“You’re a very passionate woman.”
“Well-raised women aren’t supposed to be passionate.”
“You’d be surprised what a well-raised woman will do behind closed doors with the right man.”
Heat burned Leah’s cheeks. His pointed words brought back to mind their fiery interlude with the spiced peaches. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Why, are you afraid your passionate nature will lead you astray?”
“Frankly, yes.”
He stopped the carriage in the middle of the moonlit road.
“Why are we stopping?”
“To see if I can give your nature some help…”
When he leaned over and kissed her, she knew she should have protested, but his lips were so warm and knowing, his cajoling so moving, she forgot all about it. Tender, tiny flicks of his tongue against the parted corners of her mouth made her arch closer so she could gift him with the same arousing play. They teased and tantalized each other for what seemed an eternity, but neither could bear to halt. He placed kisses on her lips, her nose, the small dark shells of her ears. As their ardor flared his hands slowly joined the fray, mapping her curves, caressing her jaw, her throat. His mouth meandered down the scented column of her neck. His hands explored her breasts possessively while his lips brushed heat across the soft, tempting skin above the neckline of her gown. He slid a bold hand inside, and the nipple cried out a joyous welcome. Her dress was drawn down and under his ardent suckling the bud bloomed.
Leah had never envisioned being made love to in the middle of the road in the middle of the night, yet here she was, her head melted back against the seat, her gown rucked down, her breasts damp and hard.
Ryder thought she made quite an erotic sight bared for him under the moonlight. He wanted to slide the silk gown up her hips and see about baring a darker, more intimate portion of her, but found encouraging her passionate nature to be exciting as well. To that end he brushed his lips across her berried nipples. A pleasure-filled moan slid from her lips, sounding all the world like a musical note against the silence of the vast Colorado countryside. Enjoying her response, he repeated the gesture, this time pausing to dally with first one budded nipple and then the other before his hands began slowly to explore the warm flesh of her limbs beneath her dress.
Leah tingled in response to the strong hands moving her gown up her legs. All of the many reasons why being with him made no sense rose to the fore, but when his intimate touch found her through the thin cotton barrier of her drawers they were reduced to ash. She crooned and arched, then shamelessly widened the way so he could give her more.
Her uninhibited responses fired Ryder’s desires. He was hard for her, achingly so. He wanted to touch her for a lifetime but doubted even that would be long enough to give her all the pleasure he wanted her to receive. Looking up, Ryder saw a pinpoint of light cresting the road about a mile away. A lantern. He leaned in and placed his lips softly against her own. “There’s a wagon coming—about a mile off.”
His fingers hadn’t stopped their wicked ministrations. “I’m going to bring you to pleasure and then we’ll get you home…okay?”
Leah was too busy rippling and pulsing under his tender assault to care about anything, but she whispered, “Okay…”
He let loose one of his rare smiles. Kissing her again, he brazenly slipped a hand inside her drawers. “No screaming allowed, Morenita…”
She was hot and swollen; already prepared by his earlier play. It didn’t take long for her body to begin crying for release. He teased her for a few hot moments more though, malely enjoying the sensual way she arched and rose to the play of his hands, and how enticing her dark-nippled breasts looked bathed by the soft pale light of the moon. Kissing her deeply, he eased a bold finger into the core of her pleasure and gave her what she so desperately craved. The orgasm rocketed through her with such shattering force she screamed her joy into his shoulder.
Leah came back to herself slowly. The soft echoing throb purring in her body made her want to spend the rest of eternity right where she was. Turning her head on the seat, she looked over and found him watching her with night-shrouded eyes. Feigning irritation, she said, “This is exactly why I didn’t want you to see me home.”
Ryder grinned. “Then fix your clothes so we can get there.”
“As if that’s my fault.”
Ryder reached over and softly traced her cheek. He was hard as iron. If he didn’t find release soon, he wouldn’t be able to walk for a week, but he knew it wouldn’t be here or now. He willed his body to calm down so he could pick up the reins. As she righted her gown, he looked on disappointedly.
“What’s the matter?” Leah asked as she gave the gown one last adjustment.
“Nothing. Just prefer you the way you were.”
Leah smiled self-consciously. “You’re too bold for me, I think.”
“Didn’t notice you complaining a minute ago.”
He had her there, and she knew it. “Aren’t you supposed to be driving me home?”
He gave her a grin and slapped down the reins.
They made it back to the cabin without any further delays. He parked the carriage out in front of the main house, then walked her to her door.
Leah could see the light on in Eloise’s studio. “Eloise is still up, I see.”
It was an inane observation, but Leah suddenly felt awkward and unsure now that the time had come for them to part. “Where’s this leading, Ryder?”
He answered truthfully, “I don’t know.”
Leah remembered how incoherent she’d been on the carriage seat, then dashed the memory away. “I doubt this has any future.”
“But it isn’t about the future, it’s about now. Here.”
“It’s about the past too, though—at least it is for you.”
Ryder stared off into the distance. He hadn’t brought her home to do this.
Leah felt compelled to continue. “Deep down inside you don’t trust me—haven’t since we met. To you I’m some terrible woman who married the father you hate under questionable circumstances. You say you want me, but I can’t help but wonder at your motives, too.”
Ryder met her eyes. Her penchant for truth was humbling. “So, what do you propose we do?”
“End this—now,” she replied softly, haltingly. “Otherwise, there’ll always be questions, hurt feelings. I—”
“Suppose I can’t.”
The power in those three words silenced her. Leah searched his unreadable features. What was he admitting? Was he telling her there was more to this relationship than lust? Had his heart somehow gotten involved along the way? Leah found that hard to believe. She didn’t know what to think or to say.
Ryder decided it was time for him to be truthful as well. “No, I don’t trust you, and no, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out your marriage to Louis was some type of sham. However—” His voice dropped to the softness of a caress. “I want you like I’ve never wanted a woman before. You could be wanted in six states, and I’d still dream about kissing that mouth, or making your body beg for my touch…”
The words hit Leah with such sweet force, she almost fell over. “Ryder—”
“I’m not done.”
Leah quieted and noted the pulse beating between her thighs.
“I’ve been fighting off my desire for you from the moment we met, and I’ve come to a decision.”
“Which is?”
“I’m not going to fight it anymore.”
Their eyes held.
He added then, “I want you. You want me. I’m going to remind you of those two truths each and every time we’re together, so be warned. Good night.”
Leah could only blink as she watched him stride off. What an arrogant and impossible man! But when she replayed his words, her traitorous nipples tightened, and the throbbing in her body began again. A portion of herself was still undone by all she’d heard, but the woman inside smiled; she couldn’t wait f
or their next encounter.
Leah went inside, undressed, and got into bed. She wondered if she’d dream of Ryder.
She dreamt of Cecil. His dead body was lying in a coffin in a shadowy, black-draped room. The silent room was empty but for a lone chair in the corner. On it sat Helene. The sight startled Leah awake. She was just as alarmed to find herself shaking and covered in sweat. Wiping her hands across her eyes, she tried to calm herself. Had there been more to the dream than she remembered? What had caused such a reaction? For a moment there she’d felt absolute terror.
Throwing back the covers, Leah padded barefoot over to the dresser and by the light of the approaching dawn put on a dry gown. The dream was fading as were the resonants of terror. Leah thought a bit of air might do her good, so, grabbing a cloak, she put it on over her nightgown and stepped out into the quiet.
The birds were signaling the beginning of the new day with songs that trilled against the silence and the oranges and reds stripping the still-dark sky. Leah had no destination, but her steps seemed to naturally take her through the dew-damp flowers to Alice. Just before Leah got within sight of the statue, she thought she heard a voice. She stopped to listen for a moment to make sure it hadn’t been her imagination. She heard it again. It was Eloise. The trees encircling the cleared oval of land where Alice stood allowed Leah the cover she needed to approach without being seen. Leah didn’t want to disturb her landlady but she did want to make sure she wasn’t in distress, so she walked slowly very quietly.
Leah could see Eloise sitting on the bench talking to Alice it seemed.
Eloise was saying, “I thought the Lord had forgiven us, Alice, but looks like we got one more trial ahead.” Eloise quieted for a moment, then said, “You’re right, it is a shame, but we both know it has to be done.”
Leah realized Eloise was acting as if she and the marble girl were having a real conversation.
For a short time there was silence again, then Eloise said, “No, I don’t know when. I’m sure the time will show itself though. Maybe then the Lord will be done with us and we can rest.”
Eloise then began nodding as if listening to and agreeing with whatever Alice was saying.
“You’re right, precious,” Eloise replied. “We can only do what’s right, and pray.”
Leah had never seen anything as strange as this but supposed if she were living alone with only an old mule and a statue, she would probably exhibit some eccentric behavior, too. At least she has someone to talk to, Leah thought, and decided Eloise’s talks were probably as harmless as Eloise herself.
Sunday morning meant church in Eloise’s house. As Leah rode with Eloise to join the thirty or so other parishioners in worship at one of the local A.M.E. churches Leah didn’t mention the encounter she’d witnessed between Eloise and Alice earlier this morning. The pastor, the Reverend Garrison, was as handsome as he was young, but he was good in the pulpit.
On the drive back, Eloise asked, “How was the party at the Great Cordelia’s?”
“At first, I felt like a tuna being circled by sharks.”
Eloise chucked. “That bad?”
“Ryder was there, too. He said Mr. Wayne invited him, but I don’t think he did.”
“Probably not. Ryder and Cordelia don’t get along real well.”
“Why not?” Leah asked.
“Because he wouldn’t share her bed.”
Leah blinked.
“Ryder’s very discriminating when it comes to women. He isn’t a philanderer like his father was. No offense.”
“None taken.”
“Did you and Ryder get to talk?” Miss Eloise asked.
Leah thought back to the ride home; its passionate middle and its fiery end. She didn’t think Eloise wanted that much detail. “We did, but it turned out confusing as always.”
“Well, Ryder seems quite taken with you, in spite of the problems.”
“I know, but I wonder about his motives though,” Leah confessed.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he didn’t exactly love his father.”
“Few did, Leah, and there is the death of Ryder’s mother in this, too.”
Leah sighed. “I know. I just keep wondering if the only reason he’s interested in me is to extract some type of revenge.”
Holding the reins of Ol’ Tom, Eloise shrugged. “That’s quite possible. Ryder’s a complicated individual. Has been his whole life. However you’re a very beautiful woman. His interest is only natural, I think.”
“Or just another competition between him and Seth.”
“There’s that possibility also. They’ve been competing most of their lives. When they were young the game was heavily weighed in Seth’s favor. He was the legitimate Montague son, and Helene always made sure he had the best. On the other hand, Ryder had his grandmother, Little Tears, and the rest of her Cheyenne people, but life on a reservation wasn’t much of a life. If the hunger didn’t get you, the disease did. There were no fancy Sunday suits or trips to San Francisco for Ryder like there were for Seth.”
“I can’t believe people around here called him Squaw Boy.”
“One of the milder slurs they tarred him with. After his mother’s death, Little Tears took him back to her people. They returned here after the massacre at Sand Creek.”
“What was his mother like?”
“Beautiful, exotic. She and Louis were pretty much cut from the same cloth.”
“Meaning?” Leah prompted.
“Pardon my frankness but the more they had the more they wanted. He gave her carriages, stock, gold, clothes, and she took it all willingly. Rumor had it she wanted him to marry her after Louis sent her husband to his death down that shaft, but he refused. Bernice had been dead over a year, but I guess he didn’t want a Black half-breed gracing his table either. In many ways, it’s good this all took place while Ryder was an infant and too young to understand.”
“Why?”
“Because he’ll never really know just what a Jezebel his mother was.”
Leah heard the tone of disapproval in Eloise’s voice, and replied, “But no one deserves to die alone at the bottom of a mine shaft, Eloise. Jezebel or not.”
Eloise nodded, then said, “You’re right, child. You’re right.”
“Now, tell me about this massacre—Sand Creek, did you call it?”
Eloise asked, “You don’t know about Sand Creek then?”
“No, I don’t. Where or what is it?”
“It’s down by the Big Sandy River over near the Colorado-Kansas border.”
“And the Indians massacred some people there?”
“No, some people massacred the Indians there. Cheyenne and Arapaho to be exact.”
Leah went still.
“This happened on November 29, 1864. You have to remember how bad times were back then for the tribes; government folks cheating them out of their land, hunting them down like game to put them on reservations. Here in Colorado it was no different. As soon as a treaty was signed, the men on the government’s side would break it. The territorial governor at the time was a man named Evans. He wanted all the tribes gone and didn’t care how. Helping him was Colonel James Chivington and his Colorado Volunteers. Now, Chivington absolutely hated Indians. Hated them. He told folks that he’d not only come to kill Indians, but he believed it right and honorable to use any means under God’s heaven to kill them.”
“My word,” Leah exclaimed. “He sounds depraved.”
“Many think he was.”
“So what happened at Sand Creek?”
Eloise paused a moment as if the memory brought her pain. “Chivington and his regiments descended on the Cheyenne and Arapaho with seven hundred men, four howitzers, and enough hate to shame the devil. The Indians were asleep. This was just before dawn, and there were hundreds of Indians in the camp. Mostly old people, women, and children. The men were off hunting. The others awakened to hell. When the shooting finally stopped, Chivington’s men had killed a hun
dred and five women and children. That was the government’s estimate. The survivors said those killed really numbered in the hundreds. Many of the children were infants who died in their mothers’ arms. Then the butchering began.”
“They killed babies?”
“Some, unborn.”
“Dear Lord,” Leah whispered. “And Ryder and his grandmother were there?”
Eloise nodded sadly. “If Chivington’s men hadn’t spent the long ride to Sand Creek getting drunk, countless more would’ve died that night, but between the drunks and the troops who couldn’t shoot straight, many, like Ryder and Little Tears, somehow managed to get away.”
“Did anyone back East care that this had been done?”
“Oh, there were hearings held afterward. I do have to say that a few of the army officers with Chivington that day were sickened by what they saw and told the government investigators just that.”
“What happened to Chivington?”
Eloise gave a bitter chuckle. “He took a bit of heat for a while, but now he’s the undersheriff in Denver.”
“What?”
“Yep.”
Leah shook her head solemnly. “Only in America.”
“My feelings, too. So, I told you all this to say Ryder has more than just the death of his mother and his feelings toward his father haunting him.”
“How old was he?”
“About fourteen if I’m remembering correctly.”
“Fourteen,” Leah whispered. At the age of fourteen her only concerns were raising hell at Miss Caldwell’s School for Young Women of Color. Her heart ached for the fourteen-year-old Ryder. He and his grandmother must have been terrified to find themselves in the middle of such carnage.
Eloise looked over and said, “So now you know about Sand Creek.”
“I doubt I’ll ever forget.”
“Good. Always remember in honor of those children who never drew breath.”
Eloise was so silent for so long afterward, Leah peered over, and asked, “Are you okay?”
Holding the reins, Eloise slowly wagged her head. “No, just facing something down the road that’s going to be distasteful.”
Leah thought back to the conversation between Eloise and Alice. “Are you ill?”
Before the Dawn Page 20
