Refusing to let his unwavering stare unnerve her, Analisa waited, hands on hips, harnessing her temper before she answered him. She pulled aside a lock of hair driven across her lips by the incessant wind. “Of course I can ride.”
It was nearly the truth, she assured herself. It had been true five years ago, for Analisa had learned to ride on the journey west. Why should she tell him she hadn’t ridden since?
“I ain’t takin’ no buckboard, and there ain’t no fancy sidesaddles.” He spat as if to emphasize his distaste.
She wondered what a sidesaddle was. “I don’t mind.”
Analisa pulled her sweater tight against the wind and watched him squint at the sky from beneath the brim of the battered hat that looked as if it single-handedly won the war.
“Don’t look like the weather’s done actin’ up yet.”
Exasperated, but aware that Zach was her only hope of visiting the reservation, Analisa held her tongue. He seemed content to let her stand awkwardly awaiting his answer. She decided to quit begging and try a new tack.
“The wind has blown the storm out. Even now it seems calmer than when I walked over here. I’ll be ready about noon, Mr. Elliot. I’ll fix you dinner before we go.”
Zach settled back against the wall of the building, tossed aside the wood he had been holding, and used the knife point to flick a chunk of dried mud off the side of his boot. Unexpected fear gripped Analisa the moment she noticed a long rawhide thong ornamented with colored trade beads dangling from the carved handle. Her eyes traveled from Zach’s knife to his face. Analisa thought she saw him staring at her curiously.
“You wouldn’t be tryin’ to bribe me, would you now, Miz de la Vega?”
“If I have to, I will.” She raised her chin a notch and saw his stern lower lip twitch with a smile. His mustache hid his expressions well, but she sensed a crack in his reserve.
“Then I guess I’ll have to get to your house a little before noon so’s I can collect my bribe.”
“Fine.” Thinking the exchange over, she started to turn away. His next words stopped her.
“What does Señor de la Vega think about your wantin’ to trek out and stare at the curiosities?”
“He does not dictate to me, Mr. Elliot.”
“Nope. I imagine not.”
“What do you mean ... curiosities?”
“Oh, jest wonderin’ why a nice, clean city lady such as yourself wants to ride into a Sioux agency. I didn’t take you as the type who’d get a thrill out of lookin’ at the poor caged-up critters that live out there. Just sight-seein’, ma’am? It ain’t a pretty picture.”
“The major suggested that I might find the visit interesting. There may be something I could do to help.”
“Most of those folks don’t need any more ‘help.’ “
His expression challenged her, but she ignored his comment.
“I’ll see you at noon, then.”
Without waiting for his reply, Analisa turned and crossed the muddy stable yard. She watched every step, carefully avoiding the deep horseshoe depressions filled with trapped rainwater and mud. She’d donned her thick wooden clogs and welcomed the familiar feel of the smooth wood against the thick woolen socks that protected her feet from blisters.
During the night, a weak storm front had blown across the plains, washing down the dust and unlocking the heady scent of the surrounding countryside. Early spring wildflowers in bloom on the prairie filled the air with their fragrance. Analisa inhaled deeply, her senses awakening with the change of weather and signs of spring.
Once clear of the uneven ground near the stables, she walked along the narrow, hard-packed road that wound its way past the buildings of the fort. The plains spread out in every direction, gently rolling swells of land reminiscent of the Atlantic. Enjoying the view, Analisa let her gaze wander as she lengthened her stride and inhaled deeply of the myriad scents clinging to the clean air. She wondered where Caleb might be now. He’d left again that morning, having stayed at home longer than he’d planned to. As soon as he had ridden out of sight, Analisa had come to ask Zach to accompany her to the Sioux agency. She’d lied to Zach, for before Caleb left he had expressly forbidden her to visit the reservation with anyone.
Recognizing Tor Jensen among a group of enlisted men across the parade ground, Analisa waved, then remembered he was on duty. Even so he nodded slightly in her direction, sharing a secret smile of greeting.
She continued along the road that edged the parade ground and curved to front the row of private housing. As she walked, Analisa’s thoughts drifted to her confrontation with Caleb last night when he’d issued his ultimatum concerning her visit to the agency. They’d been seated at the dinner table, Kase watching them intently as he spooned thick barley beef stew into his mouth, Caleb crumbling biscuits on top of his own portion.
“Fine.” Analisa agreed on one point only. “I won’t ride out to the reservation with the major, but I see no reason why I cannot go with someone else.”
“For instance?” His eyes met hers as he continued to eat, his head lowered over his plate.
“For instance, Tor or Zach Elliot.” She knew immediately by his darkening expression that he felt them unworthy escorts.
“Anja, I can’t discuss this with you now.” He nodded toward Kase. “But I do have my reasons. I don’t want you anywhere near there.”
“That’s not fair, Caleb.”
“Fair?”
“Yes. It’s not fair that I am left to wait with nothing to do but worry while you are off God knows where.”
“It seems to me there’s more than enough to keep you busy.”
“Such as?”
She picked up the serving bowl and moved to stand at his right shoulder, the dish of stew balanced in one hand as she plopped another hearty spoonful, none too graciously, onto his plate. He shot her a warning glance out of the corner of his eye, which only tempted her to dump the entire contents of the bowl over his head. Analisa listened to him expound on ways to keep busy as she walked into the kitchen to bring back the remaining biscuits.
“Sew, read.” He glanced around the room. “Play the organ, go visiting.” Caleb looked up again as she reentered the room. “Tea parties.”
With a slam that rattled his plate against the table she set the tin of biscuits beside his spoon.
“You’ve ruled out tea parties already.”
Caleb’s eyes flashed in her direction.
“Besides,” she went on, unwilling to give up the argument, “the only other woman I am supposed to associate with is Millicent Boynton, and we are not ... not ... She’s not like me, Caleb.”
“Compatible.” He supplied the word for her.
“Yes.”
They were silent for a time while the business of eating provided the only sounds in the stillness.
“I’ve made two new dresses. The house is in order. You’ve hired a woman to do the laundry, and because I’m supposed to be a lady of quality, I’m not allowed to put in a garden. And I can’t play the organ well enough to enjoy it.”
“So, practice.” He crumbled another biscuit onto his stew.
Minutes ticked by silently, neither of them willing to continue the argument. Analisa felt a wad of tension growing in the pit of her stomach. She hated to argue with Caleb. His abrupt homecoming and the jealous scene over the major’s attention had caused enough friction, but she felt determined to fight for her own independence. If she lost ground now, what would the ensuing years hold for her? Her struggle to survive alone on the prairie had been hard fought, and Analisa was determined not to give up being her own person simply because she’d married Caleb.
“May I be excused?”
As if aware of the tension between the two adults, Kase moved quickly at Caleb’s nod of assent, slipping to the edge of the chair and stretching his toes down to reach the floor. He walked into his room without a backward glance.
Analisa stood and began to clear the plates immediately, not
bothering to ask Caleb if he cared for anything more. After two noisy trips back and forth to the kitchen, she noticed that Caleb continued to ignore the clanking and slamming of pots and pans, and chided herself for her own childish behavior. Forcing herself to calm down, she picked up the wooden bucket and went outside to the water barrel that was refilled daily by the water wagon detail. She returned and placed the bucket on the drainboard. A kettle of water simmered on the stove. She poured the dishpan half full of hot water, then added tepid water from the bucket until it was cool enough to use.
As she slipped the first dish into the pan, she heard Caleb enter the room. He placed his empty plate with the others and slipped his hands around her waist. He drew her against his length as he nuzzled her neck with his lips. “Pouting?”
The warm breath and sound of his husky voice playing about her ear nearly caused her legs to buckle as something deep within her ran liquid, like warm butter. She forced her hands to continue their task.
“Decided never to speak to me again?”
His tongue traced the shape of her ear before his teeth pulled on the lobe. Chills ran down her spine, and her hands gripped the lip of the dishpan. She tried to speak, but was forced to clear away the constricting lump in her throat.
“Caleb, please don’t try to kiss this away.”
She turned in his arms to stand facing him, locked within the circle of muscular flesh. Analisa stretched to the right to draw a dish towel off of the rope that was stretched across the corner of the room above the drainboard. Still within the boundary of his arms, she dried her hands and then raised them to his shoulders. The fingers of one hand toyed with the dark waving hair at the nape of his neck while the other dangled the dish towel behind him.
Her eyes searched his and saw his love reflected there. She knew without a doubt that Caleb loved her; it was apparent in his every action. Even his jealousy and anger over the major had sprung from his love for her. Analisa realized in that moment that more anger on her part would not persuade Caleb to share the secret of his mission. She would call upon her love for him to gain his trust and help unlock the reason behind his frequent absence.
Tipping her head back, she welcomed his kiss. His tongue teased, as smooth as velvet against her own parted lips before it delved deeper. Her hand tightened around the satin hair that spilled almost to his shoulders while the dish towel fluttered forgotten to the floor. As the exchange slowly ended and Caleb raised his head, Analisa drew a deep breath. Her eyes returned his heated stare measure for measure, and she felt him teasingly rub against her in invitation.
“You can do the dishes tomorrow after I’ve gone.”
Although he’d told her earlier that he would leave the next morning, she’d pushed the thought away. She took a deep breath, hating to dispel the warmth surrounding her, and hoped Caleb would understand.
“Caleb, when you asked me to marry you, for my sake, and for Kase’s—I did. When you went away to Boston, I waited. I moved here when you asked ... but I cannot go through any more waiting without knowing where you are or what you are doing or why.” She tried to appeal to his heart. Would it hear her when his mind would not? “Fear is making me crazy, Caleb. I love you, but I refuse to be afraid anymore.”
He pulled her close and held her gently, passion replaced by something more, something true and lasting. Analisa sensed it in his stillness, his thoughtfulness. She heard him sigh before he released her.
“Come,” he said. “It’s time we talked.”
The sight of Millicent Boynton standing on Analisa’s front porch interrupted her reminiscence. Although the clear April air was brisk, the wind blowing gently, the woman was bundled up in a full-length fitted coat, the collar sporting a jaunty fur trim. Analisa wondered what Millicent wore during the dead of winter. Straightening her sweater, Analisa waved as she approached. Millicent stepped off of the porch and waited for Analisa to join her. As was her usual habit, Millicent inspected her from head to toe, her gaze lingering on the wooden clogs and thick woolen stockings. She made no comment on the footgear, but greeted Analisa with unusual warmth.
“Hello! I just came over to give you the news.” Millicent smiled up radiantly at Analisa, her usually dour expression missing, her pale cheeks pink with excitement. “I’ve received word from my sister-in-law that she’ll be arriving today. That means we will have to make plans for the soiree. Can you come over this afternoon?”
“I have plans.” Analisa knew the woman would not be content without further explanation. “Zach wants to take Kase out riding and I want to go along. Perhaps we should wait and include your sister-in-law in the planning?”
Millicent frowned, the lines formed about her eyes and lips aging her instantly. Then, as suddenly as her features had darkened, they cleared. “Why, you might be right! That will give me time to get everything else ready before she gets here. Doesn’t the steamboat arrive in the late afternoon?”
“Ours did,” Analisa assured her, recalling the steamboats that plied the Missouri carrying every type of cargo—human, animal, and otherwise. A nearby landing at the bend in the river served both Fort Sully and the Indian agency. At the sound of the steamboat whistle, a detail was sent to the dock to transport passengers and supplies to the fort. Analisa had gotten her first glimpse of the outpost from the swaying seat of a wagon loaded high with their household goods.
“Well, I’ll just have to wait until I hear the whistle. Hasn’t it been nearly two weeks since the last one arrived?”
“I’m not sure.”
Rattling on as if Analisa had never answered, Millicent fluffed her corkscrew curls while her eyes darted about the parade ground. More than once she glanced at the rambling administration building across the square.
“Perhaps I should give Major Williamson my thanks for sending an orderly over with the telegram?”
Analisa realized Millicent asked questions without expecting answers. Before she could respond, the woman was off with a wave of her hand, moving across the open area on short, flitting footsteps. Her bouncing yellow curls soon disappeared inside Major Williamson’s office.
“Kase?” Analisa called out as she entered the house, then nearly tripped over her son as she walked across the parlor.
“I was looking for you.” She smiled down at him and watched as he continued to line the tin soldiers up on the carpet and behind the legs of the settee. “I’m going to start dinner now, and after you eat we are going for a ride with Zach. I’ll call you when it’s time to set the table.”
“Ja, Mama.”
When they were alone she always spoke to him in Dutch, hoping that Kase would not forget his first language. He was growing so fast, she realized, as she watched him play quietly by himself. Soon he would be ready for a new pair of pants.
She bustled about the kitchen, pulling potatoes out of the sack leaning against the wall and taking onions from a drawer that served as a bin. She then began to prepare a dish of fried bacon, onions, and potatoes for Zach. It would be luxury to have fresh tomatoes and string beans again. She had seen a work detail of men turning the earth in the fort’s garden plot this morning and knew that in a few weeks’ time the results of their labors would be for sale.
At the thought of the impending visit to the Sioux agency, her stomach knotted in anticipation. She fought down the nervous feeling caused by going against Caleb’s wishes, but since their intimate conversation last night, she was more determined than ever to acquaint herself with conditions on the reservation and to meet the agent, Buff Hardy.
She added half a cup of water to the simmering mixture in the cast-iron fry pan and covered it with a lid. Within minutes she mixed and rolled out biscuit dough on the floured surface of the square cutting board. Her hands worked without pause preparing the meal while her mind recalled the details Caleb had revealed to her concerning his work for the Bureau of Indian Affairs.
“It’s time we talked.” She remembered the words he’d uttered last evening as she stood
in his embrace, her hips pressed against the kitchen bench, the warm, delicious food smells in the room tinged with the sharp scent of the lye soap in the dishpan.
His eyes had held a promise of more than lust or passion. She knew he weighed his trust in her and found her worthy. Suddenly apprehensive over the prospect of sharing his secret, Analisa had rubbed her cheek against the starched linen of his shirt and then squeezed him tightly before she pulled back to look up at him again.
“I’ll finish the dishes while you get Kase to bed. Then we’ll talk,’ she had said.
“Fair enough.”
He gave her a quick buss on the lips and released her. As he strode toward the doorway, Caleb turned and sent her a look she assumed he intended to melt her to the core. It did.
“I don’t plan to waste my entire last night at home talking, though.” His heated gaze had held her riveted to the spot long after he disappeared through the doorway. She could hear the two of them chatting together as the boy prepared for bed.
Caleb moved the oil lamp from the dining table to a small side table near the settee, then used a long-handled snuffer to extinguish the lamp that hung on a chain from the ceiling.
Realizing that she would concentrate more fully if she stayed out of his reach, Analisa sat in the rocker near the settee. She smoothed out the skirt of her gray dress, the one she usually wore when her husband was home.
Caleb went to the buffet and poured himself half a tumbler of brandy. Without asking, he poured Analisa the same amount and crossed the room. After she took the glass from him, he sat at the end of the settee, stretched his long legs out before him, and crossed his booted feet at the ankles. Analisa smiled at the pose that had become so familiar to her.
The pungent aroma of the brandy warned her of the heady taste even before the liquid touched her tongue. Cautiously she took a sip and let the brandy coat her tongue. It scorched a trail down her throat, but she found its searing effect somewhat pleasant.
Sunflower Page 23
