by Sara Orwig
“I pity you, Judge. And heaven help you if you ever lay a hand on my son like this.”
She drew herself up. “I wouldn’t think of hurting a child!”
“No, I don’t think you would. But the day may come when your view of law and life is going to tear you apart. The law isn’t always on the side of justice.”
She jerked her chin from his grasp and narrowed her eyes. “The law is meant to be upheld, and if it is a bad law, then it needs to be changed.”
“And in the meantime, if that sorry bastard comes to get this boy, he’ll answer to me and you won’t hand over his son. You get me, and I’ll face him.”
“Don’t use foul language,” she said perfunctorily, thinking about what Black Eagle had just ordered her to do. “You will have to curb your tongue unless you want your son to say the same things you do.”
Black Eagle blinked, and she realized it hadn’t occurred to him the child would pick up his words. “I’ll watch what I say when my son starts talking.”
She held out her hand, her thoughts returning to their marriage. “Am I wearing your wife’s ring?”
“No. I have gold at the livery stable. I made the ring for you.”
Astonished, she touched the smooth golden band. “How did you know what size to make it?”
“I remembered your slender fingers from that day in court with Andrew.”
Amazed, she turned the band. He strode outside, and she wondered if he were gone for the night.
Mulling over their argument, she bathed Zachary’s forehead. A monster had given the boy the beating, yet the law was what everyone had to obey and live by. And as a justice of the peace, she had taken a vow to uphold it. It was clear and unyielding and she prayed no one came to take Zachary home.
When the baby stirred, she left Zachary to take care of the baby. When she returned the baby to his bed, she went outside to the privy, washed and returned to the cabin. The moment she stepped through the door, shock struck her again at the swift change in her life.
Too nervous to sleep, Crystal worked diligently, trying to bring some order to even a corner of the cabin. Now that night was here, she viewed the bed with trepidation. Earlier she had thought she would be too exhausted to care that she had to share the bed with Black Eagle, but her nerves tingled and she knew that if she worked straight through the night and into the next one, she would not be too exhausted to notice him.
The man had married her because she was the only available female. He merely tolerated her, yet she was acutely aware of him. And she knew Travis Black Eagle was hurting badly. As odious as this marriage had seemed this morning, it would take care of her future. Now she had a baby; and if Travis Black Eagle came through the door right now and said he had changed his mind and if she wanted an annulment he would consent, she would say no.
He might come to regret this marriage someday when time healed his heart. And she knew he would heal. He was too full of energy to go through life in mourning. The day might come when he would fall in love again, but he had committed himself to her today and given his son into her care in a truly legal and binding marriage.
And in all her folding and picking up of his clothing, she had not come across a nightshirt. Her insides fluttered at the thought of Travis Black Eagle in a nightshirt or, worse, not in one. She suspected he would find a nightshirt an unnecessary encumbrance. Her cheeks burned and she busied herself stacking up more pans, arranging them on a shelf next to the stove, hanging two on hooks on the wall.
Crystal turned her back to the bed and cleaned furiously, trying to stop the pictures of him that danced in her mind. In all the images that flickered through her thoughts, there was none of the man laughing. Even though he did soften when he talked to his son, she couldn’t imagine him smiling or laughing.
She wondered if he would sleep outside. Was he out there mourning his wife or trying to cool his rage that he had had to marry a woman he didn’t care a whit about? She walked to the bed. As she sat down on the bare mattress, she intended to pause only a moment before getting the bedding and making up the bed, but she stretched out, closed her eyes, and oblivion came.
During the night Zachary’s fever broke and Travis sponged the boy’s face and then moved to a chair to stretch his long legs in front of him. When the baby stirred, Travis fed him without waking Judge Spencer. She was lying half on the bed with her feet dangling over the floor. Moonlight spilled over her and he looked at her face. She looked younger in repose. His gaze slid away and he tried to avoid memories, getting up and moving restlessly outside. He yanked off his shirt, wiping his damp forehead, thankful for the cooler air outside the cabin.
He felt he shouldn’t stray far in case his son stirred. Travis didn’t think even the screams of the baby would wake the judge this night.
Six
The next morning Crystal’s eyes fluttered open, and she stared at the rough-hewn logs overhead. Disoriented, she sat up and groaned. Her arms ached and she was horrified to see her dress rumpled, and clinging damply to her. She met Black Eagle’s unfathomable gaze, which startled her but brought memory tumbling back.
“I thought you needed the sleep. I’ve fed my son.”
“It must be late.” She stood, blushing, embarrassed that she had slept in her clothing. Her black dress was a mass of wrinkles and her hair felt matted, her mouth dry. Feeling uncomfortable under Black Eagle’s steady stare, she rushed across the room toward the door. “I’ll wash and be right back to take the baby.”
She fled, thankful for the cool morning air. Crystal washed her face, trying to freshen up. The moment she re-entered the cabin, Black Eagle stood.
“Zachary’s fever has broken, and he’s sleeping quietly. Turtle River was here this morning and we changed the boy’s bandages. He should be better today. I’m leaving now.” He studied her as if something else were on his mind and he didn’t know how to broach the subject. He reached behind his back and pulled out Ellery’s revolver.
“When we get a chance, I’ll show you how to use this properly; but until then, all you have to do to summon me is fire two quick shots. I know you can do that.”
She blushed, guilt swamping her as she remembered firing at him and realizing that if Ellery had kept a loaded weapon, Travis Black Eagle would be dead by her hand and the baby would be an orphan. She nodded as he moved toward the door.
“I’ll place the revolver on the shelf by the door.” His gaze slid past her to the sleeping boy. “Don’t turn him over to his father without letting me know. The man who inflicted that beating needs to answer to someone.”
“You can’t take the law into your own power.”
His dark eyes met hers, and she felt another clash of wills with him. “You are not to turn him over to his father without trying to summon me.”
Praying she didn’t have to make that decision, she followed him to the doorway and stood in the cool breeze. He strode to the barn where the bay was saddled. With ease he mounted and turned to ride away, sitting tall and straight.
Crystal bathed and changed the baby and then began to clean, singing to him as she worked. Sweat poured off her body and dust made her sneeze, but bit by bit the cabin became neater. While she worked, she was conscious of moving tools, buckets, Black Eagle’s clothing; but Elizabeth’s belongings were gone and she wondered what he had done with all her things until she found a small trunk.
Crystal opened it and saw the keepsakes that had belonged to his wife—small tintypes, a locket, a crystal vase, a set of china. She closed the trunk and wondered if he had burned the clothing and bedding and mattress. Her gaze ran over the cabin and her curiosity grew about Black Eagle.
A few minutes later, she opened a cabinet and found the only belongings that indicated the nature of the man. She pulled out a shield that had a sun and a buffalo painted on the hide with two eagle feathers attached to it. She ran her hands over it, wondering about his past life. An eagle feather headdress lay beside the shield. Was he a man of import
ance in his tribe? A bow and quiver filled with arrows lay on the shelf and she picked them up, feeling as if she touched Black Eagle when she touched his things. How easily she could imagine him in the life he’d once led. There was still a wild air about him. She ran her finger along an arrow and touched the bow again. These had to be ties to his past, yet why had he left his own people?
She found a necklace with a golden locket and assumed it was Elizabeth’s. A long-bladed knife lay on the shelf, a leather pouch. With care she returned the knife to the shelf and closed the cabinet.
As she continued to clean, she mulled over what to do if Zachary’s father came for him. Never before in her life had she felt the law was wrong, but this time she did. Yet even if it were wrong, it was still the law. No matter how dreadful, she felt she would have to uphold it and she prayed his father did not find him.
If the man came, she knew she would not fire the gun to alert Travis Black Eagle.
She moved pans and clothing away from a chest and opened the top drawer to find Black Eagle’s clothing tossed inside. She folded a shirt and placed it in the drawer. Curious, she opened the next drawer and saw more of his clothing; she touched it lightly, drawing her fingers over denim pants, again feeling as if she were touching the man and not merely his belongings. In the corner of the drawer were two metal boxes. She opened the top one. Stacks of gold coins gleamed dully in the light and took her breath.
Shocked by the amount of money he had in the box, she stared in amazement. She closed the box and looked in the one beneath it. Both had keys in the lock, but neither were locked. The second held more gold, silver, greenbacks, and papers that she assumed were deeds to his land and the livery stable. She was amazed at his wealth and stared outside, not seeing the rolling grassland, but thinking of the man she had married. Now she knew why he had made such a generous offer to pay Ellery’s debts. She looked at the gold coins, closing the box carefully, mildly surprised that he trusted her with the money. He could have easily locked the boxes, pocketed the keys, and she would never have known their contents. However, since he knew her staunch feelings about the law, why wouldn’t he trust her with his money?
She looked in the bottom drawer and found it empty. It must have held Elizabeth’s things, but now it would have to hold hers, Crystal decided.
She moved to a crate and picked up the delicate green music box that she had brought from Baltimore. Winding it up, she listened to the familiar tinkling notes of a waltz.
“Morning.”
She whirled around to see Zachary trying to stand.
“Let me help you,” she said, rushing toward him, but he waved her away.
“I can stand,” he said and grinned at her, looking younger than before, yet he was inches taller than she would have guessed. His teeth were crooked with a slight overbite; his brown hair stood up in tangled bunches, and bruises colored his face with blue and brown patches almost hiding his freckles. “I need to get out. Nature calls.”
“Oh! The privy is that way,” she said, motioning. “Don’t you want help?”
“No, ma’am.” He closed his eyes, and she thought he was going to faint. She started toward him again, but stopped as his eyes opened and he shook his head. “I’m all right. Just need to move around.”
“I have cold meat from yesterday.”
“Yes, ma’am. When I get back, I’ll eat.” He slowly eased his way across the cabin; and although she wanted to help him, she knew her aid wasn’t wanted. Quiet descended and he was gone so long, she wondered whether he had run away or fainted. When he returned to the cabin, she smiled with relief.
“Now, I’d be real grateful for some of that food.”
His hair was wet and slicked back from his face and she guessed his age fifteen. Still young enough to belong to his parents. She sliced the thick beef from the stew and got out cold biscuits to place them on the table. She poured a large glass of milk and set the baby where he could watch Zachary.
“Your son is a cute little fellow.”
“He’s not really my son,” she said quietly, and Zachary shot her a quizzical look as he sat at the table and took a bite of biscuit. He closed his eyes and chewed and then drank the entire glass of milk and wiped his mouth. “Ma’am, the food is heaven.”
She had to laugh. “That’s the first time anyone ever described my cooking in such a manner!” He grinned as she poured more milk and brought it to the table. “I’m Crystal Spencer.”
“I’m Zachary North.”
She smiled and then remembered her married name. “Actually, I’m Crystal Black Eagle, but it’s difficult to think of myself as a married woman,” she admitted. Crystal sat down and related briefly how she had come to be Black Eagle’s bride, leaving out most details, including Ellery’s drinking and Black Eagle’s forceful proposal. “We found you along the trail.”
“I remember. Two men.”
“My husband and Turtle River, the man who works for him.”
“You folks saved my life and I’m grateful.”
She nodded, getting up to fetch more beef and biscuits. After Zachary had eaten, he began to make feeble efforts to help her restore order to the cabin until he tired and sat on a chair, propping his arms on his knees while he watched her work.
Later he moved around again, doing simple chores to help, and she was amazed by his resilience. His fingers brushed over the keys of the piano. “My grandma had a piano. She said I play by ear.” He grinned. “I really don’t. I play by hand.”
She laughed, feeling more lightheaded with Zachary seeming to get better by the hour. He sat at the stool and played a simple melody that she recognized, the lilting chords of the fighting song reminding her of the war years and home in Baltimore.
Crystal sang as she worked while Zachary played a few more tunes and then returned to either helping her or getting down on his knees to play with the baby.
In late afternoon she left him to watch the baby and went to the stream, meandering upstream until she found a deeper spot. On impulse she stripped and bathed, shivering in the icy water, but thankful to get clean. She washed her hair and returned to the cabin.
Zachary and the baby were at the pen where the black horses were, and Zachary waved to her as she returned. She changed, reaching for her other black dress, then paused. She pulled on a blue cotton that was far cooler. Her hurt over Ellery’s loss hadn’t changed, but it was senseless to wear the hot, black dresses for mourning when no one saw her except the men and the baby.
She braided her hair, letting the long braid hang down her back, and built a fire to cook their supper, wondering if her cooking would make Black Eagle wish he had found a different bride.
Zachary was outside with the baby when Black Eagle returned in early evening and she heard the two greet each other. She busied herself getting supper, but she was aware of the deep rumble of Black Eagle’s voice as he talked quietly.
She heard the steady squeak of the pump and the gush of water. Curious, Crystal peeked through the open door. Black Eagle was bending over, pumping water over his back and head. Zachary was out of her sight.
Unobserved, Crystal watched transfixed, staring at the ripple of muscles in Black Eagle’s back as he straightened and ran his fingers through his thick, black hair. Water glistened on his back and shoulders, and she felt that same tingling awareness of him that she had experienced before. The man was powerful, healthy, intensely male. He turned his head and she met his gaze. Heat flooded her cheeks, and she stepped away quickly, embarrassed at being caught staring at him.
She smelled something burning and discovered smoke rising from the slabs of meat she had placed in the large iron skillet. She grabbed the skillet, removing it from the fire as it sizzled. Crystal bit her lip, staring at the charred meat, ready to throw up her hands in exasperation. Supper was ruined, but it was all they had to eat. In defense, she reminded herself that this marriage had not been her idea. Nor had he inquired about her cooking abilities before he proposed.
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As if her thoughts had conjured him up, Black Eagle stepped inside. Instantly she became aware of him and of herself, aware of wisps of hair curling around her face that had escaped from her braid, aware of perspiration dotting her face and making her dress damp. He looked over the room and she wondered if her changes annoyed him.
Travis paused, staring at his orderly home. The bed had a cheerful blue-and-red quilt. A bouquet of primroses decorated the center of the table that was now spread with a lace cloth.
The piano had been moved against a wall; clothing hung on hooks, and the floor was swept. For an instant he saw it as Elizabeth had kept it, remembering their golden moments that were filled with joy and wild lovemaking. His insides knotted and he gritted his teeth, clenching his fists and trying to control his emotions. How long was the hurt going to keep hitting him like this, a staggering pain coming out of the blue? He ran his hand across his forehead; he would have to stop thinking that way. Elizabeth was gone forever. He clamped his jaw closed and glanced at the smoking stove.
Crystal waved her hand over it, her face screwed up in a frown. If it had been any other woman, he would have braced for tears, but he didn’t think the judge knew how to cry. He moved to the cradle and the moment he picked up his tiny son, Travis’s anger and hurt vanished.
The tiny baby was a miracle and he loved his son without reservation. The baby’s brown eyes sparkled and he cooed and kicked as if that were his welcome home to his father. Travis swung him gently in his hands and talked softly to him.
“How’s my boy?” Travis began to chant an old Comanche song. He caught the judge watching him, and she turned her back swiftly. Once again, he wondered whether she disapproved of him because of his race.
When she announced that supper was ready, the men sat down to eat. As Crystal busied herself getting steaming dishes on the table, Travis picked up a bowl of potatoes. He stuck a fork into one, and it fell apart in mushy pieces. He fished some onto his plate and passed the bowl to Zachary while Crystal poured cups of hot coffee.
