Before the Dawn

by Beverly Jenkins

She was surprised to feel nothing beneath her but a soft blanket. “Where’s the saddle?”

  “Cheyenne don’t need saddles to control their horses,” he pointed out succinctly. “Hold on so you don’t fall off.”

  Leah would much rather have nestled up to a thorny rosebush, but wrapping her arms around his waist, she did as she was told.

  “Closer,” he said.

  Behind him Leah snarled silently. She hiked her skirts up her thighs a bit, then moved until she was flush against his back. Once she was settled, he turned the horse’s head and they proceeded forward.

  Because of the woody terrain the horse couldn’t really travel any faster than Leah could have on foot. That distressed her because it meant it would be a while before she could turn Ryder loose. Her skin burned everywhere their bodies touched: her arms, her breasts, the insides of her upper thighs. A less hardy woman would have already swooned.

  Ryder admittedly liked the feel of her weight against him. Even as dirty and mussed as she was, he found pleasure in her holding him. In reality he should be lecturing her on her antics back there. One, she had no business prowling around alone, and two, she could have broken her leg or her fool neck sliding down those rocks like a ten-year-old boy. He’d been only a few yards away when he heard her screams pierce the forest’s silence, and he knew instantaneously that it was she. Filled with panic, he’d turned his stallion and picked his way through the trees as quickly as they could go. He’d been standing in the clearing trying to get a fix on her position when she landed at his feet like she’d been shot out of a cannon. Her sudden appearance had frozen him with his mouth open, and then to realize it was indeed she under all that mud and slime, it took all he had not to laugh out loud.

  He took a moment to look back at her, all but hidden behind him. “You play in the mud often?”

  Leah met his eyes and saw the humor there. “Only when I have the opportunity.”

  “You’re not going to be a conventional mistress, I’m thinking.”

  “Is that what I’m to be?”

  “Yes, unless you know a better term.”

  She did but none were very flattering however, so she said, “Mistress is fine, I suppose. I take it I’m not your first.”

  “No, but then neither am I yours.”

  Leah tightened.

  “Oh, stop acting so offended. I’m not your first, and you know it.”

  Leah told him, “Just pay attention to what you’re doing before you run the horse into a tree.”

  Ryder turned back again. “What are you so mad about?”

  “Nothing. I’m very happy being called a whore.”

  “No one called—”

  “You may as well have,” she responded frostily. “You’ve been looking down your kingly nose at me since the moment we met. I’m not some cheap dockside whore willing to be bedded for a few coins.” Leah didn’t realize how angry she’d become until she told him. “Stop this horse.”

  Ryder complied. Before he could turn around to see what she was about, she slid from the horse’s back and began to storm away; or at least she tried to. The uneven heel gave her a comical up-and-down gait that he had to keep from chuckling at.

  Leah knew it would probably take her a month to get back to the house walking this way, but she didn’t care. She uttered an unladylike curse. Damn him!

  “You know, it’s going to take you a while to get home in those shoes.”

  “Go away.”

  “Look, you’re going to make us both late for dinner.”

  Leah didn’t break stride.

  “Why don’t you tell me about yourself, and then I’ll know the truth.”

  “And give you more ammunition to shoot me down? We’ve already had this conversation on the train, remember? You’d formed your opinion back then.” She stopped and looked up at him. “You know nothing about me,” she whispered fiercely. “Nothing.”

  The emotion she displayed touched him. “You’re right. And if you say you didn’t marry Louis for his money, I believe you.”

  Leah shook her head, “This isn’t about what you believe. For the past few days you believed I was a whore. Surely you haven’t changed your mind that quickly.”

  His lips thinned. He didn’t like hearing himself described so accurately. Could he have been wrong about her, or was she just that good of an actress? “I’m sorry I offended you.”

  Leah kept walking.

  Still riding slowly beside her he said, “You’re determined to be stubborn.”

  “I’m determined I don’t like you, is all.”

  “Are you always so fiery?”

  “Only with ill-mannered men named Ryder Damien.”

  He looked up to the heavens for guidance. She was certainly giving him his comeuppance. The only person allowed to flay him this way was Sam, and now her. In truth, be she virgin or whore, he didn’t care as long as she agreed to be his. He sensed that he’d genuinely hurt her feelings, though, but was at a loss as to how to fix it. It wasn’t something he admitted easily. “I rarely apologize for something I’ve done, but I’m making an attempt now…”

  The quiet strength in his voice melted away some of her anger even as her mind fought against it. Unable to stop herself, she turned to face him. His dark eyes were open and sincere.

  Ryder extended his hand. A silent Leah looked at it a moment, then grabbed hold, and he pulled her back atop the horse’s back. They both knew the issue hadn’t been resolved and that there would be more confrontations just like this one, but for now they shared an unspoken determination to let it be.

  Sam was waiting outside the back door when they rode up. Leah didn’t want him to see the crossness in her face but he would have had to be blind not to.

  Sam’s face was concerned, “I see you two met up.”

  Leah slid down off the horse without waiting for assistance. “Yes, we did.”

  Sam’s eyes went wide as he took in the full effect of her appearance.” What happened to you?”

  Ryder drawled, “Playing in the mud.”

  “I was not,” she shot back.

  Sam was still staring at her as if she’d just been transformed into a frog, so Leah asked, “Where can I heat some water, I need to wash up before dinner.”

  “I’ll say you do,” Sam said in amazed tones. “Look at your hair.”

  “Sam,” Leah said warningly. “The water please.”

  “Sure, sure,” he replied. “But you’re not going inside in those muddy shoes. Take them off.”

  Leah cut him a look. Bobbing up and down on her uneven heels, she made her way over to the hitching post. Using it for balance, she removed the broken shoe and flung it to the heavens. After doing the same with its muddy mate, she stormed into the house in her stockinged feet.

  There was silence as the two men stared after her. Sam looked up at Ryder, and offered sagely, “She’s going to be a handful.”

  Ryder’s eyes glowed with excitement and challenge. “Yes, she is.”

  In her room, Leah paced while she waited for word on her water. Ryder’s smug words kept coming back to taunt her. She was almost looking forward to being in his bed just so she could watch him squirm when he realized she was a virgin and had to apologize.

  A knock on the door drew her attention. “Come in.”

  Sam took one look at the temper on her face, and scolded, “You save that glare for him, missy. I’m the one who made you chocolate cake for dessert.”

  Leah couldn’t keep her smile from peeking out. “I’m sorry. You’re not the one I should be snapping at.”

  “Made you mad, did he?”

  “Like a bunch of riled hornets.”

  Sam smiled. “Come on with me, and I’ll show you where you can wash.”

  Leah grabbed up a robe and followed him out.

  He led her down the hall and opened the door to a most amazing bathing room.

  She assumed all the pipes and spigots meant there was indoor plumbing, which was by no means co
mmon in the homes of the folks she knew back home. There was a shower also, and just when she got over the shock of that, she saw the large red-and-gold tub holding court on the far wall.

  Exotic didn’t come close as a description. Leah walked closer, drawn by the odd power it seemed to exude.

  “Ryder won it off a French count in a card game in San Francisco. Had to have it shipped home.”

  Leah couldn’t resist running a light hand over the gold fleur-de-lis curling up from the edge of each corner. “Does he ever use it?”

  “Rarely.”

  “May I sometimes?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  Leah looked around again at all the plumbing work. “Who did all this?”

  “He did. He’s an engineer, you know.”

  Leah was surprised. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yep. Got his college degree from a mining and engineering school in Minnesota. It’s where I met him.”

  Leah noted that Sam spoke of him with the pride and affection usually reserved for family. “You’re very proud of him, aren’t you?”

  He nodded. “I am. He’s made his own way, and had a big enough heart to invite me to come along. I never regretted saying yes.”

  Leah let the words sink in. Was he trying to tell her she hadn’t made a bad decision by agreeing to Ryder’s offer? Leah had no real way of knowing. What she did know was that she was beginning to itch from all the dirt and grime, and the sooner she washed, the better. After getting Sam to explain how the spigots worked, she shooed him out, threw the small brass bolt on the door, and stripped off her nasty clothes.

  She opted for a shower as there wasn’t time for the tub. Leah turned on the spigots. It took her a moment to get the temperature adjusted, but once she did, she let the hot stream melt away the day. After a few more moments of bliss she washed up hastily because she had no idea how long the hot water would last. She assumed the boiler Sam told her about heated only a finite amount of water, and she didn’t want Ryder grousing because she’d exhausted the supply.

  Back in her room, Leah scanned the gowns in the armoire. Should she be conservative or dazzling? Since he’d already pegged her as a scarlet woman, she decided she might as well look like one and chose dazzling. She and Cecil had gotten into an argument over this gown in the dressmaker’s shop back in Boston. Leah had agreed with him on the dress’s beauty but twenty-seven dollars? The price was far too extravagant for her taste. He’d purchased it anyway.

  Leah wished for a mirror so she could really see how she looked because the gown made her feel so unlike herself. She felt sophisticated and worldly in the bare-shouldered creation, not like a small-town girl playing mistress, which was the reality. The low-cut décolletage was far more daring than she was accustomed to, but she’d seen dresses in the Boston shops that were far more scandalous, ones that made her own seem prim. As long as she didn’t bend forward too far, she had no fear of exposing herself, but having never worn a dress like this before, she could only cross her fingers and pray everything would stay put.

  With the aid of her hand mirror, she put a bit of rouge on her cheeks and a dab of paint on her lips. She’d braided her hair French style and twisted the ends into a coil that rested on the base of her neck. Giving it one last pat, she slipped into her fancy pumps, picked up a black-silk shawl for her shoulders, and set out to face the evening.

  She saw Ryder coming up the hall. He was dressed in a well-tailored black suit and white shirt, and his hair was loose. She thought no man had a right to be so magnificently made.

  He looked at her in the black dress, barely able to wonder if she was still mad. He’d thought her beautiful before, but he had no words to describe her loveliness now. If this were a children’s tale, he’d be the prince and she his princess. The gown, her hair, the subtle paint on her mouth all conspired to leave him a bit breathless. He wanted to make her the evening’s appetizer, main course, and dessert. He said, “I came to meet you. I didn’t know if you knew where to go.”

  “Thank you,” Leah replied. “I didn’t know where to go.”

  “We’re eating on the porch. This way.”

  He soundlessly extended his elbow. Leah met his eyes for a moment, then placed her hand on his arm.

  The porch turned out to be a large glassed-in room that flared off the back of the house. The tall ceiling-to-floor windows gave yet another spectacular view of the countryside. She imagined it offered a stunning look at the setting sun. The high beamed ceilings and black-and-gray stones were evident here also. The heads of two bears stared down from the wall above the mantel of the fireplace. The fierce eyes and ferocious teeth seemed to view her warningly.

  Sam was there waiting for them, and he’d set up a small table and two chairs near the windows. On the table lay a white tablecloth, silverware, china, and silver-topped serving platters. “You look very lovely, Miss Leah.”

  “Thank you, Sam. You set a lovely table,” Leah replied genuinely.

  “My pleasure. I’ll be back later with your chocolate cake.”

  They were then left alone, and an awkwardness rose up in Leah that was so strong she had to walk over to the window and pretend to be looking out at the countryside. When she hazarded a glance over her shoulder he was standing across the room, watching her silently. She didn’t want to become embroiled in another confrontation. She turned back, wishing she could read his mind.

  “Think we can eat without jumping down each other’s throats?” he asked her quietly.

  For some reason she didn’t find it surprising that he could read her mind. “I’d like to try.”

  However, she had other things on her mind too: such as his true intent. She turned and asked, “What are you really about, Ryder Damien? Was this whole bargain just a way to get back at your father?”

  “If I told you no, would that matter?”

  “Maybe,” she confessed truthfully. She immediately wanted to snatch the word back. He’d undoubtedly use her answer as confirmation that she was indeed the kind of woman he’d accused her of being: a woman trolling for protectors. “That isn’t what I meant.”

  “What did you mean?”

  “That a man should want a woman for herself, not for what or whom she represents.”

  “So if I wanted you for myself, you wouldn’t mind the deal we struck?”

  That question caught her off guard, as did the heat that slowly spread across her senses. “I’ve only known you a few days, and honestly, what I’ve known I haven’t much liked.”

  He gave her a rare grin. “You’re hell on a man’s pride.”

  She shrugged. “One of my charms, I suppose.”

  “Then stay charming and don’t ever apologize for speaking the truth. It’s good for me, I’m told.”

  He then gestured toward the table. “Shall we?”

  Leah nodded and walked over. As he politely helped her with her chair, his nearness slid over her, making her think about how this night might end.

  Standing behind her, Ryder could smell the faint notes of her perfume. The urge to fill his senses with the tantalizing scents tempted him, but he forced himself to back away.

  They spent a few silent moments unfolding the linen napkins and placing them across their laps. Leah felt as if she were dining with a king in his palace and was as uncertain as a virgin concubine. Daring a look his way, she thought the glossy black hair falling onto his shoulders meshed perfectly with the strong line of his jaw, the proud nose and chin, and the raven black eyes. The cuffs of the pure white shirt led her eyes to his large hands with their short-clipped nails. When she looked up, his eyes were waiting.

  Ryder wondered how long he’d be able to restrain himself. He had every intention of treating her with the respect she kept insisting he show, but knew it might make for a long and somewhat frustrating evening. “Pass me your plate, please.”

  Leah did.

  Beneath the covered dishes atop the table they found slices of roast chicken, potatoes, and
squash. She watched him spoon a portion of each offering onto her plate. He handed it back, then filled his own.

  As he picked up his fork, she said, “We must say grace.”

  He searched her eyes for a moment, then set the implement down. Nodding acquiescence, he lowered his head. The resulting silence prevailed for so long, Ryder raised his eyes once again, only to find hers waiting.

  “This is your home,” she pointed out quietly. “You should do the blessing.”

  At first, he thought she might be kidding, but when her calm didn’t change, he realized she was quite serious. Caught off guard he frantically searched his mind for a suitable verse, then suddenly out of a place long buried, the words rose and he spoke them with a soft reverence.

  “Oh Great Spirit whose voice I hear in the winds,

  And whose breath gives life to all the world, hear me.

  I am small and weak.

  I need your strength and wisdom.”

  In the silence that followed the last word, he looked up, and a very moved Leah said, “That was inspiring.”

  Ryder found himself beset by both embarrassment and resentment; he hadn’t prayed in years. The fact that this woman had been able to draw up a part of himself he’d turned his back on, made him unconsciously finger the medicine bag hidden beneath his clothing. “It’s one of my grandmother’s prayers.”

  Seeing his gesture, Leah wondered what hung from the string of rawhide circling his brown throat. “Is she still alive?”

  “No.”

  The mask that closed down over his features made Leah sense there might be pain tied to his grandmother’s memory, so she didn’t press for more details. She turned her attention to her plate instead. “Everything looks so wonderful.”

  Grateful she’d changed the subject, because he didn’t like speaking of Little Tears, Ryder replied easily, “Sam cooked for the Ninth. He’s pretty good around a stove.”

  “I knew he was with the Ninth, but he never said he’d been the cook. He did say you two met in Minnesota but not how long ago.”

  “We’ve been friends over ten years. Met him when I was going to school in Minnesota.”

  “He’s a nice man.”