooth, unblemished skin. And he had certainly never seen so many glittering diamonds.

“No sense putting it off,” he told her. Was that really fear and concern he saw in her eyes? Sunny kept hold of his hand and led him away, leaving Blaine standing alone and again struggling with his anger.

Sunny walked closer to Vi then. “Vi—everyone—this is Colt Travis, as all of you know by now,” she announced. “Colt was our scout when Father and I went out west five years ago. You should know that this man saved my life—more than once.” Most everyone smiled and nodded their greetings, murmuring and staring. Colt could almost hear the unspoken remarks and began feeling more uncomfortable by the minute. “Colt, this is Violet, Stuart's wife, and a dear friend.”

Colt shook Vi's hand, seeing in her eyes a true joy at meeting him.

“Sunny has told me so much about you,” she said. “Apparently, without you Sunny wouldn't be with us at all.” Vi glanced at Sunny, realizing she had never seen her look so totally happy and enraptured as at that moment. Sunny again took hold of Colt's hand, as though she were afraid he would bolt and run at any moment. She led Colt around the room, which was so big that the voices echoed against the high walls decorated with expensive paintings. “This is my tutor, Hannah Seymour,” Sunny was saying. “I'm studying German and French. We expect to have a lot of foreign investment in the Union Pacific, and I think I should know some foreign languages…This is Ted Regis, and his fiancée, Naomi West. Ted's father is Harold Regis, owner of the biggest bank in Chicago—oh, this is Harold right here.”

In spite of its size, Colt felt the room closing in around him. He was introduced to bankers, lawyers, doctors, industrialists, and even a senator. He was meeting some of the wealthiest people in the country, some of whom, including Sunny, were even well acquainted with the president of the United States. He sensed a genuine welcome from only a few of them, knew exactly what the rest were thinking when they looked him over with those judgmental eyes. He hated their limp handshakes and condescending smiles, and he suspected that some of them could be as vicious as the worst outlaw or Indian, except that they did not deal their blows physically. They did their back-stabbing and scalping in other ways.

“And this is my brother Vince and his wife, Eve,” Sunny was saying.

“Well, the famous Colt Travis,” Vince said. He did not offer his hand. “We've heard a lot about you, most of it like something out of a dime novel, I must say. According to Sunny, you are nothing short of a hero, but then, that was a long time ago, wasn't it? And Sunny was such a young thing.” He looked Colt over as though there were something reprehensible about him. “And now here you are, just an ‘old friend,' right?”

Colt held his eyes, understanding now the kind of hell Sunny must have been through with this man as an enemy. Vince was big and arrogant, and apparently capable of being very rude. He knew exactly what the man was thinking. “Right,” he answered. “Just an old friend. I guess I can thank you for instigating the letters between me and Sunny. Your lawsuit against Sunny made the Omaha newspaper. That's how I found out your father had died. I decided to write Sunny and tell her how sorry I was about her loss—and her troubles,” he added with a menacing glare. In spite of having just met the rather infamous Vince Landers and realizing none of what had happened was any of his business, he could not help an instant dislike of the man for the way he had treated Sunny. He wondered at these ridiculous protective feelings as if he were suddenly again responsible for Sunny's safety.

Sunny anxiously watched the two men stare at each other, fearful of what Vince would say next, rejoicing inside at Colt's clever rebuff. Vince moved his gaze to her then. “You remember some of the things I told you.” He glanced past her. “Blaine is waiting for you, and he doesn't look too happy. Don't shame yourself, Sunny.” He took Eve's arm and walked off to greet someone else.

Sunny watched after him, and Colt saw her stiffen and raise her chin. She looked up at him apologetically. “I'm sorry. I don't even know why I invited him tonight. I guess I just thought that because he's my brother it was the right thing to do. I'm sure he accepted the invitation only to make himself look good in front of all the other important people here tonight.”

Colt glanced over to watch Vince laughing and shaking hands with the senator. “Now that I've met him, I can't help thinking you're some woman, Sunny. He must have put you through hell.”

She stopped a servant carrying a tray of filled wineglasses and took two, handing one to Colt. “It's over now. I've handled all of it the best I can.” She took his arm and put on a smile. “And I feel only pride at having you here. Don't listen to anything Vince says. Let's get back to the table. You are staying and eating with us, and I won't take no for an answer.” She led him to the chair at her right hand and ordered a servant to set an extra place at the other end of the table and rearrange the seating.

Blaine managed to continue to check his own rage when he saw Sunny offer Colt the place that was supposed to be his.
Audacious
son of a bitch!
he fumed inwardly. Men like Colt Travis didn't deserve to be at such an elegant gathering, let alone sit at the right hand of someone as important as Sunny. He forced himself to keep a friendly look on his face as he moved around to the first seating on Sunny's left. The waiter hurriedly readjusted the white and gold lace-trimmed seating cards, and guests began gathering at their proper places, but remained standing as Sunny raised her wineglass for a toast.

“I want to tell all of you that this is the most wonderful moment of my life,” she said. “I only wish Daddy—my father—could be here.” She blinked back tears and took a deep breath. “I planned this dinner party to celebrate the passing of the railroad act—the beginning of the realization of a grand dream, begun by men like Dr. Durant, and my father. All of you know I intend to carry on that dream and will be leaving for Omaha very soon.” She glanced at Colt again, and both of them felt the irony of their situation, at the same time wondering at the painful nostalgia that had engulfed them the moment they set eyes on each other. “This celebration has taken a new twist,” she continued, again scanning the fifty-four people who stood at their places, smiling and listening. Colt could not help wondering how many of them would disappear from Sunny's life if she suddenly lost all her money. “Now we can also welcome a man deserving of our friendship and praise,” she was saying. “If any of you has ever wanted to meet a real hunter and scout from the Wild West, he is standing right next to me. Colt saved me from a buffalo stampede, from outlaws who threatened my person and my father's life; and it was his quick thinking that saved me from an infection that could have caused me to lose my leg, maybe even my life.”

Colt felt a warmth in his cheeks at the praise, a little embarrassed. He grinned and shook his head as remarks of “good man” and “well done” moved around the table.

“Colt is an honest-to-goodness scout and Indian fighter,” Sunny went on. “He has led wagon trains and hunted buffalo. When we first met him he was only twenty, and he had already been to Oregon and California several times. When we were corresponding, he was riding for the Pony Express; and more recently, he lived among the Cheyenne, who had saved his life.” There came a few gasps and intense stares that made Colt want to disappear.

“Not so unusual, considering he's half Indian himself,” Vince added. It was obvious to everyone that Vince was already feeling his wine, that he had been drinking before he arrived. “Tell the gentlefolks here, Mr. Travis—how many Indians and, uh, outlaws, have you killed? Do you prefer to knife them or shoot them, or what?”

The table quieted, and Sunny paled, her eyes widening with rage. “Vince!”

“Well, hell, if he's such a hero, we'd like to hear all the gory details. After all, none of us has ever been exposed to that barbaric kind of life. It's quite a thrill to hear about it. Imagine, having a near savage at our very table. Tell us, Mr. Travis, have you ever taken scalps?”

Colt's eyes bore into the man, all gentleness gone. The room hung so silent, people could hear one another breathing. Everyone stared at Colt, some feeling sorry for him, others feeling near fear at the wildness about him, and the look he was giving Vince that very moment.

“Yes, if you want the truth,” Colt finally answered, his voice low and firm. “I've taken scalps—Pawnee. They raped and murdered my wife and smashed in the head of my four-month-old son. Things like that can make a man do a lot of things he wouldn't normally do.”

Gasps and whispers moved around the table, and Sunny's eyes stung with tears of sorrow for Colt, and rage at Vince. Vince reddened with embarrassment but refused to show any remorse for his remark.

Colt's jaw flexed in anger. He fixed his gaze on Vince a moment longer, then glanced at Blaine O'Brien, still seeing the challenge and contempt in the man's eyes. He felt it was Blaine's place to step in for Sunny in some kind of word or deed that would help her through this awkward moment, but it was obvious Blaine was as eager for Colt to look bad in front of Sunny and the others as Vince was. What kind of people were these vultures that surrounded Sunny? No one said a word.

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