"I assure you my husband won't run wild and scalp you in the night,'' Rebecca said, her manner regal. "I'd be willing to make it worth your while if you let us stay."
The clerk licked his lips. His salary was nothing to brag about, and he was not averse to taking a little money under the table now and then.
"Well, I, uh, perhaps we do have an empty room." He reached under the counter and withdrew a large brass key. "Room 22, top of the stairs to your left."
Rebecca smiled sweetly. "Thank you."
Shadow followed Rebecca up a winding staircase, keenly aware of the desk clerk's curious eyes on his back.
Room 22 was large, decorated in various shades of pink and green. Flowered paper covered the walls.
Shadow placed Rebecca's valise at the foot of the bed. "Now what?"
"I'd like to change my dress, and then go out for something to eat. Tomorrow morning, we'll inquire at every hotel and boarding house in town. If that doesn't work, we'll have to check all the doctor's offices. Don't worry," Rebecca said, laying a hand on Shadow's arm. "I'm sure we'll find her."
Shadow nodded. Somehow, he would find Hannah, no matter how long it took.
"I think we should buy you some city clothes," Rebecca suggested.
"Why?"
"So you won't look so out of place. That shirt and those pants are all right for the country, but they're out of date and a little ragged. We don't want people staring at you too hard."
Shadow nodded ruefully. It was useless to argue with the woman. What she said made sense, even if he didn't like it.
They dined at a small restaurant. In hushed tones, Rebecca instructed him to hold her chair until she was seated. He grinned wryly as he followed her instructions. While they studied the menu, she told him the proper way to order dinner. He was aware of the many curious glances sent in his direction. The word "Indian" was whispered at many tables, but no one caused any trouble and the meal passed without incident.
Back in their hotel room, he stripped off his shirt and flexed his muscles. The white man's clothing was tight, restricting, and he longed for his comfortable buckskins.
"I . . . uh, I need to get ready for bed," Rebecca said, suddenly shy. "Would you put out the light, please?"
Shadow nodded. Pulling a blanket from the foot of the bed, he spread it out on the floor. Snuffing the lamp, he stretched out on the floor, his hands folded beneath his head. He could hear Rebecca undressing in the dark, the whisper of cotton against her flesh as she slipped into her nightgown.
"Goodnight," she murmured.
"Goodnight,"
Rebecca was soon asleep, but Shadow lay awake for a long time, listening to the sounds of the city. Somewhere, Hannah was hearing the same sounds. Soon, she would be beside him again. Soon.
Rebecca smiled as Shadow stepped from the tailor shop. How handsome he looked in a black suit and tie. The crisp linen shirt emphasized his dark good looks, the cut of the suit showed off his broad shoulders and long legs. Several women paused to stare at him as they passed by, their eyes openly admiring what they saw. He was very male; few women could see him and not take a moment to appreciate his rugged good looks and muscular build.
With an air of proud possession, Rebecca stepped up and slipped her arm through his. "Shall we go?" she asked brightly, and grinned as she felt the envious glances of the other women.
They started at the near end of town and stopped at each hotel, and always the answer was the same: "Sorry, no one here by that name."
When they reached the end of the main street, they crossed to the other side and began working their way back down. Finally, at the Palace Hotel, the clerk nodded.
"Yes, we have a Kincaid registered here, a Mr. Samuel Kincaid."
"What room?" Shadow asked, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice.
"Room 29."
"Thank you," Rebecca said, and hurried after Two Hawk Flying, who was already racing up the stairs. She caught up with him outside the door of room 29, her heart hammering at the thought of meeting the woman of Two Hawks Flying. Now that they had reached the end of their search, Two Hawks Flying would have no further need of her help. The thought filled her with sadness. His presence had cheered her days, giving purpose to her life. The thought of going back to her lonely house was suddenly depressing; her life, once so serene, now seemed empty.
She glanced at the door as it swung open to reveal a big man dressed in brown twill pants and a tan shirt.
"Shadow!" the man exclaimed, grinning broadly. "Well, I'll be damned. Come on in, son. Damn, but I'm glad to see you."
Kincaid ushered his visitors inside and closed the door.
"Nehyo!" A young voice shrieked the Cheyenne word for father as Heecha hurled himself into Shadow's arms.
"Naha," Shadow said in a choked voice. Sweeping his son into his arms, he hugged him tight.
Mary came out of her bedroom, wiping sleep from her eyes. At the sight of her father, she flew to his side, her hands clutching at his pant leg. "Nehyo! Nehyo!"
Bending, Shadow scooped his daughter into his other arm.
Rebecca blinked back tears as she watched the children hug and kiss their father, both chattering a mile a minute as they poured out a dozen questions.
"Hold on, little ones," Shadow said. "Where is your mother?"
"She is living with a white man," Heecha said, his joy ebbing.
Shadow's eyes sought his father-in-law's face. "What white man?"
"Berdeen," Kincaid answered.
Disbelief showed in Shadow's eyes. "Berdeen is dead."
Kincaid shook his head. "No. He is alive and Hannah is living with him. They have a house not far from here."
Rage flamed in Shadow's eyes. Slowly, he put Heecha and Mary down. His hands curled into tight fists.
"Shadow, before you get yourself all worked up, let me explain. Hannah has amnesia."
"What is amnesia?" Shadow asked in a tight voice.
"It's a sickness. When she got hurt back on the reservation, she hit her head. She doesn't remember anything."
Shadow frowned. "What do you mean?"
"She doesn't remember you, or the children, or anything that happened before the accident. We ran into Joshua here in New York. She is his wife."
"No! She is mine."
"Not according to the white man's law. She belongs to Berdeen."
Rebecca pressed a hand over her mouth as she saw Shadow's face grow black with anger and jealousy. She was reminded of the three men who had tried to abuse her and she felt a sudden pity for the man called Joshua Berdeen. If Shadow had coldbloodedly killed men who had tried to attack a woman who was only a friend, what would he do to the man who had taken his wife?
"Where does Berdeen live?"
"I'll take you there myself," Kincaid replied.
"I do not need any help in taking back what is mine."
Kincaid grinned ruefully. "I know. I just want to be there in case Hannah needs me."
Shadow nodded. There was always a chance that Berdeen would emerge victorious. Hannah would need her father then, because no matter who won the coming battle, Berdeen would not survive.
"Shall. I wait for you here?" Rebecca asked.
She put the question to Two Hawks Flying, but it was the older man who replied. "Please stay until we return," Kincaid said, smiling at Rebecca. "I'm Hannah's father, Sam Kincaid. Forgive my bad manners for not introducing myself sooner."
"Of course," Rebecca said. In the excitement of their arrival, no introductions had been made. Now she held out her hand. "I'm Rebecca Matthews."
"Pleased to meet you, ma'am."
"Call me Rebecca, please."
Kincaid nodded. He had many questions he wanted to ask, but he was unsure how to phrase them. Who was this lovely woman, and how did she happen to be with Shadow? Was she married? How long was she going to be in town? Was she married?
Rebecca smiled. "Shadow is an old friend," she said, answering one of Kincaid's unspoken question
s. "I helped him once, a long time ago, when he was in trouble."
"I see." Kincaid glanced at Shadow.
"When I found out Hannah was alive, I went to Rebecca and asked her to help me find her."
Kincaid nodded. It was easy to see that Shadow felt only friendship for the woman, and just as easy to see that the woman was in love with Shadow.
"Please wait here," Kincaid said to Rebecca. "Perhaps you'd let me take you out to dinner later on?"
"Yes," Rebecca said. "I think I'd like that."
"Good. Shadow, let me tell Mrs. Clancy we're leaving. She's been looking after the children for me."
Shadow nodded impatiently. He was eager to see Hannah, to hold her in his arms. And almost as eager to put his knife into Berdeen's flesh.
Kincaid returned moments later, a sixgun shoved into the waistband of his trousers.
"Nehyo, take me with you."
Shadow dropped to one knee before his son. "Not this time, naha. I will be back soon, and then we will all go back home."
"You will come back? You promise?"
"I promise." Shadow hugged his son tightly, kissed his daughter on the cheek, and then walked briskly out of the room.
With a sigh, Kincaid followed him.
Kincaid knocked on the door of the Berdeen home three times, then shrugged. "I guess they're not home."
"I will wait," Shadow said. "Inside."
"Door's locked," Kincaid said, trying the latch.
Pivoting on his heel, Shadow went down the porch steps and rounded the corner of the house. There was the faint sound of breaking glass; a moment later, Shadow opened the front door.
Kincaid stepped inside, whistled under his breath. The house was empty. He could feel it even before they checked the closets and rooms upstairs.
Shadow's rage exloded then. Grabbing a fireplace poker, he lashed out in fury, smashing lamps, pictures, bric-a-brac, breaking windows and mirrors.
Kincaid stayed out of the way, letting Shadow vent his frustration. Only a fool would have drawn Shadow's anger to himself, and Kincaid was no fool.
Finally, Shadow dropped the poker. He stood in the center of the parlor, surrounded by broken glass and furniture, his sides heaving, his dark eyes smoldering.
"Damn," Kincaid murmured. "I wonder what spooked him."
"Where would he go?" Shadow asked.
"I don't know. He could have gone anywhere. You go back to the hotel. I'll check the train station. Maybe somebody wll remember seeing them. If I don't have any luck there, I'll try the livery stable."
"I will go with you."
"No. It'll be better if I go alone. If anybody thinks you're after Berdeen, they won't tell us a thing. There's murder written all over your face."
"You go," Shadow said with a wry grin. "I will wait for you at the hotel."
Rebecca was sitting on the sofa with Heecha and Mary when Shadow returned to the hotel. One look at his face told her everything she needed to know.
"Where is Nahkoa?" Mary asked.
"I do not know, little one," Shadow answered heavily. "The white man has taken her away. But I will find her. I promise."
Looking at him, Rebecca knew he would not fail.
Rebecca Matthews smiled shyly at Sam Kincaid the following morning. It was a little unsettling, sharing a hotel suite with a man she had only met the day before. The children could not be considered adequate chaperones, and she knew her reputation was ruined. A single woman sharing a suite with two men? It simply wasn't done. But only dynamite could have blasted her from the hotel. She had to stay, had to know the final outcome of Shadow's search for his woman.
Kincaid had returned to the hotel the night before with the news that a man answering Joshua Berdeen's description had bought an old Conestoga wagon and four good horses. The man at the livery barn did not recall seeing a woman with Berdeen. Two Hawks Flyingshe never could remember to call him Shadow like everyone elsehad left early this morning. Rebecca was at a loss to know how Two Hawks Flying would ever find Berdeen when he had no clue as to the man's destination. Berdeen could be headed for Mexico or Canada or any of the states and territories in between. And yet, despite the monumental odds involved, Rebecca knew deep within her heart that Two Hawks Flying would not give up until he found Hannah.
Hannah. What attributes did this paragon of womanhood possess that two men were so determined to have her?
''Good morning, Mrs. Matthews," Kincaid said cheerfully. "Would you care to go downstairs and have some breakfast?"
"Yes, I'd like that," Rebecca said, putting all thoughts of Hannah and Two Hawks Flying aside for the moment.
"Good. Shall we go?"
"Will the children be dining with us?"
"No. They were up early this morning to see Shadow off. They've already eaten and gone back to bed."
Breakfast was a congenial meal. Rebecca told Sam about her home, about Beth, and about the time she had saved Shadow's life. Sam told Rebecca about his wife, Mary, and how she had been killed by Indians back in '76. He told her how he had barely escaped with his own life, and how he had been reunited with Hannah and Shadow at the Rosebud Reservation.
Unbelievably, two hours passed.
Later, they walked through the town, pausing now and then to window-shop. Rebecca exclaimed over the latest fashions; Kincaid grumbled about the high price of tobacco.
When they tired of walking, they stopped at a sweet shop for a cup of coffee and a slice of rich French pastry. Rebecca smiled at Kincaid as he held her chair for her. He was a charming man, she thought as she sat down and gracefully spread her skirts around her. She could not remember when she'd had a nicer time, or felt more at ease with another person. He was so easy to talk to. He was not as handsome as Two Hawks Flying. Not so young, not quite so fascinating. And yet she had no complaints. He was big and strong, nice-looking for a man his age, which she judged to be about fifty. They were never at a loss for words. Surprisingly, there was never any awkwardness between them as there was so often between strangers.
In the afternoon, they picked up Heecha and Mary and went for a drive along Millionaire's Row. It was difficult to say who was more dazzled by the splendid mansions, the children or the adults. They all gazed in wide-eyed admiration at the beautiful homes, most of which had been copied from medieval castles, palaces, or chateaus.
Rebecca thought the homes looked grand. The turrets reminded her of stories about England and Robin Hood. The Vanderbilt mansion at Fifth Avenue and Fifty-Eighth Street looked more like a cathedral than a home. It was rumored that it took the combined efforts of thirty servants to cater to its needs.
"This is where the kings live," Kincaid told Heecha and Mary as they drove along the street.
"Kings?" Heecha repeated. "What kind of kings?"
"All kinds. Oil kings, railroad kings, sugar kings, silver kings, tobacco kings."
"What kinds of kings are those?" Mary wanted to know.
"The rich kind." Kincaid smiled at his grandchildren. They had no real concept of money. They had been raised where money was virtually nonexistent.
It was a good way to grow up, he thought, but how much longer could they live that way? Civilization was spreading across the face of the land. First there were only a few houses, then someone opened a small store and the next thing you knew, you had a bank and a church and soon you had a new city on your hands.
Kincaid frowned as he looked at the monstrous houses along Millionaire's Row. Given a choice, he thought he much preferred the little place he had built with his own two hands back in Bear Valley to these pretentious houses with their lofty ceilings and leaded windows and crystal chandeliers.
That night, they ate an early dinner and then, after seeing the children off to bed, they went to the Metropolitan Opera House.
Rebecca tried to concentrate on the play, but she was too conscious of the man sitting beside her. She was drawn to him, and she wondered how she could find him so attractive when she was in love with Two Hawks Fly
ing. She must be in love with Two Hawks Flying, why else would he have the power to stir her desires to such a high peak?
She was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to realize it was intermission until Kincaid tugged gently on her sleeve.
"Mrs. Matthews?"
"What? Oh, I'm sorry, I guess I was daydreaming."
"The play is a little silly," Kincaid remarked. "Do you want to stay for the rest of it?"
"Do you?"
"Not really. I'd just as soon go somewhere and have a cup of coffee."
"If you like."
Kincaid took Rebecca's elbow and guided her up the aisle. "Hard to believe the Goulds and the Vanderbilts shelled out sixty thousand dollars for a box in this place when it opened back in '83," he remarked as they stepped outside. "Of course, I guess sixty thousand is just a drop in the bucket when you're a millionaire."
"I guess," Rebecca agreed, laughing softly. "Although sixty thousands sounds like a million to me."
"Yeah," Kincaid allowed. He smiled down at her. "Nice night."
"Beautiful."
"I hate to see it end."
"Me, too."
Rebecca returned his smile and Kincaid felt like throwing his hat into the air and shouting out loud. By damn, she was a pretty woman and when she smiled at him, he felt like he was sixteen and in love for the first time all over again.
They walked for hours, oblivious to the other people on the streets, oblivious to the time or the place. It was well after midnight when they returned to the hotel. And still they were reluctant to part.
"I guess it's getting late," Kincaid lamented.
"Is it?"
"Yeah."
"I had a wonderful time tonight," Rebecca said, giving him a radiant smile.
"I'm glad. Would you, ah, mind spending tomorrow night with me, too?"
"Mind?" Rebecca laughed happily. "I'd love it."
"Good. Well, goodnight then,"
They were standing at the door to Rebecca's bedroom, but she made no move to open the door. She didn't want to leave him, did not want the night to end.
"Rebecca." Kincaid breathed her name like a sigh. Then, slowly, but knowing he would not be rebuffed, he kissed her goodnight.
They could part then. The words hadn't been said, no questions had been asked, but both knew that their lives would be entwined from that night on.
Reckless Love Page 13
