Spirit's Song

by Madeline Baker

  Jesse shook his head. He much preferred the Indian way of life. The Cheyenne did not live their lives by the clock. They slept when they were tired, ate when they were hungry. There was always time to play, to visit, to gamble. The women went out in groups to gather food, thereby turning what could have been a chore into a time of laughter and conversation.

  “I’m hungry,” Kaylynn said.

  “What?”

  She looked up at him and smiled. “You look like you’re a million miles away.”

  “Not quite. What did you say?”

  “I said I’m hungry. Let’s go in here and get something to eat.”

  Jesse looked at the shop she indicated. The front was painted white, with black grillwork. Flowers bloomed in yellow window boxes. A small French flag fluttered in the breeze. A sign painted in flowery script read La Parisien.

  He followed her inside reluctantly. The air was redolent with the scent of fresh bread and coffee. Small round tables covered with green-and-white checked cloths were scattered around the room. Most were occupied by well-coifed women in expensive dresses.

  Jesse felt like the proverbial bull in the china shop as several pairs of eyes turned in his direction.

  Drawing Kaylynn closer, he whispered, “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

  She looked up at him. “Why not?”

  “I don’t belong in here.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Taking his hand again, she led him to a vacant table on the far side of the room. “La Parisien’s has the best French pastry in the city.”

  French pastry. Jesse swore silently as he held her chair for her, then sat down. He didn’t have to look to know that all eyes in the shop were watching him. He could feel the stares on his back.

  “Kaylynn? Is that you?” The words gushed from the mouth of a tall young woman clad in a dark-green muslin gown and a floppy-brimmed straw bonnet.

  “Regina!” Kaylynn stood up, smiling. “How are you?”

  “Je vais bien, merci, et toi?” I’m fine, thank you, and you?

  “Je vais bien.” I’m fine.

  The two women embraced, then looked at each other and laughed.

  “I’m afraid that’s about all the French I remember,” Kaylynn said.

  “It’s so good to see you,” Regina exclaimed. “It’s been ages.”

  Kaylynn nodded. “You look wonderful, Reggie.” But then, Regina always looked lovely. With her silky blonde hair, vivid green eyes, peaches-and-cream complexion and hourglass figure, she turned heads everywhere she went.

  “So do you.” Regina glanced at Jesse and frowned. “Who’s your…friend?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Regina Daniels, this is Jesse Yellow Thunder. Jesse, this is my best friend, Regina.”

  Rising, Jesse made a slight bow in the woman’s direction. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

  “The pleasure is mine, I’m sure,” Regina replied. “Yellow Thunder, what an odd name.”

  “He’s a Cheyenne Indian,” Kaylynn said.

  “Really?” Interest mingled with the curiosity in Regina’s eyes.

  “Join us, why don’t you?” Kaylynn suggested.

  “I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m meeting Mother at Simone’s.” Regina laughed and glanced upward, as if asking for divine help. “And I’m already late.”

  “It was wonderful seeing you again,” Kaylynn said.

  “We must get together soon,” Regina said. She leaned forward and kissed Kaylynn on the cheek, then turned and smiled at Jesse. “Very soon,” she said in a throaty purr. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Thunder.”

  Jesse nodded.

  “A le prochine,” Regina said gaily.

  “Yes, until next time,” Kaylynn said. “She looks great, doesn’t she?” Kaylynn remarked as she sat down.

  Jesse shrugged. He supposed Regina was pretty enough, if you liked women who wore too much paint. Any barn could use a coat of paint now and then, he mused, but you didn’t slap it all in one spot.

  Kaylynn looked at him across the table, a speculative look in her eyes. “She certainly liked you.”

  Jesse shrugged. He hadn’t missed the seductive look in Regina’s eyes. Some women liked forbidden fruit.

  “What did you think of her?”

  Jesse grinned. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Good, ’cause I don’t have time to think of anyone but you.”

  Her expression softened. “Oh, Jesse.”

  “Bonjour, Monsieur, Mademoiselle. You order, please?”

  “I’ll have a croissant and a demi-tasse, s’il vous plait,” Kaylynn said. “Jesse?”

  “Just a cup of coffee.”

  The waiter bowed slightly.”Tres bon,” he said, and left the table.

  “I used to come here all the time,” Kaylynn remarked, glancing around. “It hasn’t changed at all.”

  Jesse nodded. “It’s…nice.”

  “You don’t like it, do you?”

  “Well…” He shifted in his chair. It was a delicate thing. He was surprised it held his weight without breaking.

  Kaylynn looked around, only then seeming to notice that not only was Jesse the only man in the place, he also seemed to be the focus of every eye in the room. “Do you want to leave?”

  He would have said yes if she hadn’t mentioned that this was her favorite place. “It’s all right. Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why didn’t you tell your parents about being captured by the Cheyenne?”

  “I should have, I know, but…” She made a vague dismissive gesture with her hand. “I just didn’t want to have to talk about it. They would have been horrified, especially my mother. I just didn’t want to worry about something that was over and done. You understand, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I understand.” He had known white women who had been captured by Indians and then returned to their families. No matter how sympathetic people were, how understanding, they always wondered what had really happened, always assumed the worst. He couldn’t blame Kaylynn for wanting to avoid that.

  Moments later, the waiter reappeared with their order. He placed a small plate with a crescent-shaped pastry in front of Kaylynn, along with a tiny cup of coffee. He set a large cup in front of Jesse, smiled at Kaylynn, and left the table.

  Kaylynn took a bite of her croissant. Closing her eyes, she chewed it slowly, a soft sound of pleasure rising in her throat.

  Jesse couldn’t help smiling as he watched her. Kaylynn blushed when she opened her eyes to find Jesse grinning at her.

  “What?” she asked.

  Jesse shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “Tell me.”

  He laughed softly. “I’ve just never seen anyone who looked so happy when they were eating.”

  “Well, here,” she said, offering him a bite. “Try it for yourself.”

  Obediently, he took a bite. It was good. Melt-in-your- mouth good.

  “Well?” Kaylynn looked at him, a knowing grin on her face.

  “It’s good.”

  “Good! Just good?”

  “All right. It’s better than good.”

  With a smirk that said I told you so, she took another bite, chewed it slowly, then licked her lips.

  Jesse swore silently, wishing he could lean forward and lick the sugar she had missed from the corner of her mouth. He squashed the other thoughts that rose in his mind, knowing Kaylynn would be appalled by his lustful thoughts.

  He was relieved when she finished the last bite.

  Kaylynn decided to visit her grandmother the next morning. She had missed Grandmother Dearmond, and she was anxious to see her again.

  Jesse was reluctant to meet any more of Kay’s relatives, but he couldn’t refuse, not when Kaylynn smiled at him, her eyes softly pleading.

  Kaylynn’s grandmother lived in a large two-story house made of white brick. It was set amid an expanse of well-cared-for lawn. Trees and flowers add
ed shade and color.

  An elderly woman dressed in a black gabardine dress answered the door.

  “Miss Kaylynn!” she exclaimed, her blue eyes twinkling.

  “Hi, Effie,” Kaylynn replied. “Is Grandmother home?”

  “She’s in the library.”

  “Thank you, Effie.”

  “It’s good to see you again, Miss Kaylynn. May I take your hat, sir?”

  Jesse handed the woman his hat, then Kaylynn took his hand. He managed a quick glance at his surroundings as he followed Kaylynn. Though her grandmother’s house was not so large as that of Kaylynn’s parents, it felt warmer somehow. There were knickknacks everywhere, along with dozens of photographs in silver frames. The furniture was made of dark mahogany. There were lace doilies on the tabletops.

  Kaylynn stopped in front of a door at the end of a long hallway. Peering over her shoulder, Jesse saw a white-haired woman bent over a small cherrywood desk, apparently writing a letter. Book shelves lined two walls. A large window let in the morning sun. A gray cat lay curled in a padded rocking chair in the corner.

  “What is it, Effie?” the woman asked, not looking up.

  “It’s teatime,” Kaylynn said.

  The woman’s head jerked up, her expression one of disbelief, and then joy. “Kaylynn!”

  “Hi, Grams,” Kaylynn said, and hurrying across the floor, she knelt by her grandmother’s chair and gave her a hug. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  “And I you. It’s been much too long since you’ve been home.”

  “Yes. How are you? Father said you’d been ill.”

  “Pshaw, I’m fine, Kaylynn. Tell me, who’s this you’ve brought with you?”

  “Oh, this is Jesse.” Kaylynn stood up, motioning for Jesse to enter the room. “Grams, this is Jesse Yellow Thunder. He’s a friend of mine.”

  Lynn Dearmond’s eyes narrowed as her gaze ran over Jesse.

  “A friend, you say.”

  Kaylynn nodded. “I met him a few months ago. He was kind enough to accompany me home.”

  “I see. Why didn’t Alan come with you?”

  “He couldn’t get away. Business, you know.”

  “I see. Come closer, young man, let me have a look at you.”

  Feeling like a horse on the auction block, Jesse did as the woman asked.

  “That’s a nasty scar you’ve got there.”

  Kaylynn gasped, wondering if Jesse would be offended.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jesse said, pleased by the elderly woman’s directness. It was refreshing to finally meet someone who spoke her mind, who didn’t look at him furtively, all the while wondering what had happened to him.

  “Bet there’s a good story behind it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Lynn Dearmond grinned. “Involves a pretty girl, I’ll wager. Maybe you’ll tell me about it someday.”

  “Maybe,” Jesse said, grinning back at her.

  “Well, sit down, both of you,” Lynn Dearmond said. She waved a hand toward the sofa, then picked up a tiny silver bell and rang it.

  A short time later, Effie appeared in the doorway, a tea tray in her hands.

  Lynn Dearmond laughed softly. “I see you’ve anticipated me, as usual.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Effie said. “I brought tea and cakes.”

  “Thank you, Effie.”

  “Will there be anything else?”

  Lynn Dearmond regarded Jesse a moment. “If I’m not mistaken, I think Mr. Thunder would rather have coffee, isn’t that right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He looked at Effie. “No cream, no sugar.”

  With a nod, Effie left the room.

  “Kaylynn, pour the tea, won’t you, dear? Mr. Thunder, tell me about yourself. Judging from your name, I’d say you’ve got some Indian blood in you.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jesse said, and spent the next hour describing life in the West.

  They spent a few minutes talking about the upcoming party, and then Kaylynn stood up. “We should be going.”

  “You must bring Mr. Thunder to visit me again,” Lynn Dearmond said. “I should love to hear more about the West.”

  Jesse nodded. “My pleasure.”

  Kaylynn hugged her grandmother. “Bye, Grams.”

  “Goodbye, dear. I’m so glad you came,” Lynn Dearmond said. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Thunder.”

  “Just Jesse.”

  Lynn Dearmond smiled and extended her hand. “It was nice to meet you, just Jesse.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he replied, taking her hand in his. He smiled at her, surprised to find that he liked Kaylynn’s grandmother very much. Of all the people he had met in the city, she was the only one who had made him feel welcome. Impulsively, he kissed her hand.

  Lynn Dearmond grinned. “Handsome and gallant,” she murmured. “You must come back and visit me again.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Effie was waiting for them at the front door, Jesse’s hat in hand. “I’m so glad you stopped by, Miss Kaylynn,” she said.

  “Is she really all right?”

  Effie nodded. “Yes, thank the Lord. Seeing you has done wonders.”

  “We’ll be back soon. Take good care of her for me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Jesse smiled at the woman as he took his hat from her, then turned and followed Kaylynn outside.

  “So,” Kaylynn asked as they walked down the path to the carriage, “what did you think of her?”

  “I like her,” he replied, and it was true. The woman was open and honest, and he valued that.

  Shortly after they returned home, Regina came to call with Rodney Farnsworth in tow.

  “I know I should have sent word we were coming,” Regina said as she breezed into the parlor, “but we happened to be in the neighborhood, and…” Her words trailed off as her gaze came to rest on Jesse.

  She looked, Kaylynn thought, like a hungry cat that had just discovered a bowl of fresh cream.

  “Good afternoon, Kaylynn,” Rodney said.

  Kaylynn smiled. “Rodney, I don’t believe you’ve met Jesse. Jesse, this is Rodney Farnsworth. Rodney, Jesse Yellow Thunder.”

  The two men shook hands.

  “Well,” Kaylynn said, “why don’t we sit down?”

  “Good idea,” Regina said. “I’d love to get to know Mr. Thunder better.” She smiled at Jesse as she glided across the floor and slipped her arm through his. “I’ve never known a real Indian before,” she said as she drew him toward the love seat. “Do tell me all about yourself. Are you married?”

  Kaylynn had a sudden urge to scratch her friend’s eyes out as she watched Regina flirt shamelessly with Jesse. She tried to hear what her friend was saying, but Rodney was telling her all about his latest victory on Trotter’s Row, and how his new horse had beaten all the others. As if she cared.

  And then Rodney changed the subject. “Why didn’t Alan come with you?”

  “Business,” Kaylynn said.

  “Too bad. I was hoping maybe you were tired of him.”

  “Oh?” Kaylynn leaned a little to the left so she could keep an eye on Regina and Jesse. Regina was smiling up at him, apparently mesmerized by whatever it was Jesse was telling her.

  “Maybe we could go out while you’re here,” Rodney suggested. “Dinner, a play.”

  “Maybe,” Kaylynn said. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Regina run her fingertips along Jesse’s forearm.

  She was glad when Cora entered the room with the tea cart.

  “Thank you, Cora,” Kaylynn said. “That will be all.”

  With a nod and a curtsy, Cora left the room.

  Pouring a cup of tea, Kaylynn carried it to Regina and thrust it into her friend’s hand. “I don’t remember, Reggie,” she asked sweetly, “do you take cream?”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Ravenhawk stood up, stretching. Pouring himself a cup of lukewarm coffee, he looked west, and then east. When Yellow Thunder had turned him loose, he’d been determine
d to head back to the Dakotas, find a woman and settle down. Now…

  He looked up at the bridge overhead. He had spent the night camped in the ravine below the bridge. Once, about midnight, a train had passed over, the shriek of the whistle echoing like a siren call in the night. A call that said, Follow me.

  He’d never been farther East than Apache Junction. Never seen a big city. Never seen the elephant.

  He took a sip of the coffee. Grimacing at its bitterness, he dumped it on the ground.

  A man ought to experience the big city just once before he settled down.

  Grinning, he doused his campfire and saddled the Appaloosa.

  There was a town not far from here. He’d scrounge some money, buy a ticket for St. Louie…

  The sound of a train whistle shattered the stillness of the morning. It was an omen, he thought.

  He was swinging into the saddle when he heard the explosion.

  * * * * *

  Alan Summers jolted awake. “What the hell was that?” Sitting up, he opened the window and stuck his head outside. Up ahead, he could see a plume of gray smoke.

  “Somebody blew up the bridge!”

  “What?” Alan glanced over his shoulder. On both sides of the aisle, people were leaning out of windows, trying to find out what was going on. There was a loud grinding of metal against metal as the train slowly screeched to a halt.

  “The bridge! It’s gone!”

  “Look! Riders!”

  “Damn. We’re being held up.”

  Alan swore. A holdup! He looked out the window again in time to see a masked man climb aboard the engine.

  Moments later, two masked men entered the passenger car.

  “Get your hands up,” one of them ordered, his voice gruff. “Now!”

  * * * * *

  Ravenhawk urged his horse up the side of the ravine. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening. The train was being robbed. Keeping out of sight, he watched as a masked man hurried the engineer toward one of the cars in the back. Having robbed a train or two himself, Ravenhawk figured the bandits were after a payroll.

  The engineer stopped in front of one of the cars farther down the track.

  The outlaw pounded on the door. “Open up,” he hollered.