by J. R. WRIGHT
“I forgot you were married again. It’s not right, Luke.”
“Have you forgotten, you’re married?”
With that her teary face came up to look squarely into his eyes. “I want you to know one thing right now Luke McKinney! I never loved Harry Budd. I thought you were dead. I was desperate at the time. I had no place to go. I was alone. I had no one else to turn to.”
“She’s dead, Breanne. I would have written… Her name was White Bird. She was Indian…”
“Your wife…?”
“Yeah!”
“Oh, Luke, I’m so sorry. What happened?”
“She fell from her horse, coming to tell me Bree had herself a boy baby.”
“Bree had a boy!” Breanne put a hand to her mouth and cried more tears of joy. “Oh, God, Luke what will we ever do?”
“You go home, pack a bag, and we’ll be out of here before sundown.”
“Before sundown! Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
“We are going to be together, aren’t we?”
“We will Luke, I promise, but it’s complicated. Right now Harry is waiting for me to take him on his walk. He’s awful sick, Luke, and I want him to get better before telling him. Surely you can understand that?”
Whether he got better or not, no way was Luke prepared to acknowledge that. He wanted her now. After all these years without her, he felt he deserved that. “Will you come back?”
“Meet me here at about one. He goes down for his nap at that time and sleeps hours. We’ll talk some more then, okay?”
And then she was gone, dashing away like that teenager he had known so long ago. Pierre always said Breanne would flower someday and become a real woman. And that she had. Too bad he wasn’t around to see it happen. Luke watched until she could no longer be seen – buildings and trees had gotten in the way – and he then turned away.
Knowing not what else to do, Luke began to walking. Twice he stopped and looked back, hoping what he had experienced wasn’t just a dream. Unhearing and unseeing, then, he traveled on while his mind whirled with unanswered questions. ‘How did Breanne know Sarah? How and where did she meet that Harry Budd? How did she get free of the Indians?’ And it went on and on. Finally music caught his ear and he found his self in front of a tavern. He stepped inside, made his way through the dark interior to the bar, and ordered a whiskey. After two more he went back out into the bright sunlight and continued on.
A block up he paused to peer through the display window of a men’s clothing store. Not seeing anything there that interested him, he moved on. Two doors up, however, he did see something he liked and stepped inside.
“Good morning, señor,” a robust Mexican man said, dressed in a shoemaker’s leather apron.
“What are those?” Luke pointed to the fancy boots in the window.
“Vaqueros, señor! They are boots worn by the cowboys of Mexico,” he picked one up and pointed to the elevated heel. “For the stirrup.”
Seeing how that made sense, Luke asked to try on a pair and found them comfortable, therefore he bought them. But something else caught his eye in the little store. It was a suit made of wool, but tapered like tailored buckskins, with a belt. “Did you make this?”
“Sí señor. It is also vaquero.”
“Do you have it in my size?”
The short man looked him over, then regretfully shook his head no. “I can make to fit, señor.”
“How long will that take?”
The man shrugged. “Maybe two days.”
“Okay, make it,” Luke decided, just that fast. He planned to stay at least that long, now that he’d found Breanne again, and perhaps even longer.
“What color?” The man pointed to three different suits on display.
“This one,” Luke pointed to the saddle brown.
Then, once the measurements were taken, he had a mind change and ordered the other two colors as well, with the promise they would all be done in a week. The other two colors were charcoal and tan.
Back at the hotel, Luke extended his stay by a week. He then went to the room and changed into a new pair of buckskins, bought in Cheyenne prior to coming here, before going to the same eatery where he had breakfast for dinner.
The same young redhead he had seen there that morning was still on duty, except now it appeared she had a lot more help.
“Wild Bill,” she said and laughed as soon as he came through the door. Other customers in the place seemed little amused, and went on with their meals after a glancing look. “I see you found a barber.”
“I did, thanks to you.”
“Say, when are you going back to Cheyenne?” she asked, went to a nearby table, and pulled out a chair for him.
“Why do you ask?” Luke followed her lead and sat.
“‘Cause I’m thinking about going with you. I’m mean, at the same time. I thought maybe you could help point me in the right direction for getting a job, once I’ve arrived.”
“Jobs are not a problem in Cheyenne, but aren’t you kinda young to be traipsing off so far from home?” Luke looked her over more closely now.
“I hope this doesn’t come as a shock to you, mister, but I’ve been around.” She glared.
He didn’t know what to think of that, but figured it meant she may be a bit older than his first guess. “The town is growing in leaps and bounds. Finding honest work won’t be a chore for a capable gal like you. In fact, Willie may even be able to use you at the hotel.”
“What hotel?”
“The Empire. I own it.”
“You own a hotel! You don’t look like a hotel owner.”
“Oh, yeah!” Luke glared. “Then what do I look like?”
“Oh, I want to say Indian fighter, but I’d better play it safe and say rancher.”
“I am a rancher. Plus, I have dealings with Indians.”
“You have a ranch too. Wow, you must be rich. Those ranches out there aren’t small.”
“You seem to know an awful lot about the west for somebody living so far from it.”
“Hell, yeah!” She doubled back and put on a serious face. “Just pick up any paper here. There’s something about the west in them every day.”
“I didn’t know we were so popular.”
“Well, you are. So, does what you said before about a job mean I can go with you?”
“I guess, if you want.” Luke looked around the room, hoping the few people there didn’t get the wrong idea about what just transpired. “I don’t suppose my saying no would stop you anyway.”
“Nope!” She laughed. “I’ll let you know in advance when I plan to leave.”
“So it won’t be like, tomorrow?”
“No.” Then it dawned on him. “Say, I don’t even know your name.”
“Gracie Johnson.”
“Okay, Gracie Johnson, you can call me Tom. Now, what’s for dinner?”
“Whatever you want, Tom. Except for goat. Mama won’t cook goat. It stinks up the place, she says.”
Luke laughed and ordered his usual. “I’ll have a beefsteak, then. And if you would, cut it from the other end of the cow.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Luke was anxiously waiting on the bench in front of the hotel when he saw Breanne coming up the alley. She had on a different dress now. This one was a cheerful yellow. Once reaching her, he commented on it. “I like the dress.” But it wasn’t the dress he had on his mind. It was how wonderful she looked in it.
“Sarah made it for me. I had it packed away all these years. Of course I had to let it out a little in the waist and here.” She waved a hand over her breasts. “That’s what I’ve been doing since I left you. Harry was too weak for his walk today.”
“So when did Sarah do that?” Luke felt it was about time he got some answers.
“There’s a park near where I live. We can talk there.” She took his arm and guided him in that direction. “Please don’t be angry for what Sarah did, Luke. She just did what she had to, under the cir
cumstances. I mean, she knew I was married, and the complications that would cause. She loved you, too, Luke. I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same.”
“Am I correct in saying, Sarah fooled us both? She knew you were alive all along, yet didn’t tell me. And then when she found out I was alive, she kept it to herself.”
“Yes. I guess she did,” Breanne said. But as sad as she was, she still couldn’t bring herself to hate her friend. Actually, she was glad for not having that to agonize over all these years. It was bad enough her living with the suspicion Luke was still alive, without her knowing it for a fact. What could she have done anyway, being married with two children of her own…
“Remember this?” Luke paused, pulled a small buckskin pouch from his pocket, and from it produced a small gold ring.
“Your mother’s… My wedding ring!” Breanne screeched. “Oh, Luke, where on earth did you get it?” Tears welled up in her eyes, and her hands trembled as she reached both out for it.
“I took it from a dead Indian.”
“Oh, God, Luke!” She pulled away. “Did you kill him?” The snarling face of the dominant one of the three renegades that had taken her flashed before her eyes as if it had all happened yesterday.
“He met with an accident.” Luke looked into her horrified eyes. “He made the mistake of trying to steal one of the red horses I took from Silas Jones. She stomped him to death.”
“God forgive me,” she took the ring, cupped it in her hands, and drew them over her heart, “but I’m glad he paid for what he did.”
“He did.” Luke pulled her in. “They all did.”
And so it went for nearly four hours, most of it sitting on a park bench under the canopy of a weeping willow tree. At first the conversation was about blame, and then about guilt, and finally about happy times, pleasingly laced between all the bad things that had happened. There was plenty of crying, hugging, and kissing throughout. But at least when it was over, they both felt better about everything. Even about their prospects of being together again, in the not so distant future, if everything worked out as expected.
“Will you be at the post office in the morning?”
“No need,” Breanne said, “you’re here.” She laughed. “But, you’re not getting off that easy, Luke McKinney. Meet me in front of your hotel tonight at nine. Harry will be in bed by then, and the town will be sleeping.”
This was so unexpected that Luke didn’t know what to say. He smiled broadly instead. “I’ll be waiting,” he finally got out.
They embraced, then parted to go their separate ways. Each looked back to one another as they walked away, until that was no longer possible. Then they each hurried along as if that would make nine o’clock somehow come sooner.
Breanne was a little late, the reason for her steps being quick as she walked through the dark alley toward the well-lighted hotel. Luke never saw her until she reached the street, paused, then hurriedly crossed it. He took her in as soon as she arrived for a comforting hug.
“Harry was restless,” Breanne said. “I think he knows, Luke.”
Luke didn’t know what to say to that, other than he’d like to go over there a put an end to him once and for all. “Does that mean you want to go back to him?” He looked into her eyes.
“No. He’s asleep now, finally.” She took Luke’s arm and they walked. “I just don’t want him hurt. I don’t know what I would have done without him all those years. I mean, he has provided, and he is a great father to the girls. I feel I owe him for that.”
Again Luke was lost for words. He could understand why she would be struggling with this sudden intervention into a life she had become comfortable with for thirty-five years.
“Well, enough of that!” She smiled up to him. “This night is supposed to be about us. I want it to be special, Luke.”
A lamplighter coming up the street was bringing an orange glow along with him as he approached. Swiftly, Luke turned Breanne into an alley, and eventually they ended up at the rear of the hotel. There he guided her up the steel steps of the fire escape to a locked door. Producing a key, Luke unlocked it and they entered. His room was the first one on the left, and they quietly entered.
Breanne didn’t ask about the mysterious key that had opened the fire escape door. Even though she had noticed, it would have been difficult with all the excited anticipation that welled up in her now, like a lump in the throat or a stressed balloon deliriously yearning to be pricked.
“Wine?” Luke gestured to the bottle he had purchased that afternoon. It sat next to the single lamp that illuminated a small portion of the otherwise dark room.
However, Breanne had another idea of how this evening should progress. She was tired of talking about the past. It was time now to put a new beginning in place, one for the two of them to build on from here. And what better way to do it than right where they’d left off, all those years ago. She started by pulling Luke down for a lingering kiss. Then, once he had taken control of the situation by pulling her in tightly, she freed one hand, and with practiced agility unbuttoned her dress to the waist.
At first Luke was taken aback. What appeared to be about to happen was everything he had hoped for eventually, but really hadn’t expected to occur quite this soon. All the ploys he had dreamed up this afternoon to get to this point now seemed unnecessary. Then, when her hand went to the laces on his buckskins, it was all he could do to keep from pulling away and taking over the task himself. What filled his trousers at a rapid rate was almost embarrassing, and his hands slid down over her firm buttocks and drew her in painfully tight.
Suddenly, however, the moment was shattered when Breanne burst into laughter. “I’m sorry, Luke.” She backed away, a hand muffling the volume of the surprising outburst. “I’m just too happy inside for all this stoking of the fire.” With that, she gathered her dress and peeled it over her head, leaving her naked before him.
“Oh, so that’s how you want to play it!” Luke brought the buckskin shirt over his head and scrambled to remove the trousers.
Hurriedly Breanne pulled combs from her hair and soon golden locks fell to her shoulders. Only the lace up, calf high boots remained, but it was too late to mess with them now. Luke was already naked and coming for her. With a giggle, she ran to behind the tub, then screeched as he came around for her.
In the flickering lamp light, Luke took in the voluptuous vixen Breanne had matured to become. And he very much liked what he saw. At this point his desire could not have been greater, but if it was a game she wanted to play, he was up for it. The thought of sex on the run had always delighted him.
Breanne, on the other hand, had dreamed often of this moment over the years: her again mating with the Luke of old, who’d always made it so exciting, sometimes with a chase through the woods, or a surprise pounce in the dead of night, that always brought forth the beast in her.
Of course all of that was in contrast to anything Harry had ever done. He faithfully practiced the missionary method, and handled that as if it were a chore, performed for propagation purposes only. And there hadn’t even been any of that the past decade or more.
Breanne playfully made it to the far side of the high iron bed. And when he came over it after her, as she knew he would, she ducked under it and came up on the other side. This cat and mouse game went on for several more minutes, until Breanne was ready to be caught, and took a final leap landing face up with a bounce on the bed. Then, just as Luke put a knee to the bed and reached to part her legs, she playfully rolled over. No way was she about to let him take her in the normal fashion. She feared any similarity to something Harry may have done would spoil it for her.
Taking the hint, Luke grabbed ahold of the boots and dragged her to the edge of the bed. There, with a lift of her midsection and a mighty thrust, he entered her from behind.
The swiftness of it caused Breanne to shout out, gleefully. Now it all seemed so suddenly familiar to her – so right, so deep within, as if they had never bee
n apart. Parts of her that she’d nearly forgotten ever existed sparked to life again; her toes painfully tried to curl in the tight boots, hair tingled as if an army of ants marched through it, her breasts swelled, nipples hardened, and most of all, her lips yearned for touch.
The forceful thrusts caused her to shout out again, this time along with the first stampede of pleasure. With that, she felt the toes of the boots reach the floor, her legs stiffened, and his thrusts became even more pounding. Soon thereafter a sensation came that left her weak and unknowing of her surroundings. Everything slowed and what followed was a thunderous surging so exhilarating, Breanne never wanted it to end.
Suddenly on her back, she felt Luke enter her again, his tender lips on hers now, full and ripe. It was then her entire body convulsed for the final time, putting an end to life as she had known it, for the past agonizing thirty-five years without him. In her eyes what she’d just experienced was a justifiable redemption to past suffering and sorrow.
There would be no guilt associated with this, she vowed. And why should there be? She was married to Luke. She had a record of that in the tattered, old Mormon Bible she still read from occasionally for the sake of memories.
“Luke…” she whispered, afraid to open her eyes for fear it was another of her dreams. “If you’re here pinch me… hard!” And when he surprisingly locked his lips on her earlobe instead, prompting a giggle, her eyes flew open and she drew him down for a lasting kiss.
For hours after, they lay silently while holding each other close, content with their individual thoughts. Finally Breanne, not being able to shake the depressing thought that at some point she had to go back home, arose and got dressed.
“When will you come again?” Luke asked from the bed.
“Will tomorrow night be alright?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“It isn’t what I want, but it will have to do for now.” She came to him with a lingering kiss, and then she was gone.
Luke hurriedly dressed, left the room, traveled the long hallway, and descended the stairs. Crossing the vacant lobby, he saw through the front windows that Breanne had made her way from the back of the hotel and was now entering the dark alley across the street. He left the hotel and stayed a safe distance behind her, keeping to the shadows, away from the street lights as much as possible. Finally in the block past the park, the park where they had been earlier in the day, she turned in toward a small white house, went up steps, and entered through the front door.
