Destiny's Dawn

by Rosanne Bittner

  “I know.”

  Their eyes held, both realizing that already another young one was preparing to leave the nest.

  “They’ll grow up and leave us, Caleb—and then it will be just you and me, the way it started,” she said softly.

  She saw the pain in his eyes. Their younger years were not at all what they should have been. They had lost their best years. Now they were just doing their best to make the most of what was left to them.

  His eyes seemed to tear, and he looked as if he wanted to say more, but he just turned and left.

  • Chapter Nine •

  Caleb removed his clothes, glad he had already taken the time to pay for a bath at the fort. He knew he would be late getting home and he didn’t want to disturb anyone, least of all Sarah. Before leaving Bent’s Fort he had washed his hair and worked the grime out of his pores, then put on new bleached buckskins for which he had just done some hard bartering with an Indian woman. Now he tossed the new clothing onto a chair, removing even his underwear. It was a hot night.

  Lynda had let them in, and now everything was quiet. James, who along with Cale had helped take in the horses, had bedded down in the outer room. Lynda and Jess were sleeping in the loft, which they always did whenever Caleb had to be away. They couldn’t be sure he would get back that night, and Lynda would not think of leaving her mother alone. James was recruited to the floor, but he didn’t seem to mind. Cale, much to Lynda’s disappointment, had stayed behind at the fort with Ten Stars and Buffalo Boy.

  Caleb looked through the curtained doorway again to be sure James was asleep. There had been little conversation between James and Cale on their trip to the fort with the horses. Caleb knew James still felt responsible for what had happened to his mother and felt less capable than Cale. Caleb had tried to talk to the boy all the way home, but there seemed to be no getting through to him. It was becoming impossible to share the warm closeness he had always had with Tom.

  He turned away, wondering what more he could do. Perhaps nothing. Perhaps it was only a matter of time and healing, a matter of James’s deciding for himself the kind of man he would be. Few understood better than Caleb Sax what it was like to be a man of two worlds. But maybe it was harder for James because he looked all white.

  He moved to the foot of the bed, studying a sleeping Sarah. How beautiful she looked. For the life of him he couldn’t see that she looked much different from when he had first fallen in love with her over thirty years ago. Did James blame his father for his mother’s hard life and past suffering? He didn’t need James’s accusations for that. He was having a hard enough time living with his own guilt for the same feelings. He would never choose for anything bad to happen to his Sarah. He had only loved her. But the rest of the world had declared it was wrong for an Indian to love a white woman, and they would not change their minds, not in his lifetime, probably not in anyone’s lifetime.

  He tried to concentrate on happier thoughts. At least Sarah was getting better, and he had sold the horses to Colonel Kearny. He had brought home some supplies, and a gift for Sarah—a lovely gold and ivory brooch, which had cost him plenty. But it was worth it. It wasn’t often that he splurged on something that wasn’t really necessary, but he wanted to do something to make up for Sarah’s suffering. His heart ached at the memory of having to dig out the bullet from her shoulder and bring her the hideous pain.

  He walked around and blew out the lantern Sarah had kept turned up for him, then crawled under the light blanket that covered her, trying not to disturb her. But she gave out a sleepy little moan and spontaneously snuggled closer, her back to him. He turned and reached around her, kissing her hair and running a big hand gently over her belly and breasts through the soft, flannel gown. She came more fully awake and turned.

  “Caleb. What time is it?”

  He kissed her cheek. “Very very late. I didn’t mean to wake you,” he answered in a near whisper.

  “It’s all right. At least it’s all over and you’re home to stay.”

  He nuzzled her neck, moving his hand up to grasp some of her thick hair in his fingers. “That’s one thing for certain. Now get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.” He kissed her lips lightly, then stretched out on his back, sighing deeply. “I can’t believe how well you’re healing, Sarah. It’s only been nine days. Thank God nothing vital was hit.”

  She reached over and touched his chest. “Caleb, I—” She suddenly started crying and he rose up on one elbow, leaning over her.

  “What’s wrong, Sarah?”

  She couldn’t reply right away. He pulled her close, being careful of the bandaged shoulder. He kissed her hair, waiting for her to speak.

  “Just . . . a late reaction, I guess,” she finally whispered, sniffing and wiping at her eyes. “It could have been you or James. Thank God no one in the family was badly hurt.”

  He kissed her gently. “Don’t cry, Sarah. I’ve always hated it when you cry.” He kissed her eyes. “The worst part is that most of the time I’m the cause of it.”

  “No, Caleb. That isn’t true. You’re the only real happiness I’ve known.” She reached up and touched his face in the darkness. “Make love to me, Caleb,” she whispered.

  He took her hand and kissed the palm. “You aren’t strong enough.”

  “You can be careful. I have hardly any pain, Caleb, unless you actually touch my shoulder.” She sniffed again. “I want to know you’re really here—that everything is all right.”

  He grinned and gently stroked the hair back from her face. “Well, I am really here, and everything really is all right. You need your rest, Sarah.”

  “Please,” she whispered. “I need you to make love to me.”

  He knew her well enough to know that if he could see her face in full light it would be crimson. It was not like her to be so bold, in spite of all their years together. He held back an urge to laugh and tease her, sensing a certain need in her that went beyond sexual desire.

  He moved his hand along her leg, pushing up her gown and gently stroking secret places. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” She breathed deeply to relax, relishing his touch.

  His fingers probed gently and she leaned up to kiss his chest. “I want you inside of me, Caleb.” She knew the words sounded brazen, but she also knew he would understand. He moved carefully on top of her, finding it easy to be ready for her. He guided himself inside of her slowly, worried that his movements would bring her pain, but she was breathing deeply and rhythmically with every thrust.

  He raised up on his knees so as not to put any weight on her, grasping her under the hips, doing all the moving for her so that all she had to do was lie there and enjoy. Her smooth moistness told him he was bringing her pleasure and not pain, and moments later he felt the warm, grasping pulsation of her climax, so sweet that it brought a groan to his own lips.

  He was tired from the long night’s ride. Every bone ached from the ordeal of the last several days. But right now none of it mattered.

  He leaned closer, resting on his elbows and leaning down to meet Sarah’s mouth, searching its depths with his tongue while his life spilled into her in great surges of his own emotional relief.

  “I love you, Sarah,” he whispered, leaving her mouth but letting his lips linger on her cheeks and eyes, then nuzzling her throat before he moved off her. He pulled down her gown and held her close. “Are you all right?”

  She was suddenly very tired. “I’m all right,” she said sleepily. “I should get up and wash.”

  “Just stay right where you are. I’ll help you wash in the morning.” He pulled the blankets up around her neck. The early morning hours had taken on a chill.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  He stroked her hair, realizing only minutes later that she was asleep again. She was like a little girl sometimes, cuddling up to him as though the only safe place to be was in Caleb Sax’s arms. He thought about the gold and ivory brooch, but she was already asleep. He would gi
ve it to her in the morning.

  Juanita held her rosary close to her breast, praying again for a safe journey for Tom. He had only been gone five days, but it seemed like forever. She felt his presence as though he were in her room, and she wished so much that he were. Things had suddenly changed on the ranch; the lovely peace she had always known there seemed somehow gone. She wondered if something bad had actually happened in only the last few days, or if it was just Tom’s absence that made her feel so anxious.

  Luisa had been fussing for the past four or five days about the americanos who were getting very demanding, saying there had been fighting somewhere between Americans and californios and clucking that the world was coming to an end. Juanita’s father felt it was nothing for his young daughter to be worried about, so it was impossible to get a straight story out of the man; but Juanita sensed her father’s deep concern. There had been meetings in his study with other Spanish landowners, meetings held late at night and in secret. Juanita felt an odd fear of the unknown, and more than ever she wished Tom were with her to hold her. She would gladly run away with him if he came for her, but she knew that in his good heart he still wanted to do the right thing. He would try to talk to her father when he returned and convince the man to let them be married.

  She went to the mirror and brushed out her hair, smoothing her green cotton dress and going out into the hall. Perhaps if she spoke to her father first, told him how she felt about Tom, she could pave the way for when he would return and ask for her hand.

  The house was quiet. She walked through the sprawling bedroom wing of the graceful stucco mansion and through a cool hallway to her father’s study. She had heard him come in minutes ago. Through open windows and doorways she could hear birds singing peacefully and could see roses blooming outside. An odd chill moved through her, because for an unexplainable reason she sensed something terribly wrong in spite of the beautiful morning.

  She breathed deeply and knocked on the door to her father’s study. She heard his voice. “Entra.”

  She slowly opened the door and peeked inside, meeting her father’s dark eyes. “What is it, Juanita? I am busy.”

  “Father, I . . . I wish to talk to you . . . about Tom.”

  His eyebrows shot up and he put down his pen, leaning back in his chair, his dark eyes studying her closely. “You have come to tell me that you love him and that he loves you.”

  She looked at him in surprise, stepping farther inside, her cheeks looking crimson in spite of her dark skin. “How did you know!”

  The man smiled rather sadly. “I was in love once myself, you know—with your mother. Besides, I have been asking Luisa what your visits are like.”

  Juanita swallowed, looking at the floor. “I think when Tom returns . . . he will ask you for permission to marry me, Father.”

  Galvez sighed deeply. “And I am afraid I would have to say no, Juanita. You are still too young, and I have perhaps made a mistake letting Tom Sax see you. He is at an age where he will be very anxious to start a family.”

  She raised her eyes to meet her father’s. “But I love him, Father! Some women marry even younger than me! Please give us permission.”

  Her eyes teared in desperation, and Galvez rose from his chair. “You should not be discussing these things with me, Juanita. It is something between Tom and myself. I will consider your feelings, but you have not been seeing Tom long enough to be so certain of your feelings. In another year—”

  His words were interrupted by shooting in the distance. He frowned and hurried to a window, calling out to one of his men. “Ramone! What is it?”

  It seemed to him that the man took his time answering. Ramone showed little concern as he looked up from the hitching post where he was tying his horse. “I am not sure, patrón, I will go and see.”

  “Well, get going then—pronto!” Galvez turned away from the window, failing to see Ramone pull a rifle from his gear and head into the house. “Get to your room, Juanita! There is some kind of trouble.”

  The girl had barely any time to turn before the door burst open and Emanuel Hidalgo stood there, rifle in hand. Juanita gasped and stepped back.

  “Emanuel!” Galvez frowned, stepping closer. “What is this!”

  The man smiled, an evil glitter to his dark eyes that made Juanita shiver.

  “I decided; patrón, that I did not like the thought of waiting another year, perhaps longer, to enjoy the favors of your daughter and to have the joy of owning land!” He stepped inside the room, waving the gun at Galvez, two men behind him.

  Juanita felt her chest tighten almost painfully, her muscles trembling and her ears beginning to ring when Emanuel turned his gaze to her for a moment, looking her up and down hungrily.

  “I am confused, Emanuel,” Galvez spoke up. “Put that gun away!”

  Emanuel looked back at the man with great contempt. “You have ordered me around long enough, Señor Galvez,” he sneered. “Lately I have come to realize that my patrón would never consider Emanuel Hidalgo worthy of being part of his family. So I said to myself, perhaps with this new trouble with the americanos there is a way I can have what I want much sooner, if I cooperate with them. So I tell them, if Emanuel tells you the easiest way to take over the estate of Don Antonio Galvez with little or no bloodshed, will you award Emanuel a piece of Galvez land and his daughter?” He grinned more when he heard an odd choking sound from Juanita’s throat. “And they said, yes, we will let you have that much. Antonio Galvez has much land, much cattle and horses. We would like very much to break his power. It will help us in our cause, for we must crush the wealthy californios.”

  He just stood there a moment, letting it all sink in as more gunshots came from the surrounding hills and outbuildings. Then they heard Luisa scream from somewhere in the house, followed by shouting. The heavyset woman was running through the house calling for Juanita.

  “Shut up, you fat mama,” they heard someone yell. There was the sound of a blow, and there were no more screams from Luisa. Juanita broke into a cold sweat, looking around desperately for a place to run. Her father moved his hand toward an open drawer, and Emanuel’s gun fired. Galvez flew backward against the wall.

  “Father!” Juanita stared in disbelief as the man’s body slid down the wall. She ran to him, leaning over his bleeding body. “Father! Father!”

  Galvez looked at her with wide, teared eyes. “You . . . you were right . . . my daughter,” he choked out, “Tom. He will . . . come. Go with him.”

  His body shuddered and Juanita leaned over him to hold him, but someone grabbed her arm painfully and jerked her up. Emanuel shoved the barrel of his rifle against her throat. His eyes were wild and victorious, his grin hungry. His handsomeness was totally erased by the sneer of his lips and the coldness of his heart. “Now you will finally be mine, Doña Juanita Rosanna Galvez de Sonoma.”

  She struggled to get away, but he jammed the rifle hard, half choking her and burning her neck, the gun barrel still hot from just being fired.

  “I have a few things to do first, my sweet Juanita. My men will take you up to your room to wait for me.” He took the rifle away, handing it to one of Galvez’s own men, who was in on the plot and who now stepped closer, grinning as Emanuel forced Juanita’s arms behind her back and kissed her savagely. She twisted wildly, but he only kissed her harder, hurting her lips and making her teeth cut into them until they bled, He finally released her, throwing her on the floor.

  “Take her upstairs,” he told the other two men. “Strip her and tie her to her bed.” He gave them a black, warning look. “Do not touch her! I will be the first. If either of you touch her I will kill you!”

  Juanita struggled to her feet. “Tom Sax . . . will come,” she wept. “He will kill you for this!”

  “Your beloved Tom will never get back in time, bitch,” Emanuel sneered. “Besides, he does not care about you. He only wanted to get under your skirts. Only I will be first at that! When he learns this, he will no longer want you.�
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  Juanita stared at him a moment, trying to understand it all. Tom! How could he save her now? Was it true he would not come to help her, would not want her? She would not believe it. Surely he would come any moment. He would never let these men touch her! The thought of it brought vomit to her throat and terror to every nerve, bone, and muscle in her body. It was supposed to be beautiful. It was supposed to be with Tom. Not this way—

  She started to run, but she was dazed and frantic and no match for the two men who helped Emanuel, both of them men her father had trusted. Each man grabbed an arm and dragged Juanita, kicking and screaming, out of the room. Emanuel watched coldly, feeling an almost painful passion at the thought of finally possessing her. He would show the haughty bitch! Now it was Emanuel Hidalgo who had the power!

  He picked up his rifle and hurried through the beautiful, cool hallway, grinning at the sound of the still screaming and crying Juanita. He hurried outside. Lecho de Rosas was crushed. Part of it would belong to him now, and so would its young heiress! It had all been so easy. He was glad for the Mexican war and the Bear Flag revolution. Now he was free—his own man. And soon Juanita Galvez would find out just how much of a man he was! She would submit eventually. He would make her feel so good she would wonder why she always ignored him before. She would pay now—pay for turning him away—pay for wanting an Indian!

  He hurried outside, where already several of the attacking Americans were herding Galvez men into a circle. They would be arrested and held until it was certain there would be no Spanish uprising against the American settlers.

  Emanuel walked up to the big man the Americans considered the leader of this raid. His name was John Hughes, and to Emanuel’s delight the man had no scruples. He had been easy to deal with. Hughes and his men had destroyed Lecho de Rosas, with Emanuel’s help from the inside and the promise that Emanuel could have Juanita. Emanuel did not fear Tom Sax now. If Tom was after the ranch and the money, there would be none of those things left after today, nor would his precious Juanita be a virgin any longer!