Before the Dawn

by Beverly Jenkins

“Trust him with my life.”

  He observed her for a moment, then asked, “Is there anyone you’d trust your life to?”

  Leah didn’t need to think about the answer. “Cecil’s the closest thing I have to family. So it would have to be him.”

  From the look on his face she assumed he didn’t consider her choice a good one, but Leah didn’t care. The many times Leah found herself in trouble at Miss Caldwell’s School, it was Cecil who caught the train and came up to try and reason with the school’s board of trustees. Had it not been for his diplomatic skills, she was certain she would have been tossed out and asked never to return. She wondered how Cecil was faring.

  Talking of Cecil seemed to remind both Leah and Ryder of the barriers between them. As a result, an awkward silence resettled, so they concentrated on their meals. After a while, however, the air in the room became so thick and overwhelming, Leah tried for small talk. “The windows must give a spectacular view when the sun sets.”

  Ryder was glad they were speaking again. “It does. Folks called me loco for putting in all this glass, but I grew up in a tar shack with no windows.”

  Leah paused and scanned his face. “Sounds like a hard life.”

  “It was, but it’s in the past. I prefer to look forward.”

  “Except when it concerns your father.”

  He looked up from his plate, and drawled, “That’s a good way to start another argument.”

  Leah winced. “My apologies. You didn’t deserve such a flippant remark.”

  “Even if it’s true?”

  She didn’t respond to that.

  Ryder answered for her. “It’s true. I do blame him for that hard life.”

  Leah dearly wished he’d known the Monty she’d known. Had father and son been reconciled before Monty’s death, she was certain they would have benefited from the results. “He died a painful death.”

  “There’s little sympathy here, so let’s talk of other things.”

  Leah’s chin rose. “Such as?”

  He shrugged. “Where’d you go to school?”

  “Miss Caldwell’s Private School for Young Women of Color.”

  “Sounds fancy.”

  She forked up a bit of squash. “It was, and as a result I spent more time in Miss Caldwell’s office than I did in the classroom.”

  He chuckled. “Why?”

  “I was, as Miss Caldwell once pronounced, a walking, talking, make-trouble machine. I was held up as an example as to what a cultured, young Colored woman was not supposed to be.”

  His eyes lit up. “So, you are a hellion.”

  “Only when necessary. But as time there went by, I called on necessity more and more.”

  He decided he enjoyed her crisp New England speech. “Didn’t the teachers like you?”

  “They liked me fine. It was the other girls I kept bumping heads with.”

  “Why?”

  As Leah thought back, the pain of those years resurfaced as fresh and as raw as if it were yesterday. “I was different,” she said softly. “I had no legitimate father—I was poor, and my mother owned a tavern.”

  Ryder stared at her over his raised water goblet. “Your mother owned a tavern?”

  “Yes. In spite of what you may think, it was quite a respectable place. It was called the Black Swan. I grew up there.”

  He was still staring.

  Leah told him plainly, “So, we’re a lot alike you and I. Both bastards.”

  He spit out his water.

  Leah smiled at the reaction. “See what I mean about causing trouble? I know decent women aren’t supposed to utter such a word, but it’s who I am. Besides, I was called that most of my life.”

  Ryder realized she was truly an extraordinary woman. “It didn’t bother you to be slurred that way?”

  “Of course. Why do you think I spent so much time in Miss Caldwell’s office? After a while they stopped slurring me to my face, especially the ones I gave bloody noses to, and started a more subtle campaign. They poured the chamber pots in my bed, stuck my shoes to the floor with hot tar. Someone even sneaked into my room in the middle of the night and cut off my hair. I caused such mayhem after that, I was sent home for the remainder of the term.”

  He looked at all that fine thick hair and tried to imagine it cut short as a child’s. “Where was this place?”

  “Upstate Massachusetts.”

  “And this was a ladies’ school?”

  “That’s what it said on the door.”

  He shook his head. “How long did you attend?”

  “Three years.”

  “And you were what age?”

  “Twelve.”

  “Your mother must’ve been a very thrifty woman to be able to pay for such a school.”

  “She didn’t. Monty did.”

  Once again he found himself rendered speechless. He ran his eyes over her uncommonly beautiful face. “My father waited a long time for you then.”

  Whether the dig was intentional or not, Leah wanted to slap him soundly. Instead she asked coolly, “So, are we even now? One nasty remark from me and one from you?”

  He raised a kingly eyebrow. “Are you saying he didn’t wait around for you to grow up?”

  “You’re intimating that he was a cradle robber, and he was not.”

  “Explain it to me then. Maybe if you told me the whole truth, I wouldn’t jump to these conclusions.”

  But Leah couldn’t tell him the truth, at least not about marrying his father on his deathbed. Who knew what he might do? “There’s nothing to tell.”

  Ryder didn’t believe her for a moment. Beneath her testiness, she looked downright uncomfortable, making him all the more determined to find out what she was hiding. “How long were the two of you married?”

  Leah gave him the same pat answer she’d given Helene. “Not long enough.”

  It wasn’t really an answer, and they both knew it. She could see the tightness in his jaw. Their time together this evening was well on its way to becoming confrontational. Again.

  Leah eased back her chair. “Maybe I should simply go back to my room. We’re like oil and water, you and I.”

  “More like a match and a stick of dynamite.”

  He held her eyes, and the dry humor reflected in them made Leah’s smile peek out. “That probably is a better analogy.”

  Ryder found her smile warming. “Let’s make a pact?”

  “What type of pact?”

  “To set the past aside for now and enjoy the rest of our evening.”

  Leah realized that it was a simple request really. She saw no reason not to agree, so she stuck out her hand. When he grasped it, the contact sang across her body like a softened current of lightning. Her first instinct was to draw away, but he held on to her gently.

  Her heart beating fast, Leah watched him slowly turn her hand over and peer at her palm. Years of scrubbing floors with harsh lye soap had taken their toll. She’d never have the smooth soft hands of a gentlewoman, unless red chapped skin somehow became fashionable.

  Ryder found the scars and calluses both surprising and disturbing. It was the hand of a woman who’d worked hard, maybe her whole life.

  Still holding her hand, he looked into her eyes, and asked, “Scrubbing?”

  Leah nodded. She wanted to draw back so he wouldn’t see her cracked nails or the work-toughened skin.

  “They’re healing, it appears.”

  She stammered, “I—probably because I haven’t had to scrub…” Her voice trailed off.

  His eyes found hers again. “Who are you really, Leah?”

  The room seemed infinitely warmer to Leah. She knew without a doubt that this was not a man she could lie to much longer. There was something in his eyes that demanded truth, and her ability to stand firm was slowly beginning to crumble. “I am who I say I am. Leah Barnett Montague.”

  “And you’re not just some actress Cecil Lee hired to play the part to get at Louis’s estate?”

  “No, I
knew your father most of my life. I loved him, he loved me.”

  Leah had answered him truthfully. He continued to scan her hand though, and the resulting sensations made it hard for her to think.

  He slowly worried his thumb over the calluses ridging her palm. The touch was as gentle as Leah imagined a caress would be.

  “I’ll get you some aloe,” he offered. “It should help them heal.”

  Even though she had no idea what aloe might be, she nodded nervously, then asked, “May I have my hand back now?”

  He observed her for a few seconds more, then released her.

  Leah’s heart was beating so fast she had to close her eyes and take a deep breath in order to regain her calm. Ryder Damien, with his long hair, dark eyes and Rocky Mountain physique was far too vivid a man for a simple coastal girl like herself.

  There was a definite tension in the room now. Unlike the earlier moments, this wasn’t rooted in anger or misunderstanding but in the age-old attraction between a man and a woman. The current arcing back and forth was thick enough to touch. Leah wanted to pick up her skirts and run. She felt as skittish as a fish near a baited hook.

  Ryder sat back in his chair and tried to figure her out. On one hand she looked as sensual as a sultan’s concubine, but on the other hand she was acting as if she’d never been touched before. He could still feel the trembling in her hand when he held it just now. It had been like stroking a virgin, but Leah Montague wasn’t a virgin; widows couldn’t be virgins. Could they? What was she hiding? He felt as if the answer to the puzzle lay right under his nose. Maybe he was simply too close to see it, he theorized, but given enough time he was certain he could unearth the truth.

  Sam walked in and asked with a grin, “How was the meal, Miss Leah?”

  Leah was so glad to see him. “Everything was fine, Sam, just fine.”

  He came over and picked up their cleaned plates, “You want that chocolate cake now? Got some ice cream, too.”

  “I’d love some.”

  Sam looked pleased. “Let me get rid of these plates, and I’ll be right back.”

  The cake and ice cream were good. “This is heavenly,” Leah gushed softly as she ate from the wedge of the heavily frosted cake.

  Ryder thought the happiness on her face far sweeter than any dessert. He found himself wondering if her kisses would be sweet as well. Even though Ryder had no true recollection of what his father looked like, he suddenly found himself imagining her in the arms of an old man, kissing him, being caressed by him, making love to him. He pushed his cake away.

  Leah looked up from her plate just in time to see the sour look on his face. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  He bored her with eyes so foreboding, she unconsciously drew back.

  Ryder lied. “No.”

  Leah knew he wasn’t being truthful; the dark clouds gathered over his face were rooted in something. She thought back over the last few moments in an attempt to determine if she’d said anything that might have brought on the abrupt change of mood, but came up with nothing.

  Ryder sensed she didn’t believe him. He looked at her velvety black skin, those expressive feline eyes, and that sirenlike mouth, and knew that the man he hated most in the world had had her first.

  Unable to get past that reality, Ryder set down his fork. Tight-lipped, he pushed back from the table and stood. “I’m sorry. I just remembered a report I was supposed to finish tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Leah sat there speechless. Confusion warred with hurt and anger. Had he done this purposely? Had he made her get all dressed up just to treat her this way? In the end, she told herself it didn’t matter. Her chilly response acted as armor. “Then by all means, go and finish your report.”

  “Feel free to finish your cake.””

  Leah stood. “No thanks. I’ve lost my appetite.”

  For a moment, as their eyes held, she thought she saw regret reflected in his, but that didn’t matter either. His leaving did, and the sooner the better.

  He inclined his head in a silent good-bye.

  When he left her alone, Leah let out a sigh of regret. She didn’t know any other way to describe her feelings; she’d actually enjoyed parts of the evening, but something had set him off, and she’d be willing to bet it had to do with Monty. His memory seemed destined to surface and cause conflicts no matter how hard they both tried to pretend otherwise.

  Hearing someone entering the room behind her, she turned and saw Sam. He had what looked to be regret in his eyes. “He’s gone I see.”

  Leah set aside her emotion. “Yes. I’m going to my room. He said he’d see me tomorrow.”

  “Then will you stay and finish your cake with me?”

  The plea in his eyes touched her, melting away her anger. “Of course.”

  While Leah finished her cake, Sam kept up a steady flow of conversation. She found his stories about his years with the Ninth fascinating enough to make her forget all about the maddening Ryder Damien.

  “Yep,” Sam was saying, “spent a whole lot of years up there in Montana. Terrible winters, just terrible. After one blizzard, found one of the mules standing up frozen solid in his stall. We ate him of course,” he added grinning.

  “But of course,” Leah replied with a smile.

  Yes, she liked Sam Waters. He had an easy way of looking at life that seemed to contrast sharply with Ryder’s dark view.

  “You know,” Sam pointed out, “even though the Tenth gets a lot of recognition, the Ninth had its share of adventures and decorations too.”

  “Where were they stationed?”

  “Oh, Montana, Kansas, Texas, Oklahoma. We rebuilt Fort Davis down in Texas, you know.”

  Amused, Leah replied, “No, I didn’t.”

  “Well, we did. We chased bandits, Kickapoos, Apaches. Guarded lumber trains and wagon trains. Put up telegraph wires, cleared roads. You name it we did it. Served under Major Albert P. Morrow.”

  “You sound mighty proud of the time you were a soldier.”

  “Mighty proud. Only place in this country where a Black man is allowed to be a man. Of course, like the Tenth, we got cast-off supplies and broken-down horses, but we had no control over that. Instead we concentrated on being the best unit in the West. And we were. The Tenth’ll probably argue, but hey, we were the best.”

  When he was done boasting, he looked her way, and asked, “What did you two fight about?”

  Leah knew he was referring to Ryder. “Nothing actually. One moment we were eating cake and the next he had thunderclouds all over his face. I got all dressed up for nothing it seems.”

  “Well, he can be a touch slow at times, but—” He paused dramatically.

  Leah looked over. “But what?”

  “He’s never brought a woman up to Sunrise before.”

  “Sunrise?”

  “That’s what this ranch’s called.”

  The implications of that floored her for a moment. “Never?”

  “Never. That’s why I looked so surprised to find you getting out of the buggy.”

  Leah couldn’t help herself. She had to ask a second time. “Never?”

  “Ever.”

  She had no idea what to do with such a startling piece of information.

  “Pretty surprised, are you?”

  “Very surprised, Sam.”

  “Means you’re special.”

  “It means he paid fifteen thousand dollars for me. I don’t wish to be special. Besides, he and I will never resolve the issue of his father.”

  “Give him time. Like I said, he’s a touch slow sometimes, but he usually makes up for it once he’s got everything figured out.”

  “Has he told you how long I’m going to be here?”

  Sam shook his head. “You might want to ask him.”

  “I suppose, but it won’t be this evening. I’ve had enough of him for one day.”

  “He can be prickly, but he has a good heart. Just needs a good woman.”

  Leah
looked at him and snorted. “Now I know it’s time for me to go to my room. A good woman?”

  Leah couldn’t help herself—she laughed. “Sam, are you matchmaking?”

  He placed his hand over his heart. “Never let it be said that I’ve ever lied to a beautiful woman. Yes, ma’am, I am. You see, I’m gettin’ old, and Ryder’s going to need someone to look after him once I’m gone.”

  “Hire a nurse.”

  “Not when you’ll do so much better.”

  “If I was his woman, he’d need an undertaker, not a nurse.”

  Sam howled with glee. “Yes, ma’am, you’ll do just fine.”

  An outdone Leah grinned and finished off the last bites of her cake. She could just imagine herself married to the Dark Lord of the Mountains. They’d spend the entire time hurling lightning bolts at one another; scaring the children, and frightening the wildlife.

  Leah did like Sam though.

  Hours later, alone in his bedroom, Ryder stood before the large windows staring out at the night. The only light and sound came from the wood burning in the fireplace. Leah was on his mind. Why couldn’t she have been a woman he’d met by happenstance? Why did she have to be his father’s woman?

  When Ryder heard Sam come in, he didn’t turn around. “She okay?”

  “Yes,” Sam said tightly.

  “I sense disapproval in your tone, old man.”

  “You didn’t do right by her tonight.”

  “I know,” Ryder replied quietly. It was a large admission from a man who rarely faced his shortcomings.

  “Why are you treating her so badly?”

  “Because I want her and can’t have her.”

  “Why not?”

  “Would you want a woman who’d lain with your enemy first?”

  “Depends on the woman. Take her for who she is now, not who she might’ve been.”

  Ryder turned back to the night. “Easier said than done.”

  “I agree, but for a woman like that…” Sam’s voice trailed off as if the statement spoke for itself.

  “Even for a woman like that.”

  There was silence then.

  Sam broke it a few moments later. “Well, I’m going on to bed. She’s too nice to be treated like trash, Ryder.”

  Ryder didn’t respond.

  “See you in the morning,” Sam told him.