Simply Heaven

by Patricia Hagan

  A sound at the door made her jump, startled, and she whirled about in a mixture of fear and anticipation. If it were Steve, it meant he had a key to her room, which would then mean that his behavior at dinner had all been an act and he was now coming to—what? If he'd had any untoward intentions, they would have surfaced on the trail, out in the wilderness. Certainly not here, where she could scream and be heard. No, it was not Steve fumbling with a key in the door. It was someone else, someone who meant her harm.

  Glancing about for a weapon, she wished she had fired up one of the lanterns, but then her eyes fell on the water pitcher. Snatching it up, she held it high, ready to send it crashing down on the head of whoever dared walk through that door.

  "Are you having trouble, Nonnie?"

  Raven heard a man's voice, followed by a woman's response. "I'm afraid so. The manager keeps promising me a new passkey, but he never seems to get around to it. This one just doesn't like to fit in certain doors—like this one."

  "Here. Let me."

  There was a click, and the door swung open.

  At the sight of the young woman in a white uniform and blue apron, Raven quickly lowered the pitcher.

  "Oh, goodness!" The maid gasped to see Raven standing there. "I'm sorry. I forgot to knock. I thought you were still out for the evening. I'll come back later."

  She turned, but Raven said, "No, it's all right. Come in, please. But the room is clean. I haven't mussed it at all."

  "I was just going to turn down the bed. My name is Nonnie. If there is anything I can do for you, just let me know. And I'd appreciate it," she added hopefully, "if you won't tell on me for bursting in like I did. It could cost me my job, and this hotel is the nicest in Mobile. In fact, it's probably the only one that hires maids. The rest only have cleaning stewards, and that doesn't pay as much."

  "Of course I won't say anything." Raven assured.

  Nonnie went to the bed and carefully pulled the spread back. "You're pretty." She smiled over her shoulder. "Where are you from?"

  "Texas. And thank you," she added self-consciously. No one had ever told her she was pretty before except Steve. Her mother had been a no-nonsense kind of woman who had no time for such things as being concerned with how someone looked. Seth had been the same way.

  The maid regarded her curiously. "Are you staying all by yourself? Surely not. You must be married."

  "No, but there is someone traveling with me, and we aren't married, so he has a room of his own,"

  "Oh, I see." She nodded approval.

  Raven did not want to continue talking about herself, so she pointed to the bed. "That is really a beautiful tepee, isn't it? I've never seen one like that before, made out of material instead of skin, and certainly not above a bed, but I guess you don't need tepee walls in a room," she added, with a nervous little giggle.

  At first Nonnie thought the guest was just trying to be funny, but by the expression on her face she could tell she was serious. Looking at her warily, she said, "That isn't a tepee, ma'am. It's called a canopy, and I can't imagine one being made of anything except fabric." Her eyes narrowed. "Where did you say you're from?"

  Raven turned away, embarrassed. "Texas," she mumbled. "We... we don't have beds like that out there." She went to the window, keeping her back turned. She did not want to talk anymore, afraid she'd make an even bigger fool of herself.

  Nonnie decided she was just a country girl come to town, and that was nothing to be ashamed of. She was straight out of the fields herself and grateful for a better job. "Well, I've heard Texas is rather uncivilized, so I'm not surprised they don't have canopies. This one isn't as nice as the ones in some of the other rooms. They've got netting to keep away mosquitoes."

  Raven didn't care about mosquitoes or canopies or anything else. All she wanted was to leave, and as she stared down at the busy street below, she wondered how far she could get before Steve discovered she was gone and trailed after her.

  "Anything going on down there?" Nonnie asked as she plumped the pillows. "It's usually quiet this time of night. Most of the noise is down at the waterfront."

  "All I see are men, and they all seem to be walking in the same direction." Raven thought that was odd. "They all seem to be in good spirits, too."

  Nonnie gave a scornful sniff. "You can bet they are. They're going to buy whiskey and women, both plentiful at the wharves. Makes me sick, it does, how a whore can sell her body to a man. They don't care if a man is married or not. All they're interested in is the money."

  Raven made no comment. It was not a topic she was interested in discussing. She knew about bawdy houses, because the soldiers, thinking she was a boy, had had no reason to watch what they said around her. When they did start talking about women and sex, she had taken her leave as quickly and discreetly as possible, but sometimes not quickly enough, and the descriptions became pretty explicit. She had learned more than she wanted to.

  Nonnie went on. "I tell you one thing, miss, when I get married, I'll keep my man satisfied so he won't have no call to go looking for another woman, no matter what it takes. I know some women would just as soon their man take a whore and leave them alone, but not me. I'll keep my husband's bed warm, to be sure. Say, it's getting dark in here. Should I fire up a lantern?"

  Raven declined and was relieved when the maid finally left, even though she was lonely, for it was the first night in weeks that Steve had not been near. It was an experience she'd never had before, having a man so close by, and she could not deny she had enjoyed it.

  As her thoughts drifted while the shadows of night crept into the room, she was struck to think maybe the women in the restaurant had not been jealous of her looks at all, but envious because she was with Steve. He had looked so handsome—clean-shaven, hair neatly trimmed, clothes neat and well-fitting. What woman would not be proud to be at his side? And she was even more so, for she knew of his rugged, almost feral side, which was exciting in a different way. She knew the smell of him, the feel of him, and her skin prickled deliciously to remember the intimate moments they had shared.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, as though to steel herself against regret for how the evening might have ended had tension not sprung between them. Would they have gone for a walk, dappled by moonlight filtering through the moss-draped trees? Would they have maybe even held hands? No one had ever held her hand. Raven could almost feel the warm strength of his fingers laced through hers. And if she allowed herself to, she could yet taste his lips.

  "Stop it," she commanded herself aloud. This was foolish. This was insane. She was tormenting herself for nothing. The kiss had been a mockery. He had seen through her ploy, knew she was teasing him into wanting her, and laughed in her face. Instead of shivering deliciously to remember, she should be quaking with fury that he could be so callous. Not that she condoned her own behavior, far from it. She had felt common, debased, to flaunt herself as she had. But her way of punishing him had turned against her, and now she was paying the price by feeling absolutely terrible about it all.

  She started to turn away from the window but then looked again. It couldn't be, could it?

  But it was!

  She clutched the lace curtains in her hands and stared down at Steve as he walked along so eagerly. He was whistling, smiling, and she bit down on her lower lip to realize he was on his way, like the other men, to buy his evening's pleasure.

  Don't you dare cry, she commanded herself. Don't you dare cry, and don't you dare care. She had no right. It was none of her concern. She meant nothing to him and never would, and now she knew that, even if they hadn't wound up sparring with each other, he had never intended to spend the evening with her. He'd had it in his mind all along to go to a whore.

  "Walk in the moonlight indeed!" she cried furiously, picking up a pillow and slamming it back down on the bed, only to fall on top and burrow her face in it. What she should do was yank off her fine clothes, pull out the Army scout uniform, and go to the stable, get Diablo, and rid
e out of here this very night. But she knew she would not do that. She had come too far and was too curious about her father to leave now.

  But she would go, she promised herself, blinking back frustrated tears, just as soon as possible, and to hell with Steve Maddox. Somehow, she would make herself forget him.

  But, as always, when sleep took her away, Raven was betrayed by her own dreams, and once more she was helplessly in Steve's embrace, yielding to his hot, sweet kiss.

  * * *

  Hedda Bowers told herself she might be a whore but she had her pride. "I'm not taking your money," she said.

  Steve looked at her, bemused. They were upstairs over Peg Leg Jack's Tavern, where Hedda had a room like the other prostitutes who worked for Peg Leg, giving him a cut of their night's take. The room was not much, but it was adequate, with a double bed and a chest where he supposed Hedda kept her belongings. He was leaning back against the pillows, a glass in one hand, an almost empty bottle of rye whiskey in the other. Hedda was an old friend, easy to talk to, and the time had slipped by without his realizing it.

  "Do you know how long we've been up here? Nearly an hour. And all you want to do is sip that liquor and talk. You ain't interested in a tumble in the hay, Steve Maddox, so I got to get back downstairs and get me a customer. Peg Leg is going to raise hell with me for being up here so long anyway. He don't like his girls to take more than half an hour on a busy night like tonight.

  "But like I said," she added, moving from where she had been sitting next to him, "I ain't taking your money. Now you gotta go, unless"—she looked at him slyly, lashes lowered provocatively—"you've got a yen after all."

  He didn't. He knew now he never had. He'd only wanted companionship, and Hedda had provided it. The fact was, though he'd never admit it, he just didn't want any woman except Raven, and he was wasting his time pretending otherwise.

  He watched as Hedda immodestly stripped in front of him. She had put on a red satin robe, trimmed in white feathers, but peeled out of it to change into a fetching purple gown to wear downstairs in hopes of enticing a paying customer. She had a good body: full, rounded breasts, narrow waist, and cushy, wide hips. He always enjoyed her—but not this night.

  When she was dressed, she tousled his hair and said, "You come back when you're in the mood, you hear? I hate to rush you, but if I'm lucky, I'll need this room in about ten minutes." She gave him a quick kiss and left.

  Steve did not tarry. Hedda would have no problems finding someone else. He was still dressed. All he had to do was pick up his hat and walk out.

  He paused, peeled a few bills from his wallet, and tossed them on the bedside table. After all, it wasn't Hedda's fault that for the time being the only desire he could feel was for Raven.

  Chapter 11

  Raven was waiting in the hotel lobby when Steve came downstairs the next morning. She stood with her head held high, ignoring the admiring glances of people around her. She was stunning in her new travel outfit, and he said as much in greeting, but she ignored him. Fine, he thought resolutely. Let her pout. A few more hours and she'd be Ned's responsibility—if Ned were still alive. If not, he would turn her over to Ned's lawyer and let him deal with her.

  He could tell she was trying hard to pretend she didn't care about anything, but when he helped her into the fine carriage he had hired for the remainder of the trip, he noticed how she ran her fingers over the plush velvet seats, the way her eyes took in the team of fine white horses with their bright red harnesses. Then, after glancing about to make sure Diablo was secured to the rear of the carriage, she settled back with an exaggerated sigh, as though bored with it all.

  Steve bit back a smile at her pretense, knowing she must have lived a hand-to-mouth existence all her life. Seth Greer's wages, either as an Indian agent or as the manager of a government trading post, had doubtless been just enough to survive on. Whatever money Ned had sent would have gone for bare essentials, with nothing left over for luxuries. And while any other girl would probably be drooling over the opportunity that awaited, Raven was so stubborn she'd sooner die than take advantage of it.

  Nothing would have suited him better than to ignore her all the way to Halcyon, but thinking how she was about to meet Lisbeth and Julius, he felt sorry for her and decided to prepare her a little, at least. "Remember I told you Ned's wife had two children when they married. Maybe you'd like to know something about them."

  "I won't be around long enough to care."

  "You might. Seeing you could give Ned a new lease on life. Maybe he'll live two or three years, who knows?" Steve had no idea that would happen, but he wanted to give her something to think about.

  She looked at him sharply. "You can't make me stay that long. Nobody can."

  "Don't worry. If you're as bratty to him as you are to me, he'll probably run you off by sundown."

  "Good." She folded her arms across her chest and lifted her chin a bit higher. "Then everyone will be happy."

  "Lisbeth and Julius are spoiled, used to having their own way and hard to get along with under the best of circumstances. They'll probably both fly through the roof when they find out about you, because they planned on inheriting everything Ned's got. I want you to let me know if they give you any trouble. I'll do what I can to smooth things over, but don't let Ned know if they do. He doesn't need the worry."

  "There won't be any. They'll soon learn I have no intention of taking anything from them." She closed her eyes and wished she could just fall asleep. Being with Steve was, as always, upsetting, especially when all she could think of was how the night before he had kissed someone as he had kissed her, had held another woman in his arms....

  Shaking her head to dispel the image, she tried to focus on the countryside, but it was just more of what she had already seen since they had reached the low country of the deep South. The land was flat, with moss-draped trees clustered in dark, swampy marshes. Now and then she had a glimpse of the lazy, muddy river, ever so often a ramshackle hut. There were no fields of green, and finally she remarked with a touch of scorn, "You talked about Halcyon as if it was paradise. All I see is swamp. How much farther till we reach my father's land?"

  "You're on it."

  She sat up straight to stare at him in disbelief.

  "You have been for the past half hour."

  "But—" She glanced about wildly. They were on a narrow road, hardly wider than a cow path, and marshes loomed dismally on both sides. "This is a wilderness."

  He chuckled. "That's all any of it was before Ned's grandfather cleared some fields. His father cleared even more. Evidently Ned was satisfied and didn't extend the farmland any farther. That's something you can do, if you like."

  Just then, they rounded a bend, and any response Raven might have been about to make was swallowed in her awed gasp at the seemingly endless landscape that came into view. Everywhere, as far as the eye could see in any direction, the earth was covered in a blanket of green. White, fluffy balls dotted one side, while, on the other, golden silks danced in the wind atop stalks stretching skyward.

  "Cotton and corn," Steve confirmed. "The fields go on for several miles."

  "But where is the house?"

  He pointed to the river, barely visibly beyond the cornstalks. "The land follows the river. The house is two bends away. Ned said it took over a year to build it, because his grandfather was afraid that the flat-lands would flood. So he dug lagoons in from the river and used the dirt to build a big hillock. It was a lot of work, but the spring floods have never been a threat to the house."

  Raven noticed how so many of the workers paused to wave as they passed, apparently glad to see Steve was back. He called a few by name. She also saw how they stared at her. "I guess they don't know who I am. Didn't anyone know you were going to look for me?"

  "Only Ned."

  "I guess not. He'd be too ashamed." She could not resist the barb.

  "Oh, that wouldn't have anything to do with it. He doesn't have to apologize to anyone
for anything. He just wouldn't figure it was any of their business."

  They rounded another bend in the road, and Raven saw different crops. She could identify tobacco plants, because some Indian tribes grew tobacco, but she was unfamiliar with the shorter leaves in another field.

  "Collards. Cabbage. Lettuce," Steve told her. "It takes a lot of vegetables for so many slaves, because Ned makes sure they're well fed. Over there"—he pointed—"beyond those trees, are the hog pens. Then there are pens for chickens and cows, and also a small dairy. You can't see the buildings from here, but there are all kinds of artisans at work—craftsmen for bricks, pottery, weaving; leather workers for saddles and bridles and shoes; even a greenhouse, because Ned likes to have fresh flowers in the house year-round. There's also a small winery.

  "Anything anyone could want is right here," he finished in admiration. "Halcyon is a town in its own right."

  Raven could not help but be impressed. "And my father runs all of it?"

  He laughed, not in ridicule but only at the idea that any one person could physically oversee such an operation. "Hardly. Like his grandfather and his father before him, Ned insists on competent overseers. There are parts of his land he probably hasn't visited in years. There's no need. He knows the men in charge are doing a good job, because they report once a week and give him a full report."

  "But if he's sick—"

  "Julius should be looking after things now," Steve said, "but I'm sure he hasn't lifted a finger. Thank goodness, most of the overseers can be trusted to carry on."

  "Where are the horses you talked about?"

  "Closer to the house. They're the only thing Ned sees to himself. He won't let the stable hands do a thing except clean the barns and feed them, under his direction or mine. I do all the training. That's another reason I was anxious to get back. Ned's not strong enough to look after the horses by himself."