Desert Fire

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Desert Fire Page 8

by Marcia Lynn McClure


  “Sorry. What are you lookin’ for?” he asked, coming to stand beside her and looking down into the box.

  “A hammer. There’s a nail out of one of the kitchen chairs and your mama wants to fix it.”

  Jackson put down the brush he’d been using on Bill and began digging in the box. Malaina noticed that he was, once again, without a shirt.

  “It’s freezing out here, Jackson! How can you run around half dressed like that.”

  He chuckled. “I ain’t a bit cold. I hope you start gettin’ a little more used to this weather. It gets ten times worse than this, darlin’.”

  Malaina shivered involuntarily. “Really?” she asked. The thought was not at all comforting. “Well, you should put some clothes on anyway,” she stated as he stood handing her a hammer.

  “Why?” he asked with his sly grin spreading across his lips.

  “It’s indecent. That’s why. Have you not one shred of modesty in your being, Jackson?” she answered.

  “Not a shred,” he whispered.

  “I think you do it to show off,” she mumbled to herself.

  “You do?” he asked, raising his eyebrows as his smile broadened. He took a step toward her and she stepped backward bumping up against the barn wall.

  “Yes,” she answered, trying to appear unrattled. He put one hand against the wall behind her and leaned close to her face.

  “Why do you think that I’m showin’ off when I work without a shirt on, Malaina?” he asked almost in a whisper.

  She opened her mouth to answer but none came.

  “What, exactly, do you think I’m tryin’ to show off?”

  “Your...Your...” she stammered.

  He raised his eyebrows. “My what?”

  She gritted her teeth and took a deep breath. “Yourself!” she answered.

  He chuckled and put the other hand on the wall. “You mean, my body. Is that what you mean?”

  She felt herself begin to blush and was horrified that she should.

  “It sure ruffles your feathers whenever we get on this here subject, girl,” Jackson said, still smiling slyly at her and moving closer.

  “We have a name for men like you where I come from,” she told him, blushing a deeper crimson.

  “Really?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “And what would that word be, Malaina? Rounder? Cad? Or maybe it’s more like the perfect lover.”

  Her eyes widened at his conceit. “You are impossible!” she exclaimed.

  He chuckled and moved so close to her that she felt the warmth of his breath on her forehead. “Why don’t you try me out and see for yourself,” he mumbled, taking her by the shoulders and locking eyes with her.

  “You’re a beast!” she scolded, though it came out in more of a whisper than mean and harsh as she had meant it to sound.

  “I’m callin’ in your debt now, Miss Malaina. Here and now,” he whispered just before he kissed her.

  Malaina struggled for a split second, but as the feel of his sensual mouth on hers engulfed her, she was swept away. It lasted only a few seconds, but it was long enough to prove to her that he had been right about himself. It took every bit of restraint in her being for her not to wrap her arms around his magnificent form and passionately return his kiss. When he broke the kiss, she glanced up at him and then away quickly.

  “You’re a shameless flirt,” she whispered as she moved past him.

  “Not really,” he said, picking up a pitchfork and giving the cow some hay. “You’re just so funny when you’re embarrassed that I can’t help it.” She heard him chuckling as she walked quickly toward the house.

  

  “It must really be nippy out there. You’re as red as a beet!” Maggie said as Malaina entered kitchen.

  Actually she felt a little too warm. “Yes. I guess I’m not used to this cool weather.”

  Maggie smiled as Malaina handed her the hammer.

  “I’ve just now remembered where I put that lace that I thought might look nice on the collar of your dress, love,” Maggie said, sitting down on the floor and preparing to fix the chair. “Now, up in the attic there’s a whole load of mess, so watch your step. There’s four or five trunks up against one wall and I think I laid that lace in the top one. Go have a look will you? It’s white with a pretty design woven in. Run along now.”

  Malaina smiled as she pulled down the ladder to the attic and began climbing.

  The attic was stuffy and she was glad she’d brought a lamp with her because it was pitch dark inside now that the sun had set. She began looking around.

  “Mess?” she spoke out loud. “Treasure!”

  There were old harnesses, an old dress form in one corner, and other wonderful things piled around. She quickly spotted the trunks up against the wall and went over eagerly. They weren’t, however, piled up the way Maggie had described, but rather all of them were sitting on the floor. She shrugged her shoulders and opened one.

  It wasn’t the correct trunk, obviously, but her curiosity was peaked as she spied a uniform of some sort lying in it. She lifted it slightly. It was familiar. Not Confederate or Northern from the war, but still very familiar. A photograph fell out of the folds and as she held it up she recognized the uniform worn by the man in the photograph.

  “West Point?” she muttered as she stared down at the handsome face of Baker dressed in the uniform and standing in front of the sign that greeted all visitors to the institution. How dashing he looked! She couldn’t resist looking deeper into the trunk. Below the uniform was another photograph. A very large one, and she knew at once that this was his wedding photo.

  Baker looked so handsome dressed formally. Next to him stood Elizabeth. She had been a unique beauty, just as he had described her. They looked so blissful and Malaina felt as if something had pierced her heart. She quickly replaced everything and shut the trunk. She dusted the top off to reveal a brass nameplate and read, “Baker Robert McCall.”

  She moved to the next trunk and dusted the nameplate. “Matthew Robert McCall.” And the next. “Jackson Robert McCall. All named after their daddy, Robert,” she said to herself. Jackson’s trunk was locked. She wondered what secrets it held.

  The next trunk looked much older and much more worn. She dusted it off. Instead of a fancy nameplate, the name was carved into the wood. “Robert Jackson McCall,” she read and she knew that she dared not open it.

  Malaina moved to another trunk and lifted the lid. Sure enough, the lace was there. She quickly grabbed it, shut the trunk and hurried down the ladder. She felt as if she’d been eavesdropping somehow.

  “Did you find it?” Maggie called from the kitchen.

  “Oh, yes! It’s lovely, Mrs. McCall. I can’t possibly use this! It’s just too lovely.” Malaina exclaimed.

  She entered the kitchen to find the three men and their mother sitting at the table waiting for her. How long had she been up there?

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea we were this close to dinner,” she said, taking her seat. Her confidence had returned and she smiled sarcastically at Jackson and said, “I’m glad you decided to actually dress before dinner.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes. “Jackson McCall! It is entirely too cold to be working without a shirt now. And I want you to start wearing your long johns!”

  Jackson smiled at his mother. “Better watch your backs boys. Little Miss Proper Pants is a tattler.”

  “Jackson!” his mother scolded, trying to hold back a snicker.

  Baker started the dinner conversation. “I saw horse tracks out by the north pasture today. Ten riders, I’d say. Unshod.”

  Matthew and Jackson looked at their brother and all smiles faded.

  “It’s gettin’ colder...they’re hungry,” Matthew said.

  “I’m sure they’re hungry all right. But I’m wonderin’ what for,” Baker said directly to Jackson.

  “Quit talkin’ over my head boys. Is it Black Wolf?” Maggie asked and Malaina felt as if her blood had turned to ice.

&n
bsp; “Can’t think of any other ten unshod ponies ‘round here, Mama,” Baker said. “Don’t worry, though. As long as it’s the cattle their eyein’ up I ain’t worried.”

  They all looked at Malaina suddenly. “What? What are you lookin’ at me for?” she asked, beginning to shiver.

  “Did Mary come visit today?” Matthew asked changing the subject.

  “No,” Malaina said flatly.

  “You girls only got a couple of days to finish them new duds. I thought you’d be sewin’ your little fingers blue by now,” he said.

  “We’re nearly finished,” Malaina commented, still preoccupied by the previous conversation.

  “Well, I can’t wait for that dance!” Baker said smiling. “It’s been a long time since we done anything sociable around here.”

  “Dang right,” Jackson said. “I saw that little Justine Smithe in town last week. She sure turned out purty.”

  Malaina looked at him quickly and then away.

  “Here we go,” Maggie said. “Sizin’ up the goods already,” she giggled.

  “Well, you want grandbabies before you’re a hunderd don’t you, Mama?” Baker asked.

  “Oh, yes!” she answered.

  Malaina was feeling nauseated. She hadn’t considered that Jackson might be flirting with other women there.

  “Ol’ Jackson better beware this year, Mama. I heard that the Widow Thompson still has her eyes on him,” Matthew said, laughing.

  “Older women is like fine wine, little brother. Better and better with age,” Jackson said.

  “How would you know, Jack? You ain’t never had fine wine,” Baker teased.

  Everyone laughed and Malaina even managed a smile.

  Baker continued, “Well, I got my eye on that little Susan Adams. She’s got that purty auburn hair and her eyes are matchin’.”

  “Oh, she is lovely!” Maggie added.

  “Well, I know little brother Matt here will have his hands full enough with our own Mary...so who is gonna chaperon Malaina?” Baker asked.

  “I don’t need a chaperon,” she stated.

  They all looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

  “You most certainly do!” Maggie exclaimed.

  “The men ‘round here ain’t much on manners and the proper ways...as you well know, darlin’,” Jackson said with a wink.

  “Well, as you know, Jackson...I am most certainly aware of that. And I still don’t need a chaperon.”

  “She thinks I’m a neked barbarian, boys. She caught me with my pants down today...well, actually with my shirt off...and then she went on in here and told Mama,” Jackson said.

  “That does seem to upset her every time, don’t it,” Matthew snickered.

  “It’s a good thing it weren’t with your pants down, I guess,” Baker said and as they busted into laughter Maggie scolded.

  “All right, boys! That’s enough. You quit your teasin’! Just ‘cause Malaina has some modesty don’t mean you can give her grief about it every day of the week. I’ll keep Malaina company if and when she ever has time on her hands. I’m sure those young men in town will snatch her clean away from us.”

  Jackson snickered. “Naw. She won’t like any of them boys. They’ll all be wearin’ shirts.” Maggie sighed in exasperation as the three boys broke into peels of laughter.

  Even Malaina had to laugh at their teasin’. They all cared for her in some way, she knew. Even Jackson. Otherwise he wouldn’t tease her all the time the way he did.

  

  Two days before the dance Mary and Malaina were in the north pasture. “Well, you got waltzin’ down perfect. I guess you all waltz down south at least. But you still haven’t got any reels or anything. So, let’s get started,” Mary said.

  Malaina had awakened in the night several days before realizing that dancing out west might be very different than dancing in the south. So she had asked Mary about it and found that the assumption was, indeed, correct. As a result, Mary and Malaina had been sneaking off to the north pasture and practicing.

  “I don’t know what the point is anyway, Mary. I don’t know anyone here. I’ll just be the perfect example of a wallflower, I’m sure,” Malaina commented.

  “Don’t be silly, Malaina! I swear all the men in town take to droolin’ like dogs whenever you’re around. Let’s try the two-step. We do it more than waltzin’ anyway.”

  Malaina found it very easy to learn. It was similar to the waltz and the gentleman held you the same way. As they practiced they talked.

  “You mean the women don’t wear gloves when?” Malaina asked in surprise.

  “Of course not, Malaina,” Mary sighed. “You actually have to put your bare hand in his bare hand,” she mocked.

  “Well,” Malaina began again, “does the gentleman at least put a handkerchief between his hand and your waist?”

  Mary laughed and Malaina spun around when she heard Jackson laughing as well. There he stood, in the cool October weather wearing boots, pants, a hat, well-worn gloves--and no shirt.

  “You beat all, girl. I swear,” he said.

  “What are you laughing at, Jackson? It’s the proper way,” she told him.

  Jackson took Mary in traditional waltzing form. “Not out here it ain’t, Malaina. Looky here! Mary’s dancin’ with a half neked man and he ain’t got a hanky at her waist.” Mary and Jackson began laughing so hard that they doubled over.

  “You are impossible!” Malaina giggled. It probably did seem rather outlandish to them.

  “Now come here. I’ll teach you dancin’,” Jackson said, motioning to her to join him. Malaina shook her head slightly and stepped back. It would be too much! Too close to him. He’d sense how she felt about him. She was sure.

  “Oh, go on, Malaina. I get mixed up trying to lead,” Mary said as Jackson removed his gloves and threw them aside, motioning to her again.

  “Chicken?” he teased. And with that she placed her hand in his. He tipped his hat back, put his other hand at her waist pulling her against him.

  “This close?” she asked shocked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said smiling. “But only with me.”

  Mary giggled. As Jackson began to lead Malaina in an instructive two-step, Mary counted.

  This was indecent! Malaina could feel the muscles in his thighs against her own, her chest was flush with his.

  “This isn’t proper, Jackson!” she exclaimed, trying to pull away.

  “You gotta feel where I’m leading you, Malaina,” he chuckled.

  “Oh, believe me, I feel where you’re leading me, Mr. McCall. Does the word corruption ring a bell?” she said nervously.

  Mary giggled.

  “Oh relax, Malaina. Mary’s standin’ right there. I ain’t gonna do nothin’ improper,” he said. And in a few moments when she had mastered the step, he did, indeed, hold her out away from him a bit.

  “Of course, the other men at the dance will have their shirts on...so it may not be as fun as it was with me,” he teased.

  She shoved him away. “You’re horrid,” she said, turning and stomping away. “Let me know when you’re finished being corrupted, Mary, and we’ll talk,” she called back over her shoulder.

  “I’m comin’ too, Malaina,” Mary said, waving to Jackson and catching up to her.

  “He is impossible,” Malaina sighed.

  Mary smiled. “He makes people laugh, and feel special and happy,” Mary said.

  Malaina smiled. “Yes. He does,” she had to agree.

  

  That night when they all sat down at dinner, the boys were trying to control their snickering.

  “All right,” Maggie said at last. “What is it?”

  “Jackson and Malaina were dancin’ out in the north pasture half naked today, Mama,” Matthew said and they all broke into laughter.

  Maggie looked at Malaina who had gone white. “Boys tease, darlin’. Just let it roll like water off a duck and you’ll be fine. Now, you boys act your age. Poor girl is gonna be hal
f mad before you’re done with her. And Jackson...you start wearin’ your shirt! It’s nearly winter out there.”

  “Yes, Mama,” he answered when he could at last take a breath.

  5

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Malaina felt as if she’d swallowed a cavern full of bats as they drove to the dance through the cool October evening. It was so delighful, though. Like a dream! Every time they passed a neighboring farm, the family would fall in line behind the others and everyone joined in singing songs together all the way to town. It was a safe, friendly feeling and Malaina reveled in it. Matthew had taken a separate cart, because he was escorting Mary and her parents. But Malaina road in the back of the buggy with Baker, while Jackson and Maggie were in front.

  The barn on the Smithe ranch was decorated with shining Jack-O-Lanterns, scarecrows and other harvest type things. Several men were standing on a bunch of wooden crates that had been pushed together playing fiddles and other instruments. One man was even blowing on a jug. Malaina thought it very odd.

  People were already dancing and Baker led Malaina to the floor. She was overcome with nerves for a moment until she realized that everyone was simply having a good time. Most of the men looked like monkeys jumping around or were as awkward as Ol’ Root would be dancing. Baker, however, was a very proficient dance partner and made her feel more relaxed. Soon she was laughing and feeling as if she never wanted to leave.

  The punch and refreshments were delicious and Malaina found many familiar faces to chat with. The only things that dampened her spirits were the moments when she would see Jackson smiling charmingly down into the face of an adoring, lovely girl. Once he caught her staring at him and winked at her. She turned away quickly, mortified. She caught bits and pieces of conversation among the women and girls and the subject always seemed to be the McCall boys, especially Jackson.

  One older woman was flirting shamelessly with Jackson and Malaina summized that this must be the Widow Thompson. He was as polite and charming with her as he was with the others. He hadn’t once asked Malaina to dance after an hour and she felt as if she’d been slapped in the face. She was sure that she was the only one he hadn’t danced with.

 

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