Wild Rain

by Beverly Jenkins

  He whispered, “Oh, Spring.”

  She wasn’t done. “And Mitch let Matt have me when he wanted to. He enjoyed using his fists.”

  He looked stunned.

  “So don’t ask me to forgive Ben because I can’t.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you.” The sorrow in his voice made her heart ache.

  “I don’t hold any of this against you, Colton. Please don’t think I do. None of it was your fault.”

  “But—I didn’t know, Spring. I’m so sorry.”

  She was, too. “Go home,” she urged softly. “Give my love to Regan and the children.”

  He rose to his feet but appeared to be searching for a way to offer comfort, so she responded with as much sincerity as she could muster. “I’m fine. Been fine for fifteen years. Don’t worry about me.”

  He didn’t appear convinced.

  “I’m fine,” she echoed. “Go home.”

  He studied her for a long moment, then turned and left.

  In the silence that followed, she heard Garrett quietly step out onto the porch behind her. Fighting her anger and pain, she stood and without turning his way, said, “I’m going for a ride. I’ll be back later.”

  She didn’t bother with a saddle. Fitting Cheyenne with a war bridle, she mounted and gave him his head as they galloped away. They finally stopped at a grassy ridge high above the Paradise River, where Spring watched a mama bear and two frolicking cubs take drinks from the water before moving on. An osprey swooped down and grabbed up a fish, and with outstretched wings flapping powerfully, headed back to its nest.

  The evening was peaceful, and the quiet surroundings helped soothe her roiled emotions. She’d been coming to this spot since being old enough to ride alone. The first time, she’d been maybe ten summers. Although she had no memory of what sparked that visit, she did remember others: mourning her mother’s death, nursing the sadness of Colt’s leaving home to attend Howard Medical School. It was here that she’d wrestled with how to get around Ben’s intractable decision to marry her off, and where the idea came to her to approach Mitch Ketchum about a job.

  She glanced over at Cheyenne feeding on the thick grass and thought back on the different mounts she’d ridden here: a mare named Miss Lizzie, a gelding she’d called Fred, and a filly she’d named Cat’s Paw for her white pawlike blaze. So many visits over so many years, and here she sat again.

  She knew her revelations to Colt had left him reeling. She hadn’t relished causing him so much distress, but he needed to know what she’d faced. For years she wanted to tell him the full story, but the time never seemed right, and coming up with the words had always been beyond her. Now that he was aware, she hoped he better understood why she’d been so wild and reckless when he’d returned to town after his studies back East. Making her body available to Mitch Ketchum killed the young girl their parents had raised, transforming her into a woman who’d felt dead inside, and as a result, every morning, whether rising from her own bunk or a Ketchum’s bed, she’d cursed her grandfather.

  Down at the river, a small group of elk strode majestically out of the trees. They stopped to scan for danger before lowering their heads to drink. She wondered if they knew how she was supposed to find it in herself to forgive Ben. News that he was facing death didn’t bring joy. She’d always believed he’d live forever. And yet, as she’d noted before, long-buried parts of herself still loved him, and she’d mourn his loss. She just wished he’d loved her as much as she had him.

  It was dark when she finally rode home. Garrett had left a lamp on in the front room. She extinguished it and headed down the dark hallway to her room. There was a sliver of light beneath his closed door and she supposed he was up reading while waiting for her return. Due to his healing she’d been sleeping in her own room, but tonight she put on her nightgown and went to his. Entering, she saw his surprise and concern as he viewed her in the doorway and set his book aside. Without a word, she crawled into bed beside him and nestled herself gently against his warm length. He draped an arm over her, placed a soft kiss on her brow that almost made her weep, and doused the lamp.

  When Garrett awakened the next morning, he was surprised to find Spring still asleep beside him. Usually after spending the night together she was up and gone before he opened his eyes. He’d been concerned about her when she’d taken off on her stallion yesterday, and wondered if her flight had been tied to the conversation she’d had with her brother. Once the sun set and she still hadn’t returned, his concern grew. Reminding himself that she didn’t need a keeper, he’d settled into bed with his book on Douglass, and forced himself to read. However, as darkness descended, her whereabouts remained foremost in his mind, along with his worries. Then she appeared in the doorway, dressed in her nightgown, eyes filled with an anguish she’d never displayed before, and he didn’t know what to say or do. As she wordlessly slipped into bed with him, he instinctively knew not to pester her with questions. Sorting out the cause of her distress could be dealt with later. He simply held her close until she fell asleep.

  And now her eyes were open and holding his. “Good morning,” he said.

  “Morning,” she replied. She sat up and brushed the hair loosened from her braid by sleep away from her face.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “Better.” And added in a tone filled with sincerity, “Thank you.”

  He didn’t pretend not knowing what she was referencing. “That’s what partners are for.”

  A small smile curved her lips before she said gravely, “My grandfather is dying.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I am, too. My brother wants me to forgive him for all he did.”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  “Even if I wanted to forgive him, I don’t know how.”

  “Is that why you took off?”

  She nodded. He sensed her sorting through her thoughts, so he remained silent and waited for her to speak again.

  “I’ve shared bits and pieces with you of what happened back then. Can I tell you the whole story?”

  “If it will help.”

  So he listened while she told him everything: what she’d sacrificed to work for Mitch Ketchum, how she’d felt inside, and when she finished her story, he understood. He now had the details he’d been missing; details the sheriff told him weeks ago that were only hers to give, and it left him angry. That she’d shared with him something so personal was also humbling.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Regan was the first person I told all this to. My brother didn’t know any of it until we talked yesterday. It hurt him a lot, but he needed to know why the idea of forgiving Ben isn’t so easy to do.”

  “Maybe now he has a better understanding.”

  “I’m sure he does, but it doesn’t resolve anything. If anything, Ben should be apologizing to me. I feel as if forgiving him makes me weak, because he’s still convinced he was right.”

  Garrett ran a comforting hand over her back. “No one will ever accuse you of being weak, Spring. You’re incredibly strong to have survived all that. Maybe it might help to look upon forgiving him as another way to show your strength.”

  “I suppose.” But she didn’t sound convinced.

  Honestly, were he in her shoes, he didn’t know if he’d be able to forgive Ben Lee, either.

  “What would you do?” she asked.

  “It would be hard for me to forgive him, too. Why does your brother think forgiveness is needed?”

  “For my peace of mind.”

  “But you don’t agree?”

  She dragged her hands down her face. “I don’t know. I don’t see how it will. I’ve pretty much resolved myself to what happened and tried to move on with my life.”

  He watched as she stared off into the distance. After a few more moments of silence he prodded gently, “What are you thinking?”

  “About Regan. When she was young, she and her sister were abandoned by thei
r mother. Her sister has never gotten over it, but Regan refuses to wallow. In a way I’ve bits of both feelings inside. Regan’s view is stronger though. Whether I forgive Ben or not won’t change my life. I just wish he’d loved me enough to have considered what I wanted. That he refused is the part I’ll probably never get over.” She quieted again, then said softly, “I’ve never talked to anyone like this before. Thank you.”

  He stroked her back again. “I simply listened.”

  She gave him a ghost of a smile. “One more thing you do well.”

  He took in the emotion in her eyes and his heart swelled with his love for her, and knowing it wasn’t reciprocated didn’t change things.

  She said, “I’d kiss you, but my mouth probably tastes like the road outside.”

  He chuckled and ran a finger down her cheek. “Mine is probably the same. You can give me one later.”

  “Deal,” she whispered. After sharing a last long look with him, she slowly scooted off the bed. “I’m going to wash up and start breakfast. Will flapjacks do you?”

  “With bacon?”

  “Always bacon.”

  “Then yes, flapjacks will do me.”

  She departed.

  Alone, Garrett thought back on the small moment they’d just shared. Listening to her bare her soul endeared her to him all the more. He just wished he could somehow shoulder her pain or come up with a solution that helped her with the issue of her grandfather, but neither were possible, mostly because she was accustomed to bearing her burdens alone. He wondered if it was her way of protecting the brokenhearted young girl still inside. He thought about the young boy he carried within himself who’d been shoeless, illiterate, and unaware that the color of his skin was the only reason for his poor station in life; a boy who’d had no dreams. Even now, after seeing the world, having read for the bar, and having the ability to make his own decisions about life, that boy would always remind him of a past he couldn’t change, and the quiet rage that still burned because of it.

  The flapjacks were made special by the addition to the batter of the last of the blackberries she’d frozen for the winter.

  “Where did you get the berries?” he asked as they ate at the table.

  “I have a few bushes on the far side of the horse barn. The thorns are awful, but they keep Paint from eating them, so they serve a purpose.”

  “He’s the Palomino?”

  “Yes. I haven’t introduced you yet, have I?”

  “No.”

  “Then let’s do that after we’re done here. If the cats are around, you can meet them, too.”

  He felt very special being given the opportunity to meet the members of her four-legged family, but the introductions were mixed. The playful Paint kept trying to knock him over. The mares, Sunshine and Lady, showed him a small amount of interest and took dried apples from his hand, but the stallion ignored him.

  “He ignores everybody,” Spring told him. “So don’t be offended.” She looked over at him. “Is the walking tiring you out?”

  “No. I’m not one hundred percent, but moving around feels okay.”

  “We’ll walk slow.”

  He appreciated her concern.

  The next stop was at the barn to meet the cats. The two older females chose not to make an appearance when called, but he did get to meet the kittens and learn their names.

  On their way back to the cabin, Odell drove up in his wagon. Garrett now enjoyed the old trapper’s visits due to the care he’d been shown after the attack. Odell got down and opened the gate on the wagon bed, calling, “Your ram’s ready, Spring!”

  Her face lit up and she ran to Odell’s side, leaving a confused Garrett behind. Following her to the wagon, he stopped and stared with more confusion at what Odell handed her. It was a tan-colored head of what looked like a sheep with two large curling horns. “What is that?” he asked.

  “A mountain goat!” she happily exclaimed, eyeing the thing as if it were made of gold. “Odell, you did a great job! Thank you!”

  “Is it a real animal?” Garrett asked.

  “Used to be before I stuffed him,” Odell replied with a smile. “He’s a youngster, though. The big males have horns twice this size. Maybe sometime soon we’ll take you up where you can see a herd for yourself.”

  Garrett thought he might enjoy that. It was certainly unlike any goat he’d ever seen.

  “I’m going to mount it above my fireplace,” Spring declared proudly.

  Garrett had noticed the stuffed animal heads on the wall of the telegraph office, but there hadn’t been anything like this one.

  Odell said to her, “Sorry it took me so long.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’m just pleased it’s done.”

  Odell climbed back up to the wagon. “Got some more deliveries to make.”

  Garrett asked, “Any word from my folks?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry, no. I’ll let you know when something comes. Promise.”

  Garrett swallowed his disappointment. “Thanks.”

  With a wave, he was gone.

  Spring said, “Going to hang this right now. Will you take it inside while I get some tools?”

  “Sure.”

  She handed it over and hurried to the barn. He stared down into the glass marble eyes, chuckled at the wonder of the things he’d learned since arriving in Paradise, and carried the goat head into the cabin.

  It only took her a short while to mount the thing, and once it was done, they stood back and admired Odell’s handiwork.

  She said, “It looks good there, don’t you think?”

  “I do.” Admittedly, he’d never considered a stuffed goat’s head as essential to a home’s decor but it seemed perfect for her cabin. “Where’d Odell get it?”

  “From me. I found the goat last autumn. Odell’s been working on getting it ready all winter. He likes taxidermy. Even goes to conventions occasionally so he can learn better techniques and talk to folks who love doing these things as much as he does.”

  Garrett was finding Odell to be a much more layered person than he’d thought when they first met the morning after the snowstorm.

  A knock on the door drew their attention. Spring went to answer it and returned with Ed Prescott. He and Garrett exchanged silent nods of greeting before Ed noticed the goat.

  “Odell finished it, I see. It looks fine up there, Spring.”

  “I think so, too. What brings you by?”

  “Hands brought in some new ponies and one of the mares is particularly ornery. Need your help calming her down.”

  “Is she broken yet?”

  “No.”

  Garrett listened while they discussed the mare’s size, breed, and how long she’d been in Ed’s corral.

  Once they were done, Spring said, “Let me get my gear and I’ll be there shortly.”

  “Thanks.” He turned to Garrett. “Good to see you’re healing up, McCray.”

  “Thanks.”

  After Ed’s departure, Spring said, “You’re welcome to come along if you want.”

  The idea of watching her work piqued his interest. “I’d like that.”

  “We may be there a few days, so bring along anything you might need. Ed won’t mind putting you up if we do need to stay. He has plenty of room.”

  “You’re sure? I don’t want to impose.”

  “You won’t be.”

  He had many questions about what taming a horse entailed but didn’t want to delay their leaving.

  As if having peeked inside his mind, she asked, “How many questions am I going to be peppered with about this?”

  He laughed. “You know me well.”

  “I’ve learned a thing or two about you.”

  “Like what?”

  She moved closer and draped her arms around his waist. Looking up, she said, “You’re a real good kisser.”

  “Am I?”

  “Another item on that list of things you do well.”

  Fueled by how much he adore
d her, he moved his mouth invitingly against hers. “You did promise me a kiss earlier if I remember correctly.”

  “And I always pay my debts.”

  As their lips met and her fiery sweetness spread through his blood, he wanted to be indebted to her forever, so as to spend the next three lifetimes kissing her, making love to her, and being awed by her strength and courage. She was passionate, brave, and would hold his heart forever.

  After a few more breath-robbing moments, she slowly drew back and looked up, eyes lidded with passion, and said, “We should stop. Otherwise, Ed won’t see us until tomorrow.”

  He agreed. In spite of his still-healing condition, the urge to take her into the bedroom and satisfy their mutual desire was strong. Instead, he leaned down to enjoy one last kiss. “I’ll get my things.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dressed in the leathers she always wore for horse breaking, Spring hitched Lady to the wagon and trailered her stallion and Paint to the bed. Sunrise didn’t like crowds, so Spring left her in her stall with enough food and water to last until she returned home. Once all the gear was loaded and she and Garrett took their seats on the leather bench, they got underway. It was a glorious late-afternoon day. The blue sky was dotted with a few puffy clouds, the spring vegetation was in full bloom, and the mountains stood strong and bright in the sunlight. She glanced Garrett’s way. He smiled and she replied in kind.

  “So how do you tame wild horses?” he asked.

  “Depends on the horse and who’s taming it. I try and determine who the animal is inside. Being ridden is not their natural state. Ed and I respect that and hope the horse will allow us that privilege. Easier said than done most times though. After being separated from their herd and penned in, many are angry and scared. People would be, too, in that situation, don’t you think?”