Broken Feather

by Jeanie P Johnson

  “I see you put the tent up,” she said, glancing over at it.

  “It should be suitable enough for you,” he told her. “I will sleep under the wagon.”

  “Why? It is not like we have not slept next to each other before,” she complained, not wanting to be by herself all of a sudden.

  “It just seems proper,” he informed her.

  “After all we have been through together, and all of a sudden you wish to be proper?” she almost gasped.

  “I didn’t think you would desire me to share the tent with you.”

  “Yet you only brought one tent,” she pointed out.

  “I didn’t expect to need to use it. I am used to sleeping out under the sky at night.”

  “Actually, I have never slept in a tent before, but it couldn’t be much different than sleeping in the wagon, which we did together,” she pointed out.

  “I did enjoy sleeping next to you, only you are about to be married to someone, and I will be going on my way, once that happens.”

  “It is not like I am in love with the man I will be forced to marry, and will be betraying him by sleeping next to another man. In fact, if there was any way I could get out of it, I would. Maybe if he learned we slept in the same tent together, he would decide he didn’t want to marry me after all,” she said slyly.

  “He would probably shoot me, if that was the case, even if he didn’t marry you. You know very well what he would think.”

  “I wouldn’t let him shoot you,” she insisted.

  “I just don’t think it would be wise,” he murmured, yet he did not remove his arm from her waist.

  “None of this is wise, if you ask me. Even marrying some rancher does not seem wise to me. I just don’t want to be alone. You are the only friend I have right now.”

  “At one point you didn’t want anything to do with me,” he reminded her.

  “That was before I discovered what a thoughtful person you could be. You carried me for miles without even complaining!”

  “I would carry you farther than that if necessary,” he told her. “You weigh practically nothing!”

  “Don’t make me sleep all alone,” she pouted, looking up at him.

  Broken Feather turned his head and lowered it, wanting so much to touch those lips again, only he knew he would be asking for trouble if he weakened.

  Vanessa lifted her hand to his cheek. “Please,” she begged, caressing his cheek with her fingers.

  His heart took a summersault, at her touch, and he took her hand in his and brought her palm to his lips and kissed it. “Since you claim you are in command, perhaps I have no choice,” he mumbled as his resistance started to crumble.

  “Thank you,” she breathed, timidly pulling her hand from his. “Wait until I have a chance to put my nightdress on and I will call you,” she told him, turning from him and going to the tent.

  When Broken Feather heard her call him, he tried to still his heart that was beating out of control. He could barely breath, knowing he would be spending yet another night, with Vanessa, snugly in his arms. His wildest dreams were starting to come true and he was starting to believe in miracles after all.

  Broken Feather, ducked into the tent, and crawled under the blanket beside Vanessa. She turned to face him, placing her head on his bare chest, listening to his heart beating rapidly against her ear He could feel her fingers, tracing over the muscles of his chest.

  “You have beautiful muscles,” she murmured. “We used to have slaves that had muscles like yours. I always admired them for their strength. It makes me feel safe, knowing you are strong and capable.”

  “You know I am here to protect you,” he reminded her.

  “And so far, you have done that,” she praised.

  Broken Feather, found his fingers begin to become tangled in her curls, running his fingers through the soft strands, leaning his head down to breathe in the fragrance of her hair.

  “The Indians believe the hair is the soul, which is why they never cut their hair, or they would be losing part of their soul,” he told her. “You have a lovely soul.”

  “So do you,” she returned, reaching up and placing her fingers in his hair as well.

  The feel of her fingers in his hair excited him, and he allowed his arms to encircle her, pulling her closer to him, liking the feel of her body, through the thin material of her nightdress, pressing against his own body. He could hear her sigh and give a little whimper as he tightened his hold on her.

  Vanessa’s own heart quickened as Broken Feather snuggled her against his, strong, hard body. It made her feel small and vulnerable. She simpered as she felt his hand that wasn’t entangled in her hair, smooth over her hip, caressing her through the material of her night dress, sending a shower of sparks throughout her body. Then he was turning her, pressing himself against her, as he found her lips, and nibbled against them.

  Vanessa felt helpless to resist him, and allowed his kiss to progress into a passion that was taking her by storm, pulling at her soul and causing her to clutch tighter to him, encouraging him to plunder her mouth with his.

  Broken Feather began to lose himself in the taste and feel of her lips as his mouth hungered for more, seeking more, abandoning his resolve to keep himself from becoming emotionally involved. He was already sure he had loved her the moment he saw her, and she was responding to his kiss in a way that only heightened his desire.

  His hands ached to feel her bare skin against his palms, but he restrained himself. He was already too deeply involved by just kissing her. His kisses warmed them, lighting a fire that longed to consume the both of them. When he felt her tremble beneath his lips he was contented beyond explanation. However, he knew in the morning they would have to wake from their dream.

  Vanessa did not feel ashamed that she allowed Broken Feather to kiss her the way he was. She marveled at how he was making her feel, and craved more of his kisses, knowing it was wrong, but not caring. Soon she would be married to some stranger whom she may despise. In the back of her mind, she knew this could never last, and the short time she would be able to experience Broken Feather this way, was all she could look forward to.

  Eventually, she fell asleep in his arms, having had something awoken in her in a way she had never dreamed possible. Broken Feather hugged her to him, knowing he was treading on thin ice, vowing to refrain from violating her, making sure she remained a virgin for her future husband so he would never suspect she had been with a man. It was a sure thing Broken Feather could never become her husband, so he tried to remind himself, to hold himself back because this could never last.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  As the journey continued, there was no more threat of rain. During the day the wagon trudged forward, slowly, while the shaft to the hitch held. At night, Broken Feather held Vanessa in his arms, but restrained from doing more than kissing her goodnight, or stroking her hair, as he held her against him, wishing she could be his completely. The closer they got to their destination, the more forlorn he felt, knowing he would eventually have to turn his back on Vanessa and, most likely, never see her again.

  The countryside slowly began to change into greener grass and rolling hills. They crossed another river, where they stopped to bathe, and though Broken Feather longed to bathe with Vanessa, he gave her the privacy she deserved and held his desires at bay. He could tell that she was starting to become nervous, the closer they came to their destination.

  “There must be a way I can get out of this marriage,” she wailed to Broken Feather, as she lay in his arms at night.

  “You have no choice. Where would you go? Who would care for you?” he mumbled back.

  “You are right. I can’t go back to the plantation, so even if you could take me someplace else, there is no one to take me in.”

  “I am sure it will not be as bad as you fear,” he tried to sooth her, while trying to sooth himself as well. Thinking of having another man holding Vanessa, the way he was at the moment, pained his heart.


  When they finally looked upon the ranch in the distance, Vanessa took a deep breath, and tried to stop herself from shaking, sitting a little closer to Broken Feather on the wagon bench, and clutching his arm.

  The ranch house sat up against hills in the background with shade trees surrounding it. It sprawled out to accommodate, either a large family, or ranch hands living there. It boasted a large barn and several outbuildings, corrals where horses were kept, and in the distance roaming cattle could be seen beyond the main ranch area. The house itself was painted white, with a wraparound porch. The main part of the building, in the center, had a second floor, while the two wings, on either side, were single story.

  As the wagon started down the well-worn drive, leading to the ranch, chickens, pecking for food, flapped their wings to escape the wheels of the wagon, as it approached the ranch house. They saw that someone had come out onto the front porch, with a rifle in his hands to see who was arriving.

  Vanessa assumed it must be Jason Mills, and sat a little straighter, pulling away from Broken Feather, not wanting her future husband to suspect that if she had a choice, she would stay with Broken Feather, while all the time knowing, that too was an impossibility. The tall, dark-headed man glared at them as the wagon came to a stop, and Broken Feather, jumped down from the seat, helping Vanessa to dismount. Jason’s features softened when his eyes lit upon Vanessa.

  Before they had reached the ranch, Vanessa had put on a fresh dress with all her petticoats in place, along with stockings and stylish shoes on her feet. She looked like some exotic flower, transplanted into a wild setting, as she stepped down from the wagon.

  “I see you have arrived safely,” Jason stated, as he leaned his rifle against the wall and approached them. “Your father was correct when he claimed you were a beauty,” he murmured, taking Vanessa’s gloved hand and kissing it. “I hope you had a pleasant journey out here.”

  “Actually, it was quite horrid!” Vanessa drawled. “We were almost swept away by a flash-flood, and had Broken Feather not helped me up to the top of a bluff, I may not be standing here today.”

  “I appreciate Broken Feather’s efforts at keeping you safe,” he said, barely glancing at Broken Feather. “I am sure you wish to rest, but since I have been expecting you, I invited the local preacher to be here when you arrived, so he could perform the marriage, making everything all proper, now that you are here.”

  “Oh, mercy, I thought I would be able to get to know you better first.” Vanessa complained.

  “I thought it best that we should get married as soon as possible, since you are a single lady, staying under my roof. The agreement had already been made, so I see no reason for putting it off. Since Preacher Jones has been here a couple of days already, so he could be here when you arrived, I would not want to keep him waiting any longer than he has to.”

  Jason gave Vanessa an encouraging smile. His green eyes twinkled at her with friendship. She had to admit, her father had been right about him being a nice-looking man, and though she could tell he was older than she was, at least, he was not the same age as her father. She eyed him, trying to decide whether she was going to like him or not.

  “Why don’t you put Vanessa’s trunks on the front porch?” he suggested to Broken Feather. “Then you can put your wagon and horse away in the barn. By the time you are through with that, Vanessa and I should be married. You can stay, along with preacher Jones, for dinner. The boys, my work hands, will join us for dinner as well. You can remain for the night and rest, if you wish, then I will give you a written message to take back to my friend, Sam, telling him that his daughter and I were safely married, and I will gladly take on the responsibility of her from now on.

  Broken Feather merely nodded, trying to restrain himself from just grabbing Vanessa up, depositing her in the wagon, and riding away with her. Only once that happened, he had no second plan, so he knew it was useless to even think about it. He merely took the reins to the horse and started leading it to the barn, looking over his shoulder at Vanessa, seeing the confused expression on her face, and hoping that in the end, she would find happiness. He knew for himself, he would never feel happy unless he could have Vanessa by his side, while knowing it was an impossible hope, which wouldn’t stop eating at him.

  Broken Feather was glad that Jason had not invited him to witness the marriage, even though, by right, he should be there so he could tell Captain Renton he knew for certain the two were married. However, he didn’t think he could stand there and watch Vanessa be pledged to a man as his wife without trying to stop it. Therefore, it was better this way, he told himself.

  Vanessa glanced at Broken Feather as he led the horse and wagon away. It had seemed so natural to be with him, yet now, she realized that was all going to change. His comforting arms would never hold her again, and his passionate lips could never touch hers again either. She had known the whole time it was going to be fleeting, yet, now that she had to face it, she was starting to feel frightened. She trusted Broken Feather. She didn’t even know this man who stood holding her hand.

  Only she had to admit, that a week earlier, she hadn’t known Broken Feather either, and at first she had not liked him, so there had to be hope for this new relationship she was entering into, she told herself, sternly. She swallowed down her fear, and followed Jason into the house.

  “This is my foreman, Bradford Kent” Jason introduced a man who stood before them as they entered the great room. “He will be our witness.” The man with sandy colored hair dressed in cowboy garb, tipped his hat at her. “And this is Preacher Jones,” he continued as the preacher, a thin man with a mustache, came up to them and smiled.

  Jason ushered her to a large stone fireplace, and stood in front of it. “This should be as good a place as any, to perform the marriage,” he told Preacher Jones, pulling Vanessa to his side, and putting his arm around her waist.

  “Very well,” the preacher said, clearing his throat.

  Vanessa heard him read something from the bible he held in his hand, but she wasn’t really listening. Her eyes couldn’t remain on Jason or the preacher, and she darted them around the room, glancing at Bradford only briefly before forcing herself to look back at Jason, who was smiling reassuringly at her. She just didn’t think it was reassuring enough. The next thing she knew, she was being asked if she agreed to take Jason as her husband, and she could barely hear her shaking voice squeak ‘yes’…while her heart was screaming no. She felt a ring being slid onto her finger, but didn’t look down at it, knowing it would make it all the more real. Right now, she didn’t feel like it was actually happening.

  “You may kiss your bride,” Preacher Jones stated.

  Only when Jason bent in for the kiss, Vanessa turned her head at the last minute so the kiss landed on her cheek.

  “I see you are shy,” Jason murmured. “I am sure you will get over it soon enough, though,” he predicted.

  Jason shook Preacher Jones’ hand and thanked him for coming out special, and handed him some money. Then Jason was leading Vanessa and the preacher into the dining room.

  “Have the cook ring the dinner bell,” Jason told Bradford, “And call that Black Indian scout in to eat, while you are about it. It’s the first time I have ever seen a Black Indian before,” he mumbled.

  Vanessa could hear the bell ringing, and soon the room was filled with four hired hands, along with the foreman and Broken Feather.

  “Sit anywhere,” Jason told Broken Feather, motioning to the chairs that were around the long dining table he and Vanessa were sitting at. The other men were finding their own seats. “After dinner, you can do as you please. Bradford will show you what room to sleep in. However, my wife and I need to get acquainted, so we will retire to our room, once the meal is over,” he informed Broken Feather and the others.

  “I suppose I should introduce you to my ranch hands,” he said, turning to Vanessa who sat on one side of the table closest to Jason, sitting at the head of the table. Then
he began rattling off names, as he pointed to each man. “This is Clyde, Chuck, Morton, and Jessie,” he told her. “We hire more men when it’s time to drive the cattle out to the stockyard in order to load them onto the train. Only that won’t be happening for some time yet. We have to herd the cattle quite some distance before we even reach the stockyards, where the train can be used.”

  The group started passing the food around the table and dishing up their plates, talking among themselves in a jovial manner, while congratulating both Jason and Vanessa. Broken Feather had lost his appetite, and let most of the food be passed by him, as it was distributed from person to person. What little food he did put on his plate, he merely pushed around with his fork, eager to leave and go to his room.

  The look of fear on Vanessa’s face was too painful for him to stay and witness. The one look she managed to give him seemed to beg him to rescue her, and he knew he couldn’t do it, so he looked away. Finally, everyone was pushing their chairs back and leaving the room, Jason ushered the preacher out, and Bradford showed Broken Feather where his room was, in the west wing of the house where all the other hired hands had their rooms as well.

  When Jason returned from bidding farewell to the preacher, he took Vanessa’s hand and started to lead her upstairs. “I’ll have Bradford bring your trunks up later,” he told her, as he directed her to their room.

  The room was large, with heavy, dark furniture, making it look masculine, and a little foreboding to Vanessa. The bed, which commanded the most space, had thick carved, four posters, the mattress being covered with a heavy green spread. A cowhide rug was spread over the dark, wide hardwood floorboards, on either side of the bed, while a buffalo rug was flung across the floor at the end of the bed. The rest of the room was filled with the typical assortment of dressers and night tables, with a padded bench at the end of the bed.

  “I hope you like my room,” Jason said, as he went about lighting one of the lamps on the night table, after closing the door and locking it.