Echoes of the Heart (39 page)

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 have 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.”