Prairie Song

by Cheryl Anne Porter

  Hope surged through Cole. He now addressed his niece. “Lydia? Remember what you did to Willy when he pulled Kitty’s tail and made him yelp? Do you, baby?” The little girl’s pouty mouth and wide-eyed expression stiffened into remembered belligerence toward her brother. “You do remember, don’t you, honey?”

  “What are you trying to pull, Youngblood?”

  Cole ignored Talmidge and kept talking to Lydia. “You remember, don’t you, baby?”

  “Yes,” she said, her sweet little baby voice a precious sound to Cole. “Willy hurt Kitty.”

  “That’s right, baby, but he didn’t mean to. But that mean man who’s holding on to you did the same thing to Kitty. Only he meant to hurt him.”

  Lydia’s eyes rounded like saucers. Her mouth turned down with determination—and she grabbed Talmidge’s arm and bit the hell out of the unsuspecting man. Instantly, he howled and his gun fell from his nerveless fingers. In the next instant, Lydia shrieked and also fell from his grasp, only to hit the ground hard on her chubby belly.

  “Stay down, Lydia,” Cole yelled as he dove for the ground and his gun. Lying flat on his belly, pretty much as Lydia was, Cole fished his weapon up with his left hand—Son of a bitch. He jerked toward Talmidge, who had his gun in his hand again and was reaching for Lydia. Cole had no choice but to play the hand dealt him. He fired the pistol left-handed.

  With Cole’s aim off, the bullet took Talmidge in the left shoulder, forcing a cry from him as he spun with the impact. “Stay down, Lydia,” Cole yelled again, even though the little girl hadn’t moved since she’d hit the ground. Cole saw Talmidge right himself … and point his gun at the helpless little girl.

  “No!” Cole yelled, firing his weapon over and over and over … until Talmidge lay bleeding and dead in the street.

  Instantly, Cole was on his feet, reholstering his gun as he ran for Lydia, who still lay facedown in the dust. Reaching her, Cole stopped so suddenly that he raised a small dust cloud. He dropped to his knees and gently turned Lydia into his arms. As he brushed her hair back from her dirty little face, Cole heard his own prayer: “Dear sweet God, no. Not this child.”

  Lydia’s eyes opened and she gasped when she saw it was Cole. Then, crying, she held her arms out to him, wanting him to hold her. Cole immediately hugged her to his chest … and cried and thanked God and rocked with her right there in plain view of all the citizens now opening their doors and slowly refilling the main street of Guthrie.

  * * *

  Two and a half months later, July Fourth dawned bright and sunny in the Oklahoma Territory. The daylight itself seemed to smile, to anticipate the promise of the coming holiday celebration. Birds chirped, the stream’s waters gurgled, and a cow mooed, making known its wish to be milked. But inside, in the Youngblood home situated on one of the choicest claims in the area, Kate still lay in bed. She stretched, yawning, feeling warm and safe and secure. Yes, she needed to get up and get breakfast and hurry the kids along for the coming trip into Guthrie and all the festivities. She knew that … and so did Cole, that devil. A grin captured her features.

  With his arms wrapped around her, with her snuggled up against him in their wide, comfortable bed, with her cheek against his bare chest, and with him stroking her hair, Kate knew that breakfast and kids and celebrations would just have to wait. Grinning, she wriggled upward in Cole’s arms, kissing her way up his chest, his neck, his jaw, until she was within range of his lips. At the last moment, before she could capture his mouth, Cole pulled back and stared down at her, grinning also, his hand lovingly stroking her cheek. “Last night wasn’t enough, Mrs. Youngblood?”

  Suddenly shy yet feeling playful, Kate gave a dramatic shrug. “It was enough then.” She met his gaze, hoping the burning she felt inside for him shone forth. “But not now, Mr. Youngblood.”

  Her seductive grin, her arms going around his neck, arching her body against his, wrought an immediate response from her husband. His sharp exhalation and the stiffening of his naked body told Kate everything she needed to know. He pulled her more closely into his embrace. And Kate knew she’d never tire of the feel of this man’s hands on her body. Every day he healed her spirit more. Every day the nightmares in her heart and in her mind receded a bit more. Every day they were replaced by Cole’s love, by his touch, by his steadfast faithfulness.

  And in the time since her body had mended, in the time since they’d worked side by side to build their home and a life together with the children, Cole had proceeded slowly in showing her how to love. He’d allowed her to set the pace and to mark the moment for their first coupling. Since that first tender time, he’d shown her that love such as his for her arose from respecting her during the daylight hours. And at night, he’d taught her that gentleness and tenderness weren’t only found in a man’s touch, but also in his heart. Most importantly, he’d shown her what it was to be with a man whose touch she wanted and whose love she needed.

  Like now. Desire for her husband fired Kate’s senses as she responded with abandon to Cole’s deft caresses, to his kiss that hungrily ravaged her mouth, to his searching hands that seemed to be everywhere at once on her body. Kate writhed with the now familiar heat that instantly and feverishly consumed her senses with his first touch. She murmured words of love to him, which only spurred him on. In an instant, Kate’s nightgown was over her head and tossed aside, leaving her naked body pressed up against his.

  A sharp inhalation was wrung from her at the feel of his muscled chest against her bare breasts. She clung more tightly to him, caressing his shoulders and arms as Cole dipped his head down to her breast to capture an already taut nipple. The heat of his mouth, the swirl of his tongue, as he moved from one nipple to the other, forced a soft cry of desire from Kate’s parted lips. And then he dipped lower on her body, kissing his way down her belly, past her navel, until he found her secret place and swirled the same kisses there.

  Just as she thought she’d pass out from the pleasure, Cole pulled away, now trailing his kisses back up her body. “My God, Kate, you’re beautiful.” His voice was breathless and tight with passion. “I could never, in five lifetimes, get enough of you. Never. I think I’ve known from the first moment I saw you that I’d love you.”

  Kate’s answering smile came from her heart, a heart filled finally with love and happiness, two treasures she’d never thought she’d own. She stroked his face, gazed into his eyes. “I love you, Cole,” came her whispered words. “I love you so very much.”

  As if he’d been waiting only for those words from her, he pulled himself up and over her. Holding fast to his arms as he held himself above her, Kate welcomed his weight atop her, welcomed the feel of his hips pressed against hers, welcomed his sliding into her, his coupling with her. She bent her knees and raised her hips, meeting his every loving thrust with one of her own. Finally Cole lowered himself more fully onto her, holding her close, embracing her, dragging kisses over her ear, her temple, her cheek. Kate wrapped her legs around Cole’s middle and her arms around his neck, urging him onward, feeding her own desire as much as she knew she did his with every kiss, every caress, every whispered word of love.

  Inevitably, the tightness inside her coiled. The heat firing her blood combusted, warming her cheeks and raging throughout her body, seeming to settle in a tingling warmth in her thighs. She gasped and clung to Cole, all but burying her face in his shoulder, suddenly unable to help him or herself to increase their mutual pleasure. A gasp escaped her.

  “Oh, Cole, I need you so.” Her whispered words were hot. Her biting kiss on his neck wrung a cry from him. “Now, Cole, now,” she urged, holding fast to his muscled and sweating back.

  Cole responded. His thrusts increased, became a pounding and steady pace that coiled the tightness inside Kate to such a turn that, even inside herself, she could feel Cole’s desire thicken and harden even more. The moment was near. Kate could barely breathe. Cole’s weight pressed her into the bed … and she wanted more of him, wanted to feel him f
rom her head to her toes, wanted to drown in this expression of his love and desire for her.

  And then … Kate stiffened. It burst, sending her over the edge of sanity, beyond reality, beyond the moment and the time and the bed. Her head thrown back, her toes curling, a wanton cry bubbling up from her throat, Kate’s body danced across the rippling undulations, the hot sweet intensity that threatened to have her out of her mind. From Cole, who now held himself rigid over her, as his body pumped its seed into hers, she heard his own hoarse cry of fulfilled desire … and felt whole again. Felt alive. Loved. Cherished. Wanted. As if she’d just come home. Where she’d never been before.

  Epilogue

  Later that July Fourth morning, now dressed and ready to go, Kate put her hands to her waist and stopped, standing in the upstairs hallway and looking right and left into the children’s opened bedroom doorways. She swore the new house was already too small. Eight rooms and two stories … too small? Maybe, she decided, it simply seemed as if it were in all the high-spirited and hectic confusion of this hot and sunny day.

  Well, standing here isn’t getting anything done. Instantly going into action, and moving from one bedroom doorway to the next, Kate clapped her hands together and set about individually encouraging the freshly bathed Joey, Willy, and Lydia to rush around a bit. “Come on, now. Hurry it up. You don’t want to miss the big get-together in town, do you?”

  “No, ma’am,” Willy called out, garnering Kate’s attention. She stepped over to his doorway to see the little boy’s black eyes dancing with happy anticipation of the holiday. “I just got to get my shoes. And then I’m done.”

  Kate smiled as the five-year-old stuffed his treasures—a piece of rawhide, a bent coin, and two rocks he fancied—into his new britches pockets. “Good for you, Willy. You’ll be the first one ready.” Kate moved away from his door—

  “Kate?” he called right back.

  Kate stepped back into view, trying not to see the appalling heaps of clothes and bedding all tossed about. “Yes, baby?”

  “I can’t find my new shoes.”

  Chuckling, Kate sagged against the door frame and crossed her arms. “I don’t doubt that, Willy. Have you looked under your bed?”

  Realization dawned on his lightly freckled face and he dove, head-first, under its metal frame. “Here they are,” came his muffled call.

  “Good,” Kate called over her shoulder since she’d already moved on to Joey’s doorway. She peeked in—stopping short and trying to cover her gasp.

  Inside his neatly kept room and standing at his dry sink, with water in the basin and his skinny little back to her, shirtless, shoeless, and his pants’ suspenders dangling to either side of his legs, the boy’s mirror-reflected gaze locked with hers. “Joey,” Kate gurgled. “You’re … shaving.”

  Eight years old now, as of two weeks ago, and in love with ten-year-old Meredith Jacobs, whom Kate knew would be in Guthrie with her family for the festivities, Joey’s rounded eyes begged her to take him seriously. He slowly swirled his uncle’s shaving brush around in its soap mug. “Well, not yet. I’m just getting ready to start.”

  Kate tried desperately to think how to handle this, before the boy began carving the flesh off his face. “Joey, I think shaving is a fine idea, but in about five more years. I’ve always heard that a man needs to wait until he has a beard coming in. That way, he doesn’t cut himself so bad.”

  Surprisingly, Joey looked relieved at her intervention, much as if he’d gotten himself into a situation he now regretted. “Yes, ma’am,” he-agreed readily, putting the razor down and mopping at the suds on his face. I suppose I can wait a bit to try it.”

  Relieved, Kate swallowed and nodded. “A smart decision. Now, you get yourself dressed. I’ll just go check on Lydia. Your uncle says you’re to come straight down when you’re ready and help him.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Joey said obediently, tugging on his suspenders.

  With that, Kate turned away, heading for Lydia’s room, across the hall from Joey’s. Suddenly there was a great fuss in that direction. Kate got to the little firebrand’s bedroom door and saw only the top of the child’s head and her bare chubby legs. In between was the daffodil-yellow dress she struggled to get over her head. Chuckling, Kate stepped inside and assured her, “I’m here, baby. Shhh, now. Let’s see what we can do. Hold still.”

  Lydia did and Kate set about trying to sort out arms from armholes and finally managed to pull the dress down into place. With her riot of dark curls now a fuzzy halo about her face, Lydia gave Kate her best pout. “I want Kitty to go with us,” she said—for about the twelfth time this morning. “If Kitty can’t go, I don’t want to go.” She crossed her arms defiantly and poked out her bottom lip.

  Kate instantly mocked the little girl’s expression and her stance. “Then that settles it. You get to stay here all day and chew on an old bone and drink water out of the creek with Kitty—while I go into town with the boys and eat all the pies and see the parade and dance with your Uncle Cole—”

  “No!” Lydia cried out, putting a tiny hand over Kate’s lips. The little girl’s black eyes widened. “Me, too. Me, too. Kitty won’t mind, huh? He’ll stay here and be brave and make sure the bad man doesn’t come back, won’t he?”

  Edgar Talmidge’s hateful face suddenly swam into Kate’s mind. She sobered and immediately swooped the little girl up into her embrace, holding her as close as she could and rocking with her. “The bad man won’t ever come back, baby. Ever. He’s gone for good. Your Uncle Cole made sure of that, remember?”

  With her little face snuggled against Kate’s neck, she nodded. “Uh-huh. I do. But … he still scares me.”

  “I know, baby, I know,” Kate soothed, aching for the child who still had occasional nightmares and stole across the hall in the night to sleep with Willy or Joey. Or cried until Kate or Cole came upstairs from their bedroom downstairs to get her. Kate tugged Lydia back and smoothed the child’s hair away from her face. “But it’s all over now, and Uncle Cole is here to protect us all. No one is going to hurt you ever again.”

  “Yeah,” Lydia instantly agreed, smiling now, very proud. “And Uncle Cole’s the sheriff. So the bad men have to do what he says, don’t they, Mama?”

  “You bet they do, sweetheart.” Kate tenderly flicked the tip of Lydia’s button nose and smiled, her heart overflowing every time Lydia called her Mama. She still insisted on calling Cole her uncle … but Kate was Mama. Kate stood up now and turned the child’s back to her. “Let me button you up and then we’ll get those pretty ribbons off your dresser to put in your hair. How does that sound?”

  “Fi-ine.” Lydia drew the word out. Then, “Can Kitty have a bow, too?”

  Not the least bit surprised, Kate just laughed. “Why, of course.” Done now with the dress’s buttons, Kate helped Lydia into her stockings and button-up shoes. After that, she brushed and plaited the little girl’s long hair, running the promised ribbons through each braid. When finally Lydia stood ready, Kate handed her another length of satin ribbon and said, “Here. Go tie this around Kitty’s neck—not too tight, now.”

  Lydia’s eyes lit up as she took the long red ribbon from Kate. “I won’t. Kitty likes when I give him bows. Big ones.”

  “I know,” Kate cooed, even though she knew that Lydia would only hopelessly knot the satiny length and it would have to be cut off the dog. “He’ll be so pleased you thought of him.”

  Lydia smiled smugly and nodded—obviously very pleased with her own generosity—and then, with Kate following along behind her, skipped toward the doorway, calling out to her brothers. “Willy, Joey, come go with me. I gots a ribbon for Kitty.”

  From Joey’s room came a muffled, “Ah, hell. Not again. That poor dog.”

  But from Willy’s room came running feet. “Wait for me, Lydia. I’ll help you knot him up again.”

  The children met up at the stairs, going down together, Lydia one step at a time and holding on to the bannister, Willy assisting
her. And Kate followed behind them, close enough to hear their do-not-do-too litany on bow- and knot-tying all the way down. Once they reached the last riser and hit the hallway on the first floor, they raced off through the house, down the hall and out the back door, Willy ahead and Lydia squealing about it. Downstairs herself now, Kate closed her eyes and smiled … and stood in the hallway, her hand on the bannister as she reveled in their childish joy and abandon. Pure music to her ears.

  Suddenly she was hugged from behind, a hard masculine body pressing warmly against her back. She hadn’t even heard Cole’s footfalls. He must’ve stepped out of the carpeted parlor and onto the runner in the hallway. Warmed by his kiss on her neck and by his murmured words of love, Kate instantly relaxed, caressing the square-palmed hands clasped together at her waist. Smiling a secret smile, she reached a hand up behind her and cupped Cole’s cheek as he covered her upswept hair with kisses. This man’s touch simply melted her … and he knew it. “I love you so much, Cole. You make me so happy.”

  “Good,” he said, nibbling at her neck. “I want to. For the rest of our lives.” After another moment of nuzzling, he rested his cheek on her hair and said, “Have you decided what you want to do about Justis Talmidge’s letter? You’ve had it a week now. The man deserves an answer.”

  Kate sighed and nodded. “I know. And yes I have decided.” She turned in Cole’s embrace so she could face him and flattened her palms against his chest. “Please don’t be angry, but I think we ought to take his offer, Cole. It’s a lot of money, I know—more than we could ever spend. But I think we can do a world of good with it. Especially for the children.”

  Cole’s expression hardened. “Sounds like you have made up your mind, then.”

  Kate hated this. They’d disagreed from the outset, ever since the letter from New York had arrived at the post office in town. “Please don’t be angry, Cole. Justis Talmidge offered it in the right spirit. I never knew him to be anything but a good and decent man. I know he had no idea what was”—Kate looked down at a button on Cole’s shirt—“going on in his brother’s house until Hudson, the valet, told him.”