by Sara Orwig
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Look at the difference your hair makes. People only see you as Judge Spencer. This once, I want them to see you as a woman, Crystal. It will stop some of their cruel remarks.”
“It’ll never stop them,” she said matter-of-factly. “People have talked behind my back all my life.”
“I can’t believe that,” he said, frowning.
“I’ll wear my hair down and you’ll see!” she exclaimed, trembling because he was too close and she wanted him in a way she hadn’t known a woman could want a man, hurting because she wanted people to accept her but they never had.
“If you let your hair down and look your best, you’ll see a difference in their attitude toward you.”
“I’ll see no such thing!” she snapped. All the ribbons and silks she had had in Baltimore hadn’t helped her back East.
“You wear your hair down,” he said emphatically, and the matter was closed. “I’ll be back inside after a while.”
He turned away, his boot heels scraping the floor as he crossed the room. He shrugged into his heavy coat, put his hat on his head, and closed the door behind him. A gust of cold air buffeted her and she stared after him in consternation. She closed her eyes, aching and yearning for more of him.
She was in love with him. His slightest touch set her heart pounding. His presence made her pulse race. Why couldn’t she go back to seeing him as she once had? He was an ordinary man, like other men. Only, in truth, she knew she had never seen him as ordinary or like other men. He had always been different, always disturbed her. She just hadn’t had to live with him before.
She groaned, clutching her middle, wanting his strong arms, wanting his laughter and his kisses. Instead, she stood in the empty house with a sleeping baby, the howling wind and cold coming through cracks between logs.
She changed for bed, aware he would be back some time during the night. She felt edgy, disturbed by the prospect of his sleeping inside. After a look at Jacob, she crawled beneath the cold covers and lay staring into the dark, the moan of the wind adding to her solitary feeling. The Mandeville’s party was more than a week away; she was not going to worry about it now.
She fell asleep before Travis returned, and he was gone before she awakened. That afternoon as she played with Jacob, she again contemplated a baby of her own. The idea had taken root in her mind and sprouted, blossoming into a notion that she could not set aside. To have at least one more baby would fill their house with joy and fill her life. Jacob was six months old now. She watched the flames dance high in the fireplace and thought about her tall husband. Day by day, she was falling more in love with him. Perhaps she had fallen in love that moment when he had scooped her into his arms and run to the house out of the storm with her. Whenever he appeared, her pulse jumped, and she felt a tingly awareness around him that she never experienced around other men. And she wondered more about his kisses.
How could she ask him to father her baby? Every time she considered it, she grew hot with embarrassment and uncertainty. Yet daily, as she watched Jacob grow, she wanted another child.
Also niggling at her brain was the memory of Travis unbraiding her hair. He had so seldom seen her with it down, yet he must prefer it that way. Setting Jacob on a blanket on the floor, she moved to her mirror and took down her hair. What had Travis seen when he’d stood so close behind her, his fingers winding through her hair? When her unruly mane tumbled over her shoulders, she picked up the brush, pulling it through the curly, tangled locks.
She had not worn her hair down in years, and she wasn’t certain she could manage to pin it properly. She had little idea of the latest styles. Finally she gave up, pinning up the sides and letting the rest cascade down her back. She studied herself, dismayed by the short tendrils that curled around her face and were impossible to catch and pin down.
She gave up, leaving it down, selecting a dress with a white cotton top and a black skirt. She changed before the men returned for the supper that she checked on repeatedly, trying her utmost to produce something somewhere between raw and burned.
When she heard footsteps across the porch, she forgot about her hair.
Twelve
She set down a pan of potatoes and whirled around.
“We’re back,” Travis greeted her, hanging his hat on a hook with a nonchalance that belied the intensity of his scrutiny.
Turtle River nodded and Zachary came inside. “Evening, Crystal,” Zachary said and then he halted and his mouth dropped open.
“Evening. Supper’s almost ready,” she said, rushing to attend to Jacob, who had begun to cry.
Travis reached him before Crystal and waved her back to the table. “I’ll take care of him. Go ahead with supper,” he said easily, his gaze sweeping over her face and hair without giving her any reassurance that it pleased him.
Zachary still stared at her, and suddenly she wondered if he were staring because her hair was down. She looked at the roasting meat and forgot about the men as she tried to get roast, potatoes, and corn on the table at the same time.
“Crystal, your hair is pretty,” Zachary said, sounding awed and still staring at her as if she had sprouted a second head.
“Thank you,” she answered, pleased but wishing the compliment had come from Travis.
“It’s really pretty,” he said again, and she felt her cheeks flush because it was obvious she had pleased Zachary no end. She was aware in her peripheral vision that Travis watched her, too.
She couldn’t imagine that he really even noticed her. He always seemed wrapped in his own world, an invisible wall between himself and others.
Through supper, she felt a hum of excitement from all the attention she received from Zachary and even more than usual from Turtle River and Travis.
After eating and cleaning the dishes, they gathered to read, and she caught all three men studying her until she felt fluttery inside. How could letting her hair down cause as much attention as she had received through supper and now? Yet something had changed. She wanted to run and look at herself again in the mirror.
Travis rocked Jacob while Zachary read, and then when Travis took the book, he passed the sleeping baby to her. While flames danced and sparks shot up the chimney, she held Jacob in her arms and listened. She would forever remember his deep voice and A Tale of Two Cities read beside a crackling fire. His lashes were thick and dark above his cheeks and the book looked small and fragile in his big hands. After the others had gone, perhaps she would summon the courage to ask him about another baby.
She felt nervous, self-conscious. For days she had mulled over ways to ask him, yet night after night, she let moments slip away because she could not say the words. Tonight, he stayed behind after Turtle River and Zachary left; she would never have a better opportunity.
“You took my suggestion about your hair,” he said, facing her across the room. Jacob slept and the only sound in the house was the crackle of the pine logs he had hauled from the mountains. “It’s very pretty, Crystal.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly, her heart pounding with pleasure.
“The barn is too cold and uncomfortable. Tonight I’ll stay here again. I’ll see to the animals and be back shortly.”
She nodded, unable to broach the subject of another child. She watched him leave. She changed and put out the lamps, sliding beneath the covers, expecting to awake when the morning sun’s rays spilled across the bed and find Travis had indeed slept there and gone before she was awake.
Instead, she heard the door and saw him in the shadow by the fire.
“I’m still awake,” she said quietly over the pounding of her heart.
A floorboard creaked and she made out his silhouette against the window. He pulled off his boots and yanked at his shirt. She heard the rustle of clothing. Had he shed his denim pants as well? She blushed in the safe darkness of the room and lay still, pricked by a million pinpoints as his weight came down on the bed oh-so-close and yet so far from her. Onl
y inches away, but a lifetime of feeling.
“It’s a cold night. I expect snow again this week,” he said. His voice was deep and quiet in the night, filling her with longing. She shifted onto her side and faced him. Was this the right time to ask him for another baby?
“Do you miss seeing your brother?” she asked instead.
“Brett? I think about him. I hope he’s all right, but we each went our own ways and have our own lives.”
“Were you close when you were little?”
“Yes. He’s twenty-six, two years younger than I am.”
“He’s my age. I was very close to Ellery when we were growing up. He was my big brother, three years older than I was.”
“The war came and Brett and I separated. Lord, what a stupid war it was! So many lives lost. So many of my people lost now.”
“You miss your early life, don’t you?”
“Yes, sometimes, but I know the Indian way. Our old tribal ways can’t last. With the railroads cutting across the land, causing towns like Cheyenne to spring up, change is coming.”
“How did you meet Elizabeth?”
“I was headed to Cheyenne and stayed for a time in Colorado. I met her and went back twice to see her. The third time, I married her and brought her here with me.”
“Her family didn’t object?”
“Her father died the year before I met her and I think her mother was rather desperate about her own circumstances. Her mother married soon after we did.”
Silence filled the night. “Tell me about your early years,” she said.
Her eyes adjusted to the dark. He lay on his back, his arms behind his head, and talked about his boyhood. The fire had burned low, yet the fires within her seemed to curl higher every moment. She was only inches from him. She could reach out and touch him so easily, but a wide and deep chasm might as well lay between them.
She had no idea how long they lay and talked. As she told him about Baltimore, he turned, facing her. She couldn’t see him in the dark, only the bulk of his body, the curve of his shoulder. He reached out to take a lock of her hair, turning it idly in his fingers, the faint, gentle tugs on her scalp making her quiver with longing for more, for him to reach for her, for his hands to stroke her.
Now is the time to ask him, an inner voice told her. It was dark, quiet, and intimate. They had been talking easily about one topic and then another, a closeness developing she had not felt with him before. Yet she wanted to be able to see his face, to see his eyes when she asked. She didn’t want darkness hiding everything from her.
Jacob stirred and began crying.
Crystal pulled on her blue wrapper and picked him up, talking softly to him. Travis lit a lamp, and prepared a bottle of milk for Jacob.
She sat in the lamplight, rocking the baby and holding him close on her shoulder until he fell asleep. Then she continued to rock.
Travis put more logs on the fire. He wore his denim pants and moccasins, his shaggy hair hanging loose over his shoulders.
“I’ll put him in his bed.” Travis took the sleeping baby, bending over her, pausing momentarily when their eyes met. Her breath caught as she gazed at him, his face only inches from hers. “You let your hair down. It’s pretty, Crystal.”
“Thank you,” she said, her heart drumming, pleasure warming her more than the roaring fire.
He took Jacob from her arms and stood, still looking intently at her. “I told you it would change how others see you. Zachary and Turtle River were like two men hit by lightning.”
Her joy increased. She was unaccustomed to hearing such praise; and from Travis, a compliment meant more than it would have from any other man on earth. “I don’t think it was that drastic, but they did notice.”
“More than notice, Judge,” Travis remarked dryly and turned away, taking Jacob to bed. She watched as he bent over the baby and then leaned down to kiss his cheek.
“You’re a good father,” she said, taking a deep breath. Now was the time to make her request.
Her palms grew damp and suddenly the air was suffocating. Travis sat facing her, stretching out his legs in front of the fire. “Now I’m not sleepy.”
“Travis, I want to ask you something.”
His gaze settled on her and her pulse roared so loudly she could barely hear her own voice. Could he tell how frightened she was?
“Jacob is adorable and he’s growing.”
“I’m glad you love him. You’re a good mother.”
“That’s what I want. I mean, it’s what I wanted to ask you.” she blundered on, hurrying to get the words out. “Although there is no love between us,” she said in a rush, feeling as if she might faint, “I want to be a mother.” She couldn’t get her breath, yet she knew she had to go on now. “I want to have a baby. A brother or sister for Jacob.”
Thirteen
Travis was speechless, stunned by her proposition. Never in his wildest moments would he have dreamed she would make such a request of him.
All his hurts and fears and caution constricted his heart. He stood up. She had asked for what he wanted to avoid—involvement. And even if his heart could remain unattached, he was not going to lose another woman and have to find a third mother for Jacob. Everything in him cried out in angry refusal, and he wasn’t going to argue with her about it.
“No! That’s not part of our bargain, Crystal. I will not.” He yanked on his shirt and reached for his boots. “I won’t go through that again. Never.” He stomped into one boot and then began to tug on the other. “I’m sleeping in the damned barn,” he said, wanting to get away from her, away from her request and all its implications.
Crystal came to her feet, shaking with anger, disappointment, and hurt. “Go! Just get out!” She watched as he moved across the room to get his coat. He was angry, giving no thought to what she had requested, just rejecting her instantly. Once again a man would scorn her and hurt her and there was nothing she could do about it, but this time it affected Jacob as well as her.
“I wish women could do as men do,” she cried, shaking with humiliation and fury. “Before we wed you said if you wanted pleasure you would just go to the soiled doves. If a woman wants a baby, I wish there were somewhere she could go, some man she could pay to have her no matter how odious she is!” she cried, hating that she was losing control of her emotions yet unable to stop the rage and hurt boiling in her.
“Odious?” His hand halted in midair as he reached for his hat.
“Men do as they please, have the children they please, treat their women and children as they please—”
“What do you mean no matter how odious she is?”
“You know damned well what I mean,” she flung at him, furious with him and hurting because it had taken all her courage to make her request after months of thinking about another precious baby.
He crossed the room toward her.
“You get away from me!”
“It isn’t because I find you odious, Crystal. I don’t want to be hurt again. I don’t want to lose another woman and have to find a mother for Jacob again.”
“Stop it!” Blind with anger, she didn’t believe him. Tears streamed down her face, infuriating her even more that she had lost control. “No man has ever wanted me, not here, not in Cheyenne, not in Baltimore!”
“Baltimore? Someone hurt you—”
“You get out!” she cried and picked up a pan to throw at him. He ducked and it sailed over his head and crashed against the wall behind him. “Harvey was supposed to marry me, but he refused. All you have to be involved with me for is one night. You can’t even stand that! Men do find me odious—”
“Odious? Men find you odious? The hell they do! Zachary is almost blind with infatuation. Turtle River couldn’t stop looking at you tonight,” Travis said, his voice growing quiet. Crossing the room to her with a determined gleam in his eye, he ducked a flying tin cup that struck behind him. As she picked up a plate, his hand banded her wrist tightly. His arm swept around her w
aist.
“The last thing I find you is odious.” He ground out the words in a husky voice. “My God, Crystal!” His dark eyes held fires as he looked into her eyes. He lowered his head, his mouth coming down over hers as his arm tightened and he pulled her against him.
Stunned, Crystal had one moment of shock before a flooding wave of hot desire burst inside her with the press of his mouth on hers. His lips were warm, tender, yet insistent. His tongue was hot and wet against her mouth. Her anger and argument went up in flames of passion.
His lips opened hers and his tongue thrust into her mouth in possession and demand. His tongue stroked the inside of her mouth, sending fiery trails that spiraled down inside her. Need and desire rocked her, waking sensations that she had never experienced. She had never known a man’s kiss like his. His tongue was deep in her mouth, moving and stroking and destroying the last faint vestiges of anger, replacing it with white-hot desire.
She moaned softly, starting to wrap her arms around his neck, and then realized she was holding a plate. She let it drop and heard a crash, the sound dim in the roaring of her pulse.
His arm held her tightly while his other hand was wound in her hair, tilting her head up as he kissed her until she clung to him, her hips pressing tightly against him. She felt his arousal, stirring her more as she realized just how he was responding to her. And she felt him tremble.
She hadn’t imagined it could ever be like this between a man and a woman. She had felt vague yearnings, but nothing that was like a dam bursting and flooding her, carrying her away on a rush that would never leave her where it had found her.
And if she had thought she was in love with him before, she had no words to describe this new emotion, she loved him … irrevocably, irresistibly, forever. No matter how much he rejected her. Yet this was no rejection. It was a virile, strong man who desired her and was burning her to ashes in his arms.
