Quicksilver Passion

by Georgina Gentry - Colorado 01 - Quicksilver Passion

  Keso made a noise as if he was considering. If she’s no older than that, she’s a little big for her age.”

  Big like me, Cherokee thought, and part Indian. He’d had a feeling in Buckskin Joe that Doc was holding something back, something he wasn’t telling Cherokee. And now he knew what it was.

  He stood listening, so torn with emotions, he didn’t know what to do. The piano and her high, sweet voice drifted on the still air. His heart told him to run into the Palace, and sweep them both up in his arms. On the other hand, Silver was evidently as rich and successful as ever if she could afford a governess for their child. What could he—a blind man with little money—offer her, unless he managed to get back what the big cracker had stolen? No, he couldn’t burden Silver. He almost wished he had not found her. To be so close and not be able to take her in his arms, carry her off, and make love to her was more than he could stand.

  Come on, Keso, let’s get away from here.”

  Wait, boss, that man you were askin’ about—he just came out of the Palace.”

  Jake Dallinger?”

  Yep, he’s walking off down the street now.”

  And suddenly Cherokee remembered where he had heard that name before; Iron Knife had mentioned him. Surely Silver wouldn’t be mixed up with a bad hombre like that. A thought occured to him. Keso, do you suppose he was just having a drink?”

  Don’t think so. The Palace ain’t open in the mornings.”

  Silver was singing again, a Stephen Foster song, the haunting, sad words drifting on the air.

  I dream of Jeannie with the light brown hair . . .”

  He had to be close to her if only for a moment. Keso let’s go over there.”

  You sure, boss?”

  He nodded and they crossed the street slowly. Cherokee stood in front of the bat-wing doors, listening to the piano, the high sweet voice with a little girl’s joining in. Oh God, if he could only see them!

  Keso, you stay right here. I’m going just inside the door.” He had to see her. He had to!

  Cherokee went in. With his blurred vision, he was aware of shapes like a stairway and poker tables. He could smell the usual saloon smells of whiskey and stale cigar smoke.

  And then he saw the outline of the two at a piano in the shadows. If only they would move out into the light. If only he could see better.

  ... many were the sweet notes her merry voice would pour, many were the blithe birds that warbled them o’er . . .”

  Her voice drew him like a moth to a flame. He must not let her see him, pity him. He was too proud to accept her charity. And besides, Silver must have changed since he had know her. The Silver he knew had a reputation for running a clean card game. No one was ever cheated or mugged when she ran the Nugget. Had she gotten mixed up with Jake Dallinger?

  Everything in him wanted to go to her, and take her in his arms. But he loved her too much to be a burden to her. He turned and hurried toward the daylight of the door. And in his haste, he stumbled over a chair.

  By damn! He ran outside. Keso, get me out of here quick!”

  You steal something, boss?”

  Keso, let’s go!”

  The tone of his voice must have startled the boy because Keso grabbed his hand and led him at a trot down the wooden sidewalk.

  Hey, boss.” He felt Keso turn and look over his shoulder. That little girl came outside and is watching us leave.”

  Just don’t look back!” Cherokee said. He was so completely undone, he had Keso lead him back to his hotel, and then the little boy went off to shine shoes for the afternoon, promising to return later.

  Cherokee flopped on the bed and shook. Now what in the hell was he going to do? The man he was after must be connected to Silver somehow, yet Cherokee couldn’t deal with Jake because of his eyesight, Maybe if he stayed and waited, his eyes would improve enough to get Dallinger. But the longer he stayed, the bigger risk he ran that Silver would see him somewhere. Cherokee would rather be dead then accept her pity.

  Silver turned as Waanibe jumped from the piano bench and ran through the bat-wing doors. Wannie? Come back here!”

  She got up from the piano and hurried out on the sidewalk, grabbing the child by the hand. You aren’t suppose to go out alone.”

  I was looking at the man.”

  Silver glanced around but didn’t see anything. What man?”

  The man who came in the saloon and stood at the back watching us.”

  That was unusual. Why would anyone do that? What did the man look like?”

  Big man,” Waanibe said, and grinned adorably. Part Indian. Could he be my daddy?”

  Silver shook her head absently, her mind busy. Tell me more about him.”

  Waanibe described him and told how he had hurried away with an Indian boy.

  Could it be? She made Waanibe describe the man again. Silver fought an urge to run after him, screaming his name. Instead she collspsed on the steps. For more than three years now, she had turned and stared at every big-framed man who passed, looked at any man who was dark and rugged, expecting that when he drew close, it would be the one she loved. And now perhaps she had found him, or rather, he had found her. Waanibe’s description left no doubt in Silver’s heart.

  How had he tracked her here? Doc? Had someone passing through Denver told Cherokee where to find her? She had thought her drab governess disguise was so good because it had fooled Jake Dallinger.

  There was no question in her mind about what had just happened. Cherokee had come looking for her, had seen her, and fled. He didn’t want her now that he had seen she was no longer beautiful. Somehow deep in her heart, she had nourished the tiniest flicker of hope that it might not make a difference—he had said something like that to her once. But in the end, he was just like all the other men. Beauty was everything to them, and what a woman was like—really like deep inside—didn’t matter if she didn’t have a pretty face.

  Tears came to her eyes and she closed them, remembering that one night, the way he had made love to her and kissed her palm. Here’s a treasure to save for when you need it. He was just like the others after all. Damn him! Damn him for it!

  Silvery, are you crying?” Two little arms around her neck.

  No—no, of course not! I—I just got somethingin my eye, drat it all!”

  You look awfully sad. Let me give you a treasure.”

  Silver automatically put out her hand, and this time, the child put a shiny penny in it.

  Silvery, you can buy some candy with this treasure.”

  Silver laughed and hugged the child to her. You rascal, I think we’d better go upstairs and work on our alphabet. Candy later!”

  Silver could hardly keep her mind on anything the rest of the day. When she and her small charge went out for candy, Silver found herself searching every street and building for Cherokee, half hoping, half dreading that she would run into him. After all, he’d already had one look at her and rejected her. She wouldn’t be able to stand the humiliation of seeing him someplace and having him turn away.

  Waanibe pulled her sleeve. There’s the boy the man was with.”

  Where?” She looked where Waanibe pointed. A handsome Indian boy about ten or twelve years old was polishing boots on the street corner. He looked like a typical tough streetwise kid. What was his connection to Cherokee? Could he possibly be Cherokee’s son? Did that make any sense? This child looked like a full-blood. But maybe Cherokee had an Indian wife. If so, he had sired this child before he met Silver—the boy’s age told her that.

  Stay here, Wannie.” She left the little girl in the candy shop, and ran across the street. Hey you, I want to talk to you.”

  For a minute, she thought the boy would grab his shoeshine box and run. She saw doubt and fear in his face.Whatever it is, miss, I didn’t do it.”

  Her heart went out to him. Although he was older than Waanibe, he was certainly as neglected. If he was Cherokee’s son, how could he allow the boy to live this way?

  You’re not i
n any trouble,” Silver assured him. You know me?”

  Sure, I seen you around. You’re the governess for that cute kid that belongs to the Duchess.”

  What’s your name, son? Where’s your mother?”

  He shook his dark head. She’s dead. They call me Keso, it’s Cheyenne for Fox.”

  Did he look at all like Cherokee? She fished around in her pocket, and handed him a dime.

  You want your shoes shined, miss? I don’t often do ladies—”

  No, Keso, I want some information about that man who was with you this morning.”

  Immediately a guarded, suspicious expression crossed the handsome brown face. He held the dime out solemnly. If I got to get Cherokee into trouble to earn this . . .”

  So it was him. She hadn’t been mistaken. He’s not in any trouble,” she assured him. Keep the dime. I want to know about that man. He—he may be an old friend.”

  The boy scuffed his ragged moccasins in the dust of the sidewalk. His name is Cherokee, and he’s not from here. He’s been asking about the Duchess and the little girl.”

  Why would he do that?”

  The boy shook his head. I don’t know, miss.”

  Silver stared down at him, her mind busy. Why would Cherokee be curious about the woman and her child? A memory came back to her. The Duchess had said her daughter was fathered by a half-breed lover. Oh, God, could she have meant Cherokee? Had he come to see an old mistress and his daughter, then fled in confusion because he suddenly recognized Silver and didn’t want her to see him? She wanted some answers. Keso, what hotel is the man in?”

  You sure he ain’t in any trouble?”

  No, I just want to talk to him.”

  The Essex, miss. But maybe there’s something you should know . . .”

  What?”

  He hesitated, biting his lip. Never mind.”

  She was too upset to do more than nod at him, whirl, and flee back across the street to Wannie in the candy shop. Tonight when it was too dark for Cherokee to see her face plainly, Silver intended to get to the bottom of this!

  Chapter Seventeen

  Silver waited until after dark when Wannie was in bed and business at the Palace was in full swing. Then she put on her cloak, slipped down the back stairs, and out into the night. Silver was still afraid of the dark, but there was a harvest moon on this crisp night, and in her prim disguise, no man looked twice at her, much less tried to bother her.

  It took all the nerve she had to mount those stairs at the Essex and stop before his door. Silver took a deep breath. How could she bear to have him see her face? Then she noted how softly the light glowed from under the door, almost as if he were sitting before the fireplace in the dark. If only he wouldn’t light the lamps, he need never know.

  Then she lost her nerve. She couldn’t do it, couldn’t have him see her this way. Let him live with the memory of her as she had been—if she had ever meant anything to him at all. A board creaked under her foot as she turned and walked away.

  Like most people with sight problems, Cherokee’s hearing had become acute. He had been sitting staring into the glow of the fireplace when he heard a board squeak outside his door. Someone passing by? A thief checking to see if he was in?

  Throwing caution to the wind, he went to the door and threw it open. Nothing. And then the faintest scent of wild flowers came to his nose. He ran out into the hall, forgetting that he didn’t want her to know of his handicap. Silver? Silver, is that you? Come back!”

  He could barely make out a slim form at the end of the hall. If he didn’t have to light the lamp, she need never know he was all but blind.

  Silver stopped, trying to decide what to do. The hallway was barely lit by a coal oil fixture at each end. He wouldn’t be able to see her face. She would turn and say a few words to him, pretend she cared nothing for him. Then maybe he wouldn’t come back to the Palace and she wouldn’t have to risk having him see her ruined beauty. In the seconds before she hesitated and turned around, a million possibilities ran through her mind. Tomorrow she would flee Denver so he would never see her. Tomorrow ...

  But oh dear God, there was tonight—only tonight.

  Cherokee?” She stood in the shadows of the dim hall as did he. For an electrifying second, they stared at each other and then she forgot everything, everything but him. With a glad cry, she ran down the hall and into his outstretched arms.

  Silver! Silver, is it really you?” He crushed her against his wide chest as he lifted her off the floor and his mouth claimed hers, dominating, consuming with inner fire. I’ve waited so long for this ... dreamed only of this!”

  She didn’t want to think, she wanted only to feel, to experience the joy of love, of being loved. She let him crush her against him as if he were trying to pull her inside his very soul, and she kissed him again and again, dizzy with the scent of his tobacco and shaving soap and the salty, masculine taste of him. His shirt was rough against her face and his big hands burned into the small of her back. Oh Cherokee, if you only knew how many times I’ve dreamed of this moment back in Buckskin Joe, dreamed of you riding in and me running out to meet you!”

  A salesman came down the hall, stared at them curiously, and went on.

  Cherokee said, I think we need to get out of the hall.”

  He swung her up in his arms and carried her inside his room, kicking the door shut. Sweet darlin’, I won’t light the lamps, I want it to be as it was that long ago night, the moon full as a gold piece and you in my arms.”

  She felt only relief as he sat her on the bed. At least they had tonight before he discovered her secret, and tomorrow seemed like a century away. He knelt on the floor before her, taking her small face between his two big hands. I’ve tried to forget you, Silver, but I can’t. Whenever I closed my eyes, your face slipped into my dreams like the scent of your perfume.”

  There was so much she wanted to ask, so many things to be said, and yet it was enough to say nothing at all—just to be and stay here in his strong arms, held protectively against his chest.

  With the dawn she must leave forever, so he would never see her. But tonight he saw her only with his hands, his lips, his heart, and he must never know the truth. Tomorrow she would pack her things and run away. There was nothing else to be done. She didn’t want his pity. Oh, Cherokee, my dearest, may I stay with you, be with you all night?”

  He kissed her eyelids gently. Will they miss you at the Palace? Are you needed there?”

  She thought of her little charge, tucked safely asleep in her bed. No, they’ll manage without me. They’ll never know I’m gone.”

  She melted into his arms, opening her lips so that he might caress her mouth with his tongue. This was their moment in time—the last time she would ever have with him—and it was more than she had expected. The memory would have to last forever. She didn’t know if he really loved her or if he had ever loved anyone else, but it didn’t matter. Tonight, as his hand reached to undo the small buttons at her throat, he was hers and hers alone.

  For a long moment, his hand caressed her throat. He laughed softly. What did you do to your hair?”

  She reached self-consciously to pull the hairpins from the tight bun, and shook it loose to fall about her shoulders. In the glowing darkness, she thought the shadows would keep him from realizing the drab, dyed color.

  He undid her bodice, pushed the sleeves off her shoulders, bent his head to kiss the pulse of her throat, and brushed along her shoulders with his warm lips until every nerve in her body seemed alive—no, on fire—with the wanting of him. She found herself trembling.

  No, you quicksilver nymph, I won’t be hurried with the taking. I’ve waited and dreamed of this moment for more than three long years and I intend that for both of us, it will last and last.” His fingers caught the lace of her chemise and slipped it off her shoulders so that her breasts filled his hands like full ripe fruit. He leaned toward her slightly so that she lay back on her elbows and threw back her head, offering her
bare breasts up to him in sweet surrender.

  He pushed them together with his palms and bent his head to the deep crevice. You always have the scent of flowers,” he whispered as he put his face against the cleft and took a deep breath. The heat of his breathing seemed almost to burn her skin and then his tongue flicked along the valley and caressed her breasts. Silver gasped and felt her nipples swell with desire and she arched up, offering them like a sacrifice to his greedy, sucking mouth.

  He lay her down on the bed and she pulled his body against her mouth, nibbling at his nipples while he groaned and her hand went to stroke his throbbing hardness.

  Oh God, Silver!” he gasped, and then he reached to undo his pants, took her hand in his, and covered his hot manhood with her hand. He felt big and hard and throbbing in her fingers and the aroused scent of him drove her wild.

  Then his hand stroked her thigh to her lace underthings. She almost tried to stop him, but he whispered, You’re mine, Silver, surrender to me, sweet darlin’, submit and let me thrill you!”

  All she could do was let her thighs fall apart while he caressed and stroked her. She felt it coming on and began to tremble.

  Not yet!” he commanded. Not yet, sweet . . . hold off until you can’t stop it any more than you can stop a prairie fire from blazing out of control.”

  She tried to hold off as he stroked her but then she couldn’t control her body, couldn’t stop its convulsions, and the heat rose up her body until it roared out of control and nothing could stop it.

  She lay there, breathing heavily through her mouth, watching him in the dim light while he unclothed her a little at a time, almost as if it were a ritual, prolonging but heightening his own desire while her own quicksilver passion rose and deepened. He pulled her shoes off, and worked her silk stockings down her thighs and slim legs with excruciating slowness, his fingers caressing her skin. He held one of her little feet between his hands and kissed the instep. Such tiny feet—no bigger than a child’s.” He kissed along the arch of her foot, nibbled on her toes, and then kissed his way back up her legs with deliberate slowness. Do you still have the silver slippers?”