Forbidden Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  Her decision to pay for the room seemed to settle the disquieting matter between them. “I know this past year has been hard on you, Alisha, but I do think that’s best,” Powchutu advised. “You don’t want to be in his debt. Another thing, make sure you keep this door locked at all times. Don’t ever allow him inside this room when you’re alone,” he needlessly warned her.

  She lowered the flame on one lantern and doused the lights in the other two. She cautiously checked the fire to see if the flames were under control. Noting the soft glow of the coals, Alisha felt it was safe to leave the fire unattended. She picked up her key and announced she was ready to have dinner. Powchutu led the way out of her room, then hesitated while she locked her door. He happened to glance down the hallway to find the young girl observing them in an intense and curious manner. Catching Powchutu’s keen stare, the proprietor’s niece scurried away like a frightened fawn.

  Powchutu shrugged his powerful shoulders as he dismissed the girl’s interest. He simply reasoned she was only curious about a beautiful lady like his Alisha. He failed to mention this weird incident to Alisha. Instead, he gently took her by the arm and led her downstairs to the large dining hall.

  It being Christmas Eve, the small crowd was genial and merry. They chatted and joked in several small groups. Near the far end of the long narrow room was a highbacked piano. On its bench sat a wizened old man. His bristled, gray hair was chaotic and dirty. His scraggly beard desperately needed clipping and shaping. His attire was rumpled and soiled. Yet, he possessed the warmest, brightest, slate blue eyes Alisha had ever seen.

  The piano man’s mellow voice surprised Alisha. She briefly halted in her tracks as she stopped to listen to his stirring rendition of her favorite Christmas song.

  Seeing she was caught up in her emotions, Powchutu permitted the old man to finish his carol before taking her elbow and guiding her to the table where the young girl was waiting to serve them their dinner. He courteously seated Alisha, then sat down opposite her at the small square table. Carefully scrutinizing the dining room, they both decided it was clean and efficient. Pleased with their good fortune, they exchanged a warm and knowing smile.

  Alisha turned to speak to the girl, but she was once again gone without a sound. It was but minutes before she returned, laden with two heavy plates of aromatic food and a pot of hot coffee. Alisha was astonished at the girl’s ability to juggle so many hot dishes at one time. She reached out to assist her, then decided she would be more of a hindrance than of a help. It felt strange to be waited upon again after such a long time of serving someone else.

  She studied the comely girl before her, busily setting down their dishes and food. She judged her to be about seventeen years old, evidently mute, but not deaf. When spoken to, she would nod or smile meekly. He auburn hair hung in two heavy braids down her slender back. The drab sack dress disguised her voluptuous figure, but not her agile movements. Countless freckles played across the bridge of her pug nose and pallid cheeks. Her features were clear—except for her eyes.

  There, Alisha discovered a complex mystery. Mary O’Hara had what Alisha’s father would have called oxeyes: large, calm, and velvety brown. The perplexity came with their curious and confusing messages. At times they spoke of innocence and ignorance; other times, Alisha could read more knowledge and astute perception than she herself possessed at twenty years old. Mary’s aura intimated shyness; yet, she radiated warmth. She looked fragile and delicate; yet, she seemed resilient and strong. In the end, Alisha was utterly puzzled by this mysterious, silent girl.

  Putting aside her examination of Jamie O’Hara’s comely niece, Alisha took note of the food which she had just been served: succulent steak, dried-apple cobbler, lightly browned biscuits, savory succotash from dried corn kernels and dried beans, and hot coffee. She hastily took another sip from her cup, then jerked her head up to gaze at the grinning Mary.

  “It’s tea! You’re an absolute dear, Mary O’Hara. Wherever did you get tea way out here?” she cried in delight.

  Mary smiled at Alisha’s apparent pleasure at finding tea instead of coffee in her cup, thanks to Jeffery’s foresight of having it sent over for her. She made a little curtsy and hurried back toward the kitchen. Alisha began to slowly and appreciatively devour the hearty meal before her. She glanced up at Powchutu’s muttered curse. His eyes and expression spoke of a resentment which she did not understand.

  “What’s the matter, Paul? The food is wonderful,” she remarked, licking her lips in delight.

  “It should be,” he snapped in surly annoyance. “This fare is also compliments of Lieutenant Gordon. We seem to be the only ones eating such a costly meal and drinking expensive tea.”

  Alisha’s gaze slowly roamed the food on several other nearby plates: fried chicken, biscuits, gravy, and coffee. Her gaze came back to her own sumptuous plate. “See what I mean? I’d be willing to bet he ordered this meal just for you! Interfering ass!” he snarled.

  “Do you want to send it back and ask Mary to serve us the regular fare?” she inquired just to placate him. “Honestly I don’t mind. I’m so hungry that I could eat a raw snake,” she teased to lighten his black temper.

  Powchutu shook his head. “No need. We might as well enjoy Gordon’s hospitality and foolishness,” he sneered contemptuously. “Plus it might draw too much attention if we refused it.”

  She smiled faintly, then returned to her food. Part of the pleasure gone from their dinner, they ate in silence and listened to the old man at the piano. Not long after finishing, Powchutu escorted her back to her room. He cautiously waited until he heard the bolt pushed into place before retiring to his own room.

  Without bothering to undress, he flung himself across the loud red bedspread. With his black eyes glued to the dingy ceiling, he set his mind to work on this new development. He couldn’t decide what to do about Jeffery’s unexpected survival, or what to think about this abrupt change in Alisha’s feelings toward Gordon. It was almost as if she were enjoying the lieutenant’s intrusion into her life. He fretted over what was said between them on the pier, for he doubted she had given him all the details. Afterwards, her behavior had been odd and stilted. Powchutu was positive that Jeffery was up to some devious trick; but what, he could not yet surmise.

  Alisha walked over to the window. She pushed aside the soft curtain and peered out into the moonlit shadows. She was totally exhausted, but her mind was still racing. For the present, she could see no way to avoid a choice between Jeffery and Powchutu. Every path her thoughts took was besieged with perils and difficulties. There appeared no safe ground. She could hurt Powchutu deeply with her submission to his formidable enemy Jeffery, or she could endanger both their lives by refusing his attentions once more. The near impossibility of a safe escape from here had been made clear to her earlier that evening on that fateful dock.

  Alert to her enchanting surroundings, it was evident that Jeffery was not wasting any time or effort in forcing her positive decision. Although he was demanding marriage this time, she shuddered to think of any type of life with him. Surely he had some wicked, insidious plan in mind. She could not contemplate what it might be. For all she knew, it might encompass revenge toward all three of them: Powchutu, herself, and Gray Eagle. Perhaps he viewed a blow to her as a vicious strike on all of them.

  She slipped out of her dress and lay it across the sofa. She removed her moccasins and sat them upon the floor. She went to the bed and straightened the covers. After loosely braiding her long hair to avoid tangles, she lay down upon the soft and enticing bed. She pulled the covers up and tucked them beneath her chin.

  “What shall I do now?” she murmured. “Do I hurt you deeply, Powchutu, or do I save your life? I cannot even reveal his cruel demand to you. Why does he want marriage? Why not whoredom as before?” An idea shot into her troubled mind. Her heart lurched joyfully. “Joe… I must get a message to Joe. He’ll know how to handle this deadly situation. Joe,” she murmured, then gave herself u
p to restful slumber.

  Chapter Eleven

  Two days passed before Alisha could arrange to have her private talk with Hiram Bigsley concerning the money her uncle had left in his keeping the year before. Powchutu spent those days checking out the settlement and looking for some type of work. Other times he escorted Alisha around to view the sights. They ate all of their meals together in the large dining room, then strolled outside in the fresh, crisp air.

  Alisha occupied herself with resting, observing, and planning. When’ she went to the mercantile store to purchase material for clothing, she was delighted to learn she could buy several dresses already made. She discovered that many women were frequently forced to trade their clothing for much-needed supplies. Using the money which Powchutu had given to her, she purchased three dresses, a pair of leather shoes, material for undergarments, a comb and brush, ribbons, and sewing supplies.

  By the time two days had gone by, Alisha had the three dresses fitting her perfectly. She also made two camisoles, two long petticoats, one batiste night gown, and three pairs of bloomers. At long last, she no longer felt like an ugly duckling or appeared the pitiful orphan. Her spirits soared, and a light tranquility settled in on her previously frayed nerves. She rubbed her strained eyes, but felt ecstatic with her progress with her wardrobe.

  Jeffery made certain to stay clear of both Alisha and the scout, hoping not to panic them into fleeing. Now that he had his men alerted to his interest in Alisha, it was doubtful she could get two feet outside of St. Louis without his knowledge or permission. Besides, he had an excellent spy in little, speechless Mary O’Hara. Neither Alisha nor Powchutu could move or breathe without his knowing about it…

  On their third day in St. Louis, Alisha was shown into Hiram Bigsley’s somber, cramped office to await his arrival. She sat down in an over-large wooden chair near a grimy, sooty window. Before she could study the messy office, an immaculately dressed man came in to join her.

  Greeting her, Hiram walked around his cluttered desk and seated himself. He silently shuffled several papers aside upon his massive desk, searching for her uncle’s records. At last he located what he had been looking for. He carefully and intensely studied the figures and words written upon that yellowed page, as if he did not recall each one in detail.

  As she patiently waited for him to begin their discussion, Alisha furtively assessed this spirited man whom she had liked that first moment she met him so long ago. He was about forty-five years old; yet, he had an ageless vitality. His one distracting feature was his hair. Although it was well-combed and neatly clipped, it was of a washed-out reddish shade. His probing brown eyes were clear and calm at the present. In fact, they almost concealed themselves beneath two bushy eyebrows. His complexion was slightly marked by smallpox scars. His body was short of stature, but solidly built.

  Hiram Bigsley was a self-assured, intelligent man. He could be firm and strict, but also kind and generous. He had opened this mercantile business when he was only twenty years old. He had bravely and persistently survived bitter winters, bandits, renegade braves, and torrid summers. He had mounted the bottom rung of the success ladder, then gradually worked his way to the very top. He was easy-going and pleasant. Alisha swiftly decided she admired and respected him. Too, she enjoyed his company and honesty.

  Hiram finally glanced up at the beautiful, young lady who was sitting near him. For the second time within a year or so, he concluded she was too exquisite and well-bred for this exacting territory which could extract a man’s very soul. To him, she belonged in an elegant French gown sitting in a fragrant rose garden on some duke’s estate in England, serving tea and scones to her wealthy guests.

  “Your message said Thad died of a fever? Too bad. He was a smart and friendly man. I tried to talk him into remaining here and opening another business with me. There’s a lot of opportunities for men with his know-how and willpower. Thad reminded me of myself when I came out here, bright-eyed and eager. It’s a shame to see his life wasted out there,” he said solemnly.

  “Yes, it was a terrible waste,” Alisha said with feeling. “This is a very cruel and taxing territory. I don’t think I shall ever fully accept his sudden loss. If it wasn’t for his insight and wisdom, I don’t know what I would do right now. I never realized money and safety were so important until this past year.”

  Hiram glanced down at the paper in his hand once more, wondering how to break his weighty news to her. “Alisha, I know you’ve been through some mighty hard times since coming here and with your uncle dying so unexpectedly. Thank goodness your brother showed up when he did. This isn’t a country for a fine, young lady like you. I’ll feel much better knowing you’re leaving here in the spring,” he stated, certain she understood his sincerity and motives.

  “I can hardly wait to head for real civilization, Mr. Bigsley,” Alisha stated emphatically. “You’re right; this is definitely not the place for me. If I ever doubted it before, I know now that I possess no frontier fever at all. I live for the day when I can go home,” she confessed with a wistful glow in her emerald eyes. “With Uncle Thad’s money, that will be possible. Home at last…” she murmured in relief.

  Hiram shuffled uneasily in his chair. “I hate to burden you with more bad news. But with your brother here, that should help some.”

  With rising alarm, she fearfully inquired, “I don’t follow you. My uncle did leave some money here with you, didn’t he?” Dread knotted her stomach as she hoped this kindly man was not about to cheat her out of her survival key. Thad had trusted him; Joe trusted him. Yet, if he claimed there was no money, she could do nothing to dispute his word.

  “Yes, he did, Alisha. The problem is that the money was in English currency. I’m afraid it isn’t worth very much since the war broke out between us. Most people either want gold or silver, or this new American money.” He tried to calmly inform her of her misfortune.

  She whitened. “You mean… I… The money is worthless,” she stammered in painful realization.

  “Not exactly worthless, Alisha, just not as valuable as it was when Thad left it here with me,” he hurriedly explained at the sight of her distress. “When I got hint of what was coming, I traded all the English pounds I had for silver and gold. I’d say you have enough to make it through the winter here, but not much more than that. Things get mighty expensive and sparse during that time. I do advise you to tell your brother to find some work to earn travelling money,” he remarked, still wondering why Paul Williams had not attended this vital meeting. He should be at his sister’s side when such devastating news was cast upon her. Curious that he had not even known about a brother or his timely arrival…

  “Lots of the trappers around here hire men to help them out during the trapping season. Also, some of the business folk hire helpers to hunt fresh meat for them. Maybe Jamie O’Hara will hire him to help supply meat for his Horne House. I wish I could be more encouraging, but that’s how it is this time of year,” he declared uneasily.

  Alisha stood up and aimlessly paced around the room as this distressing announcement settled in on her. Countless ideas came to her turbulent mind, but were rapidly dismissed for one reason or another. She gradually decided it was at least a blessing they had enough money for food and shelter for the overshadowing winter. Recalling Joe’s message, she inquired as to the whereabouts of a Moses Johnson..

  He eyed her oddly, then ventured, “What would you be wanting with that old skinflint?”

  She smiled warmly, then discreetly replied, “We spent some time with Joe Kenny on our way here. I wanted to send a message by Moses to let him know we arrived here safely. Joe was the one who told me about Uncle Thad’s money. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have known it existed. I was hoping to repay him for his generosity. I do appreciate everything you’ve done for us, Mr. Bigsley. But I am terribly disappointed and worried. Yet, any money at all is better than none. Looks as if it will take longer to get back home than planned.” She laughed optimistically, bring
ing a genial smile to Hiram’s taut face.

  “You’re a wonder, Miss Alisha. Most females would be crying their eyes out over such news. I’m glad to see you’re taking it in stride. Do you want me to hold the money until you need it or give it to you in small amounts along the way? Carrying around any amount of money in this settlement can be dangerous and foolish. Men get reckless and desperate when winter closes in.”

  Alisha sought the best way to apprise Hiram of her destitute condition. “I’m afraid I’ll need all of it right now, Mr. Bigsley. You see, Paul and I ran into bad fortune on our way here. While we were out of our camp one day, two trappers raided it and stole all of our supplies, except for a small amount of money in Paul’s pocket. Thankfully, Paul had insisted I accompany him while he was out hunting! Joe was kind enough to take us in and assist us. We couldn’t have survived without his aid. He furnished us with almost everything we have now. Paul has been looking for a job for the past two days, but without any success so far. We’ll require the money to live on this winter. Plus, we’ll need clothing and other supplies immediately. Lieutenant Gordon is an old friend of ours, and he has kindly given us his hospitality until I could meet with you and work out our business.” Alisha shrewdly dropped these whitewashed facts to avoid Hiram’s suspicion and curiosity.

  Wanting to forestall any delay, Alisha said, “Mr. Bigsley, this news is most disconcerting. If it is permissible, I’ll send Paul over later for the money. As you pointed out, it would be unwise for me to carry the money with me. We certainly cannot risk losing what little we have left.”

  If Hiram was disturbed by her subtle demand for her money, he did not let on. He readily accepted her claim to it. He agreed to have it ready for Powchutu to retrieve later in the day. He and Alisha shared light conversation for a few more minutes before she announced she should return to the Horne House for lunch. He graciously saw her to the front door of his establishment and bid her a cordial farewell.