Shawnee's Creek

by Stephy Smith

  “I never said anything about sharing.” Emory’s eyes blazed with annoyance.

  “You have a wild reputation. I won’t be one of your flits in the night. Rumors of your carousing set doubts in my mind. That’s all I have to say on the matter.” Her words were more convincing when she said them aloud.

  “I never thought you’d be one to succumb to gossip, Shawnee.” He stood and walked around the end of her desk. “Is that why you left? Did it ever occur to you to ask me how I felt? Or to ask me about my private life? You had to listen to others and left me stranded like a one-legged ape.” Emory kissed her on the top of the head. He left the door open. She let out the breath she held.

  “Hey, Emory, we got all the trucks unloaded and cleared from the drive. Just checking in with Shawnee.” Cheyenne’s chipper voice drifted on the air.

  “Hello, Cheyenne. How did last night go?” Shawnee eyed her sister. Cheyenne closed in on the desk and slunk in the chair.

  “It was fantastic, Shawnee. I won’t ever tire of that man.” Shawnee gazed at Cheyenne’s lovelorn face.

  “Did y’all go to a movie, out to supper, to the bar? I want answers, Cheyenne. You said you’d tell me all, but I don’t want to hear any sex stuff.” Shawnee’s eyes shifted to the door where Emory had stood.

  Cheyenne shifted in the chair. “After the anniversary party, we went cow tippin’. I’ll tell you about it later. Right now, I hear cows calling my name. I’ll drop by when we get done with the sale.” Cheyenne jumped from the chair and ran from the office.

  Shawnee kept busy with the tickets. Carla handed out checks to the sellers, and the office grew silent. Carla let out a loud sigh, looked at Shawnee and said, “I’m beat. I’m going home. You coming?”

  “I have a few things to finish up. You go on ahead. Have a nice evening, Carla.” Shawnee turned back to her desk to tidy up. Exhaustion consumed her. The stress of emotions throughout the day weighed down on her shoulders.

  The click of the door startled Shawnee. Her heart pounded at the voice behind her. She turned into the long, hard body of Emory. His nearness drained her senses as his lips crushed down on hers before she could pull away.

  Her mind said no, to back off, but her body refused to obey its demand. Emory’s arms wrapped around her and held her tight against him. His kiss deepened and her body melted into his. One of his hands rose to her neck and caressed her skin. An emotional trail blazed her senses.

  Shawnee pulled him closer. She let her fingers glide over his taut muscles. Her moan was swallowed by his determined mouth. He followed the tenderness down her neck. He kissed his way to the hollow of her throat and then made his way to just behind the earlobe. Her breathing labored, and she was sure she couldn’t resist his temptations any longer.

  His hand slid down her neck to the button on her blouse. She leaned back far enough to give him room to unbutton it. His hand slid under her bra strap. Her breath held at the fire he blazed across her skin.

  Her office door flew open. Emory tried to remove his hand. His horseshoe shaped ring caught on the inside of the strap. His face flamed red.

  Heat blazed to her cheeks. Pounding in her chest rushed to her ears as a lump formed in her throat. Suffocating in the flames of desire, she was put out by the intrusion. Her anger dissipated as reality set in. It could have been worse; the intruder could have been one of the cow hands. Shawnee stammered, “What is it, Cheyenne?”

  “I’m…Mason’s waiting. We’re going home. Call me later.” The door slammed shut. Shawnee turned her face back to Emory.

  A smiled played across his face. “I think she took that well, don’t you?”

  Shawnee let her forehead fall on his chest. “How did you get tangled up in my bra? Sure would hate to send you home with the thing stuck on your ring.”

  “This office isn’t safe for us. There’s a motel on this end of town, we could. . .” The old feelings rushed her all at once. Rumors burned in her mind at how he had taken the women before her to the motel to keep them from knowing where he lived shouted out in her mind. Gossip about things he did before she met him and had nothing to do with her or the relationship they had together drowned her in her own guilt.

  Shawnee’s head snapped. She yanked his hand free and buttoned her shirt. “I told you, I’m not that kind of girl, Emory. And I won’t allow you to ruin my reputation for one of your quick fix-me-ups in a motel.” Her own words betrayed her as it was the only excuse she could come up with to escape the feelings he brought back to life. Love.

  Shawnee grabbed her keys and hurried out the door. Emory called after her. “What did I do now? Come on, Shawnee, give me a break.”

  Shawnee slammed her pickup into drive and pressed heavily on the gas. She looked in the mirror to see the dust clear. Emory lowered his arms from his face. The only way to stop being hurt was to prevent anyone getting close to her. Her anger rose to a boil as she realized all these years she pushed anyone away that threatened to inch their way into her heart. She had used every excuse she could find to stop the forward advance of having a meaningful relationship with the man she loved.

  “Take me to a motel. That’ll be the day you go to the fire pit, Emory Creek, and you’re pushing that situation pretty hard,” Shawnee yelled at the small image in the rearview mirror. “Why would you think I’d be interested in being one of your who-knows-what you call them? You might have some disease I can’t wash off, and you think I’d enjoy laying my life on the line for one romp in the sack.” She ranted as she drove down the dark highway to her house. Tears stained her cheeks. Anger consumed her soul. The horrid reality of ruining the relationship branded her heart.

  Shawnee slammed on the brakes in front of the garage. She got out and lifted the garage door to cool her emotions, almost running through the door with the tantrum she threw. The cool air felt good as she sucked in a big breath. Shawnee returned to the pickup and eased it into the garage.

  She pushed the garage door button and entered the house, slamming the door behind her. Her keys clanked on the kitchen counter. Shawnee stomped into the living room before she noticed the two heads pop up over the back of the couch.

  “Uh, hi, Shawnee,” Cheyenne glanced at Mason and then back to her.

  “I’m going to my room. If the phone rings, I’m not here. What are you doing here anyway?” Shawnee slammed the door behind her without waiting for an answer. She paced her room and dropped her clothes to the floor, walked out to her hot tub, and sank down into the calm relief of the jets. I need to have a talk with Cheyenne. They live in their own house now. When I come home I don’t expect to see someone in my house.

  Fuming for a while, Shawnee finally let the warm water encase her. She relaxed and enjoyed the solitude of the warm water, listening to the crickets and cars screeching around corners. The occasional sound of sirens and laughter filtered into her back yard.

  Oh, what she wouldn’t give to be on the ranch. If she wanted to scream, she could and not disrupt the lives of her neighbors. To be able to saddle her horse and head off into a safe fantasyland and watch the sun rise or set. She could breathe in the fresh air without the smell of gasoline or diesel floating in the air.

  She lifted her heavy limbs from the water, wrapped her towel around her, and walked to her computer on the desk. “I’ll find my haven in the country. Someday I’ll have a place to myself, and no one will need to know where it is.” She draped across the bed and stared at the stars. Her insecurities twisted into a tangled web she built herself. If only she could have stayed at the ranch she wouldn’t have to face the loneliness she was building around herself. Her anger turned to Shuman for selling the land in the first place. She quickly admonished those feelings as the problem didn’t lie in others, it was her.

  The edge of the bed sank. Shawnee jumped around to see Cheyenne perched beside her. “What’s wrong?” Cheyenne’s hand rested on Shawnee’s shoulder.

  “I don’t know. I just felt like crying.” Shawnee made a poor attempt to
smile.

  “I’m telling Mason to go on home, and I’ll stay here with you tonight.” Cheyenne stood to leave.

  “No, you need to be with your husband.” Shawnee grabbed Cheyenne’s arm and twirled her around.

  “I can’t leave you here like this.” Cheyenne tried to pull her arm free. “You were always there for me.”

  “Look, Cheyenne. We’ve both been through a lot in our lives. I needed to vent. This is how I deal with my problems. I had a perfectly good life in Colorado up until Shuman sold out. Then I had to come back here and face all the things I should have faced before I left. I’m just so mad at myself I don’t know what to do except cry.” Shawnee softened to Cheyenne. “Now go home with your husband. He needs you more than I do. Got it?”

  Shawnee watched Cheyenne and Mason drive away. She went to her bathroom and wet a rag with cold water, wiped her face, and headed to the kitchen for a bowl of cereal.

  She was embarrassed Cheyenne caught her bawling her eyes out without a reason. Fits of fire, Cheyenne, what were you doing here anyway? I would’ve held back everything if I’d known you’d be here.

  For the second time, she opened Cheyenne’s door and searched her bathroom. She prayed everything was all right between Mason and her sister. She regretted not asking. It had been so long since she and her sister’d had a chance to talk. She hoped everything was good for them.

  Shawnee fell into the old routine with ease it sent strange chills down her spine. The old habit of looking in on Cheyenne proved hard to break. Satisfied Cheyenne wasn’t in the house, every morning she drove to work with the radio playing low. When she pulled into the lot, her heart drummed a little faster. She took a deep breath and walked into the office.

  “Have you seen Cheyenne this morning?” Shawnee asked when Carla walked in.

  “Yeah, she’s been here a few hours. Emory called her in early to unload trucks. The night man didn’t show up. Emory is hot as usual. He came in this morning and found trucks packed in the lot again waiting to be unloaded.” Carla tossed a stack of tickets on her desk. “I’ll be searching for a night man by this afternoon. What do you want to bet?”

  Shawnee’s deep desire to explain her actions to Emory fell to the wayside. There was no way he would listen to her now if he was already in a foul mood. She could wait for another day when her nerves were stronger and his attitude was half-bearable. Her work dragged her mind away from him for a few hours.

  Emory had the right to know what she felt, why she reacted the ways she did and it had nothing to do with him.

  ****

  After two weeks of not talking to the man, she thought he would be groveling at her feet by now after his confession that he wouldn’t give up without a fight. But he hadn’t, and she sure wasn’t going to beg him for his attention. She’d adjusted to the silent arrangement well this time. At least she hadn’t cried for two weeks straight.

  “Mason won’t be in today,” Cheyenne poked her head in Shawnee’s office. “He went to his grandma’s wedding. Her seventh husband, and she lives in the nursing home in Albuquerque. You wanna have lunch?”

  “Sure. Hey, do you need some help out there?” Shawnee straightened with hope.

  “I could use you. When you get done with the paperwork, just come on out.” Cheyenne hurried through the door.

  Shawnee caught up her work and walked the alley toward her sister. Cheyenne waved and continued sorting cattle. The air held the pungent smell of cow and horse manure. Blackbirds perched on the fence rails and the backs of penned livestock. Cowboys lined alleyways, swinging their ropes in the air and talking among themselves as they waited their turns in the sale ring.

  Mason walked up to the sisters. “Grandma’s fiancée died last night. She’s taking it pretty good.”

  “Shawnee, you can stay and help for a while. Long enough for us to get caught up anyway.” Cheyenne smiled.

  “Do the two of you have time for a break? I need to talk.” Shawnee caught the nod Mason gave to Cheyenne before he walked away.

  “What is it Shaw? I have never seen you this low before. I knew something was wrong when you came out here to help.” Cheyenne laid her hand on Shawnee’s arm.

  “I’m pretty sure I ruined things for good with Emory. Cheyenne, all these years since mom and dad died I have tried to be strong for everyone. I shoved off my own feelings to watch over everyone else so I wouldn’t have to deal with pain and loss. I want to be able to love deeply. I don’t want to be lonely the rest of my life. I want to believe I can trust someone will be there every day to love me as much as I do them. And most of all, I’m tired of blaming my ignorance on people who don’t deserve it like Emory, you, Mason and Mr. Shuman. Y’all are all the family I have and I push y’all away refusing to let my heart soar with the eagles. I’m afraid of being hurt again.” Shawnee gazed at Cheyenne.

  “I know. I have watched you batter yourself. You have run from yourself in every direction you can go and now you have years of problems that were simple when they happened. They have piled on you like a mountain and only you can dig your way out. Talk to Emory, he has seen it too. That’s why he never lost faith in you while you were gone.”

  Shawnee lowered her head and closed her eyes. The hand on her arm let go but was quickly replaced by a much larger hand. She raised her eyes and gazed into the brightest, most forgiving eyes she had ever seen.

  “Emory. I was…” his strong arm wrapped around her and pulled her to his chest.

  “I heard it all, Shawnee. There is nothing more to say except I love you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Cheyenne rode her horse next to the gate. She reached down to pull the handle and release the bull caged inside. The bull bellowed out his disapproval. Shawnee’s ease of being around livestock was tested. She knew the critter could and would develop a nasty mood at any given time, so she moved closer to the fence.

  Her spirits rose as she now worked out back from time to time. She felt as if she had a grip on her life for the first time in years. The sun beat down on the brim of her hat. Emory checked on her occasionally, but didn’t smother her with his nearness. Life was good.

  The black longhorn bull ran toward Cheyenne. In an instant, he was on her. The bull’s head went up and gored the horse in the side. Cheyenne fell as the horse crumpled to its knees. A horn stuck in Cheyenne’s neck. The bull turned and headed down the alley toward Shawnee and two men on horseback.

  “Cheyenne! Cheyenne!” Her mouth went dry; she gasped and held her breath. Shawnee’s heart turned into a thunderous turmoil. She ran through the mud and muck toward her sister. Her legs grew heavy and slow motion played out a scenario of helplessness, sadness and extreme heart-crushing pain.

  Tears held on the rims of Shawnee’s eyes. The bull charged forward with more power in each step. She gasped. Her mind went blank. For less than a second, she froze. Red horns glistened in the sun with fresh blood. Shawnee’s mind jolted.

  Shawnee ran to a gate and slammed it just in time. The bull’s horns stuck through the gap between the rails. The beast fought, slinging slobber and snot. She ran to the massive bovine, pulled a knife from her jeans and cut its throat. The bull went down, freeing its horns as the blood pulsed from his body.

  Shawnee ran to her sister. She hit the ground on her knees and pulled Cheyenne to her chest. “Call emergency! We need an ambulance now!” her voice echoed down the alley.

  A river of tears flowed down her face. Racks of pain cut deep to numb her soul. She held her sister, begging her to cling to life. All matter of time faded into and endless sea of numbness.

  “Someone get Mason over here quick!” Emory’s panicked voice boomed behind her.

  “He’s not here. He had to take his horse to the vet. I’m trying to reach him now.” A distant voice called out.

  The rush of footsteps invaded her space. A backboard laid on the ground and a hand stretched to take Cheyenne’s wrist. A doctor who was also a cattle buyer knelt at her side and pronounced
Cheyenne as deceased. He flipped open his cell phone and requested the funeral home to pick up the body.

  She squinted through blurred vision as he shook his head.

  She knew it was too late, but she wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet.

  “She’s gone, Shawnee.” The warmth of Emory’s shaking hand on her shoulder was gentle. Shawnee continued to will her sister to live. She refused to accept Emory’s low, sad words. He was right. The doctor was too. There was nothing more to be done. Shawnee sat rocking back and forth, clutching Cheyenne until the blood slowed.

  Shawnee looked at him through damp eyes and with trembling lips said, “I want to take her through the ring one last time. When we started to work here, she gave me the courage to walk through those doors. The least I can do is escourt her out one last time.” How could this have happened? It seemed like only yesterday when Cheyenne’s life took a turn for the best. She had the whole world cheering her on. She met and married the man of her dreams.

  Emory handed Shawnee the reins to his horse. He coaxed Cheyenne’s lifeless body from Shawnee’s arms. Mason stopped beside her, panting as he reached for his wife. Mason held tight refusing to let her go. Shawnee stepped back to let her brother-in-law say good bye. She couldn’t imagine the pain he was going through. All she knew was it was different than hers.

  Shawnee mounted the horse and waited for Mason and Emory to lift Cheyenne up to her. After his tears slowed, they hefted the lifeless body to Shawnee. She held Cheyenne close and started the long, slow trip down the alley to the ring. She sat straight in the saddle, letting the tears roll down her cheeks to fall on her blood-soaked blouse. Mason rode his horse beside her, holding his wife’s hand.

  Cowboy after cowboy on horses lined the alley lowering their hats as Shawnee passed. She listened to the hooves as they fell in behind her. The entourage entered the sale ring where buyers stood. They held their hats in their hands as they lowered their heads. The auctioneer stood silent with head bowed. The stillness filled the ring with sad thickness and respect for the loss. Shawnee and Mason stopped the horses in the center of the ring.