by Webb, Carole
A soft cover of snow powder sparkled on rooftops, trees and landscaped yards, a far cry from the dunes in South Dakota whipped by fierce winds. The welcome sight of the clean-lined house of her childhood with its neatly pruned gardens and modern amenities brought back memories. When she stepped into the foyer, the aroma of food cooking made her hungry.
Memories of running outdoors in the sun with her siblings, long rides with Arte in the lush green fields and her mother’s elegant meals made her feel younger than the twenty-two years she would turn this Christmas, a double celebration. She recalled swimming in the nearby pond and climbing trees to hide from her siblings and seek some peace and quiet, reading fashion magazines and eating fruit straight from the tree.
She bolted into the house in search of her mother and held her close. The sweet fragrance of her mother’s signature perfume gently scented the air. Sophia held Raeden at arms length and gazed over her daughter. Lips turned downward and her eyes slanted in disapproval, “Rae, you have gotten too thin and what happened to your face? I suppose you indulged in some form of man’s work out in that cowboy country.” She ran a fingertip softly over the narrow pink line.
Not again. “No, Mother, I just took a spill riding. There won’t be a scar.”
Her mother shook her head. “You have always been such a wild child.”
Raeden stepped back. “I’m hardly a child, Mother.” How she hated these sessions of chastisement. As far back as she could remember it had always been this way. No part of the real person inside seemed to please her mother and no matter how hard she tried, she could not change.
“I’m going upstairs to freshen up and dress.” She bolted up the stairs to her old bedroom.
Cynthia joined in to help unpack her clothing, two sisters laughing and chatting as if no time had passed. A new sunny glow and excitement flowed from her sister. Raeden guessed the transformation came from being in love.
“Tell me all about you and Christopher. I will bet you’re the envy of all the young ladies in town.”
Cynthia beamed. “I’m so happy, Rae. Chris is so romantic, he dotes on me constantly and we have so much in common.”
Inwardly she smiled, remembering Cynthia as a child, always precious and sweet and fair like Aunt Diane, the youngest of four, protected by her siblings and spoiled with attention from the entire family.
“After you left, he visited often, asking about you at first. Then he began requesting to be my escort to social gatherings and our friendship grew, eventually into love.” Cynthia’s face turned scarlet. “I know this sounds wanton but I can hardly wait to be married. When we kisses or he touches me, I tingle all over and his arousal excites me.”
Raeden sat on the bed and patted the space beside her so Cynthia would join her. “Am I awful for feeling this way?”
“There’s nothing wrong, Cyn. You will have a love-filled marriage. I’m sure you will both be very happy.” Cynthia leaned into her shoulder. “I left the wedding gown in case you might like it, but I will design another and sell this one when I get to New York.”
Cynthia sprang from the bed. “No, Rae, you wouldn’t dare! It’s the most beautiful wedding dress I’ve ever seen. Show it to me again.”
She unpacked the dress, flattered by her sister’s enthusiasm. Cynthia quaked with excitement while she held it up admiring her own work. Her sister snatched the garment and ran behind the dress screen, twirled out a few moments later and stood before the full-length mirror, sparkling blue eyes beaming at the reflection. Raeden thought she had never seen Cynthia so excited and happy.
Raeden removed the accessories. “With a few minor adjustments, it will be perfect.”
Cynthia turned slowly to see every angle. “You are the best sister ever.”
Raeden realized she must have had Cynthia in mind when she constructed the dress. She looked like a seraph standing in the white gown. “I will send some sketches you might like for your bride’s maids.” She already had something in mind.
“You must be thrilled to finally realize your dream. I’ll come to visit; we can go to the theatre together.”
Raeden looked forward to the New York theatres. She had read about the glittery performances and intended to attend them all.
“Chris is coming to dinner. I hope you don’t mind.”
She did not look forward to the meeting. “It’s no problem. After all, he’s in love with you.”
Not a hint of jealousy showed in her voice or manner. “He must face you sometime. It may as well be tonight.”
“I promise.” Rae said, “I will make him as comfortable as possible.”
***
Turning before the mirror, Raeden admired her new variation of the leg of mutton sleeves, the rage in Europe, on the emerald green velvet gown matching the color of her eyes. Gold-colored satin was pleated in the folds of velvet gathered over a bustle highlighting the train draping to the floor. The waist, still a bit loose, showed the need for a few extra pounds, though her breasts swelled provocatively above low neckline trimmed with eyelet and woven with gold ribbon.
She stepped into gold slippers, enhanced by the trim then entwined a muted gold ribbon through the crown of thick lustrous locks cascading down to her waist. After adding a touch of rouge to her cheeks and lips, still slightly ashen from her bout with ill health, she glided down the stairs into the reception room, decorated for Christmas.
Raeden nursed a glass of wine sitting next to Margaret. The baby, looking sated and happy wriggling in his swaddle smelled of powder when Margaret placed him in her arms.
Cynthia greeted Christopher at the front door. They entered together hand in hand. His cheeks reddened when his eyes met Raeden.
Feeling a bit awkward, Raeden handed the infant to his mother, approached her ex-fiancé, and extended a hand. “Hello, Christopher, so nice to see you again.”
He reached for her hand, holding it only for a moment. “You must tell me all about your excursion to South Dakota. I hear it is pretty rugged but I doubt it would be a hindrance to you.”
She smiled at his joking manner, actually proud he considered her capable. “I’m delighted to hear about you and Cyn. She’s a great companion and it doesn’t hurt she’s gorgeous as well.”
“Thanks, Rae, I feel the same.” His eyes moved to Cynthia, adoring. He had never looked at her in such a way—a perfect match.
“Dinner’s ready, everyone,” Sophia announced, motioning them to the dining room where steaming platters laden with glazed roast pork, creamed potatoes and dilled carrots filled the air with their delicious aromas. The table setting glimmered in the chandelier light and the deep crimson holly centerpiece added the perfect holiday flare.
For dessert, they lingered over warm apple pie topped with cheddar cheese slices and rich hot coffee served from a silver urn on the mahogany buffet.
Raeden passed on the brandy. The atmosphere, noisy from raucous laughter felt warm and close, the perfect homecoming. She was free at last from the cold bleak wilderness, so cruel and unforgiving.
Unexpected visions of Cash ran through her mind as she watched Tom and Margaret dote on their infant. John knew where he went. She had become sure, when he hesitated. How could he be with another woman after his expressed desire for her? She surmised it had to be one of two reasons or perhaps both. He had to show her he wanted no restrictions or the fact the two fiends had compromised her and she was contaminated forever in his eyes.
The latter seemed the more plausible since she had told him marriage meant nothing to her. He could have had his freedom, and she wanted hers as well. His sense of rectitude was the only reason for his sacrifice, which in this case did not impress her in the least.
Nonetheless, what could she do about the nagging desire quelling in her core making her want to feel his hands and burning kisses all over her body driving her into the magical place he had shown her existed within?
It only stood to reason, time should take care of the matter. She would just hav
e to wait.
Forty-threes
The once septic wound healed remarkably fast but still a ways to go before completely mended. Against doctor’s orders, Cash walked daily, ignoring the excruciating pain. Determined to be on his way and having no word from John in relation to Raeden, his mind conjured up vivid portraits of her frail beaten frame, along with the possibility of a relapse on her part. He could not rest easy until he saw her again.
With only a vague limp, he ambled to the Western Union office, small beads misting his forehead, to send her a telegram relating to his arrival. It read.
Rae, been under doctor’s care gunshot in leg be home when weather permits, Cash
No sentiments had been included to avoid the possible caustic barbs of her shrew-like temper, which had made him gun-shy. He lived with the hope she would welcome him home and imagined the green-eyed temptress that had relinquished unconditionally in the throws of passion. He could not believe the same woman could avidly despise him. In spite of her biting animosity, could she not see he would gladly lay down his life in her defense?
No storms evolved. The clear weather and the snow pack solid from frigid night temperatures made it possible to travel on horseback in deep snow. He purchased supplies to see him through to Chamberlain, paid the doctor his service fees and shunning his advice, made a hasty departure. Seeing Raeden once again would make up for any hardship he had to endure.
The sun’s rays glistened across prisms of ice blanketing the glacial prairie, near blinding in its reflection. He made camp under the same stand of White Spruce he had used many times before. While preparing his shelter of tree branches, he spotted fresh blood oozing through his pant leg. Without hesitation, he searched and found moss clinging to tree bark then wrapping the lichen preferred by Indians for its healing effects, securely over the exposed wound.
After eating cold food, he dropped a tarpaulin then his bedroll. The rugged filly pawed through ice, foraging with meager results.
Unaccustomed to long hours of sleep, he broke camp several hours before dawn and fed Rabbit a portion of grain. By sunrise, masses of black storm clouds blocked out the sun. Relieved from the glare, they drove hard into the evening in an attempt to outrun the oncoming squall, the crackle of hard pack crunching under Rabbit’s unshod hooves.
After feeding his horse double portions, he dozed for a few hours, waking under a layer of white powder. Urged by the onset, they forged ahead stopping only to rest and feed his mount.
He battled thoughts of Raeden, the constant warfare he had engaged in the last fifty miles. The closer he came to the end of his travels, his male urges became more difficult to control. Would she surrender herself even in anger like the first time he took her? He did have the right as her husband to demand she lay with him but he preferred to hope she would desire him as much as he craved her and come to his bed willingly.
Finally, the dim lights of Chamberlain emerged, paving the way to the stable to bed down the filly after the punishing trek.
Whipped and cold, he limped into the office anticipating a mug of scalding hot coffee. John and Chad rose from a game of cards.
John’s mouth dropped open. “Sure didn’t expect to see you so soon. Are you crazy? Your leg’s been bleeding. You can hardly stand and you look like hell!”
“I’ve been through worse, thought I had been away long enough.” He would have left sooner if he believed he could make it. “Since you never informed me as asked, I needed to check on my wife.”
A long hesitation told him something must be wrong. John drew in a deep breath, a scowl on his face. “Of course you would have no way of knowing since you chose to be pig-headed and stubborn. She went home to St. Louis, not that I blame her. You could have at least made contact.” John’s neck bulged and his lips thinned, anger in his tone. “Did you just expect her to sit here waiting for someone she thought might not show up? Personally, I think you should be horsewhipped.”
Anger rose in defense while he stared at the disappointment he could read in John’s eyes. He knew the blame rested on him, however, he chose to ignore the hurt and bury his feelings, the only way to endure the loss. She should not be traveling in her condition. Is she nuts? He knew she longed to go to St. Louis. Had she not begged him to take her there? Unaccustomed malaise knotted his stomach, “When did she leave?”
Just before Thanksgiving. Diane mentioned you finally sent a wire but she had already left. Diane felt it best under the circumstances not to forward the message.” What circumstances? He would never ask, feeling fool enough already.
He pulled his back straight ready to walk out. He didn’t have to take this and from a friend no less.
John’s voice reeked with sarcasm. “Cash, just a minute I have a letter from Rae. She wouldn’t leave without asking about your welfare and writing a note.” He snatched up the letter. The aroma of roses wafted from the scented paper when he stuffed it in his vest pocket. He replaced the rifle in the cabinet, gritted his teeth and walked to the saloon, a jolt of desolation creeping into his gut.
He downed a bowl of beans and two beers before Angie appeared. Her eyes took in his shabby appearance. Cash grew hard looking at her shapely body. “Are you busy? I need a woman”
“Not like that, you don’t. Come upstairs, I’ll give you a shave and a bath.” Her hips swayed seductively as she walked to the stairs in high-heeled slippers. The curves of her body unhidden by the tight fitting red dress, and shapely legs moved up the stairs before him. He could see part way to her thighs. He closed the door behind them and began stripping his dirty trail-worn clothes.
“If you want to wear your dress again, you had better take if off, now.” The dress dropped to the floor just as Cash grabbed her, pushed her onto the bed. Suddenly, visions of Raeden drifted through his mind. What the hell was he doing here? “I think you’re right, Angie. I do need a bath. I’ll catch up with you later.”
***
Bathed and clean-shaven he fell into bed. The stiffness in his leg from hours on horseback somewhat eased by the hot water. The injury showed immense improvement by the moss poultice. The wound had nearly healed.
Cash held the letter carrying Raeden’s scent then crumpled and tossed it in the corner of the room. He had no desire to read the same hateful insults he had heard before. Without thinking, he rose to grasp the paper, smoothed out the folds, tore open the envelope and began reading.
My Dearest Cash,
I do hope this finds you well and happy. You will no longer be burdened with the responsibility of a wife you do not want. I can take care of myself. I choose to remember the good times and forget the petty quarrels. Let’s just get on with our own separate lives. Sincerely with love, R
Cash ripped the letter to shreds. He would rather read barbs than all this nonsense. Did she intend to make him feel guilty with her condescension and sweet salutations? She belonged to him now whether she liked it or not. She could cool her heels for a while. He had plans of his own to take care of but eventually, she would bend to his will.
Why could she make him so angry? He wanted her because he loved her and desired to protect her. He could never play the milksop and allow his true feelings to show when she would only toss him aside for the one thing she truly desired—her silly obsession to go to New York and become famous.
A restless sleep overtook him just before dawn. He awoke with the rising sun glaring off the snow, illuminating his room.
He hurriedly dressed then walked to the telegraphy to send two wires. The first to resign officially from his post as Federal Marshall, the second to Senator Wilcox.
While awaiting the final confirmation of his appointment as senator, he would visit the ranch to take inventory of the supplies and implements necessary to bring the ranch back to the thriving cattle empire it once had been. He would leave redecorating the house to Raeden, except for new sleeping accommodations, eliminating any hesitation she might have about sleeping in a bed he had shared with another woman.
/> On his way to Washington, he would stop in St. Louis to pick up his wife then purchase livestock in Kansas City to replenish his herd. He thought it the perfect plan.
When they reached the Capitol, he would secure suitable accommodations and begin their new life as husband and wife. Separate lives indeed. Did she think him a milquetoast? He would demonstrate to her he took the marriage seriously, even if she did not.
Before leaving for the ranch, he went to check with Diane and find out how Raeden had been doing since his departure. He kicked the mud from his boots before passing through the front door and Diane confronted him immediately upon entrance.
“Well, Cash, don’t tell me you decided to come home!” Her derisive tone set his jaw in defiance. “You mentioned a gunshot wound, you seem fine now.” She prattled nervously. “If you had made contact sooner, she would not have left so abruptly, I’m sure.” She marched toward him and stared into his face, standing erect with her hands clenched at her sides. “Married people don’t behave in such a way, Cash.” Her face flushed with anger.
Perplexed by her hostility, he stood his ground, thumbs casually tucked into his gun belt with legs slightly apart and a smirk on his lips. He would not stand there and justify his behavior. Even though they had been friends for years, she had no right to meddle in his affairs.
Wanting to lash out, he remained composed. “Is she at her parent’s in St. Louis?”
Mike stepped up. “Yes, she is, Cash, and it would be best if you left her alone.” Did everyone think him not good enough for Raeden? What the hell? He didn’t care what anyone thought. She had become his wife and he would get her back. Nothing would sway him from his goal.
“It’s for me to decide. By the way, did the rings I ordered arrive?”
