Harlot at the Homestead (7 page)

“And?”

“Henderson explained the terms.” She rested her forehead on her knees. “He said that my uncle’s debt was so great that it would take quite some time to pay it off. If I was serious about helping…I had to know what was involved.”

“The filthy bastard! I’ll hang him from the nearest tree if I ever get my hands on him. I swear I’ll—”

“No!” Her retort was cold and firm. “It won’t do, Kenan. I went along with it and now the debt is settled. I won’t have retribution and the grief that it will cause. Can’t you see that I did what I had to and now I’m back? I have to move on or else I’d just as well give up! I didn’t go through all that…all those days and nights of…of suffering…just to throw everything away!”

Her eyes filled with tears and her lower lip trembled.

“I might be wrong but you seem to have feelings for me still.” She blinked hard. “And maybe we can salvage something from this mess but not…not if you’re intent upon revenge. Thomas Henderson is a rich and powerful man and if you go up against him, Kenan, you can only lose. And I agreed remember…no one forced me!”

Kenan ground his fists into his eyes and tried to calm his breathing. What Catherine said made sense even though it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Another man had taken the woman he loved as payment for a debt incurred by her uncle. It was outrageous, disgusting and immoral but she had gone along with it. The law was hard to implement at the best of times and Henderson was a man with means, with power. In comparison, Kenan was a cattle driver with a small homestead. He did all right but he’d be no match for the likes of Henderson…not if he went about it the legal route anyhow.

“Okay, Catherine,” he whispered. “I’ll put all desire for retribution aside.”
For now
, he added to himself. “Please just finish explaining.”

“He took my hand and I had to fight the urge to snatch it back. The smoke from his cigar burnt my eyes and made me want to cough. But I couldn’t take my eyes off his face, Kenan! It was huge! Like a large florid sack broken only by his beady gray eyes which reminded me of small rocks stuck in a mud pie. I later found out that he was only in his early thirties—same as you—but he looked much older ‘cos of the bright red veins running from the sides of his nose like cracks in the scorched earth.” She shuddered and Kenan ground his teeth together at the image she’d created.

“He said that I was an attractive woman and that with the right clothes and perfumes I could make a man real happy.”

“What a blowhard!”

“I guess I looked kinda country-girl compared with the fine New York ladies.” She looked up from beneath her lashes.

Kenan eyed her thick red curls, her pretty little nose with its spattering of freckles then into her bright green eyes. There was nothing about her that any woman—wealthy and spoiled, fine and aristocratic—could ever top in his eyes. Catherine was perfect, beautiful, bright and sweet. And she had been his woman, his world, his future.

“He asked if I’d be prepared to try to make him happy. Though it made me feel sick, I said that I’d do whatever was required of me for however long it took to pay off the debt. I was hoping that he’d say a week or two, a month at most, so when he said two years I nearly vomited all over him.”

“That’s why you’ve been gone so long.”

“Yes…He said they’d deal with matters in Virginia City by telling folks I’d been taken by Indians. They’d make it look like I’d been kidnapped and my uncle would spread the story.”

“By ‘folks’ he meant me.”

“Mainly. My uncle had told him I had an intended.”

“And that didn’t bother him?”

“He asked me straight up then if I was intact.”

“What?” Kenan had to force his mouth shut. “What did you say?”

“I told him the truth. I didn’t want to lie in case it made the deal null and void. He said it didn’t bother him and made a comment about it making the way easier for him.” Her face drained of all color at the memory.

“Oh, Catherine!” Kenan’s blood boiled as the meaning behind her words sank in. The man had fully intended to keep her as a whore—to use her perfect body, to delve into her bright and inquisitive mind, to take from her what was a gift for her to bestow upon the man she loved.

“Then he pulled a paper from his pocket. He said that I had to sign it to make the contract real. My uncle’s bleary eyes were on me and I could read the desperation in them. So I did it. Though my heart thrummed like a trapped butterfly and my stomach felt like it would empty its contents right then and there, I signed away my life for two years…and became…” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I became a harlot!”

“Oh my sweetheart.” Kenan moved closer to her and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, smoothing away the tears as they burst forth and ran like raindrops down her flawless cheeks.

“He took me to New York City where he kept me in a set of rooms in a large fancy house like some kind of pet bird. For a while, he kept me hidden away, to let things blow over here, he said. But after about two months, I’m not sure exactly ‘cos I didn’t have any way of keeping track of time, he started taking me out to the theater and to dine with his acquaintances.”

“During which time I was grieving for you, thinking you’d been killed and scalped and…ra…” Kenan choked on the last word.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.” He sniffed, fighting against his own tears of anger and frustration.

“If I could have seen another way, Kenan, I would have taken it.”

He shook his head. What did it matter now?

“Did he hurt you?”

She sighed. “Do I have to answer that?”

“I need to know, Catherine or it will haunt me forever.”

“He used me as a man would his wife. He wasn’t exactly tender but he didn’t, ya know, hurt me down there.” Her cheeks filled with color and she hung her head. “He knew I was no virgin so there were no coy games. I don’t want to…I can’t describe the details so please don’t ask me to. Those I really need to forget.” She chewed her lip. “But, no, he didn’t hurt me in that way.”

“I cannot bear to think of you…” Kenan took a deep breath, swallowing the words that would only cause her pain and shame. She was embarrassed enough and had suffered enough.

“Kenan.” She let the blanket fall to her waist and he gasped at her exposed beauty. Her hair tumbled all around her, curling as it dried, its titian waves reminding him of the flame colored streaks painting the sky in a beautiful sunset. The milky skin of her neck and torso were soft and unblemished, broken only by the large rosy circles at the center of her full heavy bosoms and the hard pink nubs that begged to be touched and taken deep into his hungry mouth.

He watched, spellbound, as she placed a quivering hand over her heart. “I swear to you that although I submitted my body, I never surrendered my heart or my mind. And…though it’ll not be of much comfort…you should know that the attentions he paid me did not last long. When he realized that he was unable to penetrate my coldness, unable to sever me from my loyalty to you, he seemed to lose his virility… In fact, he lost the urge to even try. My scorn emasculated him and he was unable to—”

“It’s okay!” Kenan stopped her. “Pray do not say anymore, you do not need to.”

“I’m so sorry to upset you. I’m so ashamed, Kenan.”

“It’s not you who should be ashamed, Catherine. So how…did you get the marks on your arms?” As he asked the question, he ran a fingertip over the red welts that marred the ivory skin.

“Those are the markers to show the passing of time. He said I was like a bonded slave, that I would be his for two years and that he would mark me for every month that passed so that I would know how long I had left.”

“How did he…?”

“With a red hot knife sharpened by his manservant. Henderson would heat it until it smoked then press it into my skin, dragging the blade through the flesh.” Her eyes glazed over as she spoke.

“The crazy bastard!” Kenan cursed. “He had no right to do this! No right at all!”

“It was strange but in a way I almost welcomed the pain. It distracted me from the hurt inside and felt like a physical manifestation of it, plus each burn brought my freedom closer.”

“If only I’d known you were alive! I’d have come for you. I’d have torn him apart with my bare hands. Why didn’t you get word to me?”

“I knew that you would do that and also that it would solve nothing. Violence would have led to more violence. I had to hope that you loved me enough to keep going—to keep the memory of our love alive. I couldn’t risk you coming to New York and ending up dead. He’d have destroyed you way before you got to him. He was so powerful, so connected. I knew that I had to wait it out…to play his game.”

“Kind of a sick game, don’t you think?”

“It was. I know. But…There was a get out clause.”

Kenan raised his eyebrows.

“He said that if I fell in love with him…then he would stop marking me and if I could submit my heart and mind to him as I did my body then he would make me a free woman.”

“I don’t understand. You mean…if you’d just told him that you loved him he’d have let you go?”

“But I couldn’t, Kenan.”

“Why not? You could have come home to me sooner! Got word to me that you were safe.”

She shook her head. “The only thing that kept me sane all that time as I serviced him and paid off my uncle’s debt was knowing that although he’d taken my body, although he’d treated me like I was no better than a painted cat, he would never, ever possess me like you had. You have to understand that I absolutely could not give him anything else. He had my physical being and could command my presence whenever he chose but he would never ever have my love. That has…and always will remain…only yours.”

“Catherine!”

He pulled her toward him and into his arms, devouring her with kisses that told of his own undying devotion and at first she remained stiff, rigid with the pain of her memories but as he continued to kiss and caress her, he felt her melt in his arms, surrendering to his embrace and to her love for him.

* * * *

Catherine smoothed out her skirts then held her arms out to Kenan. He lifted her up to the saddle as easily as if she were a small child. She cocked a leg over the horse and slipped her foot into the stirrup. A tingling between her legs made her smile and she shifted slightly to adjust the material of her drawers.

“What’s funny?” Kenan looked up at her as he tightened the saddle then secured her foot in the stirrup.

“Our lovemaking has left me a little…” Her cheeks filled with heat. “Tender and, dare I say it, damp!”

He laughed then ran a hand up under her skirt, caressing the smooth skin of her thigh until he could cup the side of her buttock that was not touching the saddle.

“Wet and tender. We’d better get going or I will have to pull you down from the saddle and take you again!”

Catherine gasped. Following her confession, he had taken her into his arms and made love to her again, kissing every inch of her skin with a tenderness and passion that had brought tears to her eyes. He had even kissed every one of her scars and told her that they would always be reminders of how he had once lost her and how brave she had been.

Catherine was amazed at his understanding. She had feared losing him forever after she told him of her time as a bonded whore but he seemed accepting, if not unperturbed. How could she be so lucky? She had no idea but feared delving too deeply in case he changed his mind or she woke up from this beautiful dream to find herself still in New York, enslaved to a man whose touch made her skin crawl, her heart heavy and her mind numb.

Kenan sprang into his saddle then squinted at the sun.

“We’d best be getting back. It will be twilight soon and Rosie will be getting worried.”

“Of course,” Catherine agreed. Rosie was like a mother hen with her brothers. They were as important to the woman’s existence as sun and water were to crops.

Kenan dug his feet into his mare’s flanks and Catherine’s own horse fell into the same steady rhythm as it trotted along behind.

They soon arrived at the farm and Catherine was surprised at how emotional she felt. It was like coming home to the only place she had ever really felt safe and secure. But she should not forget that this was not her home. This was the Duggan homestead and she was not a Duggan. She once would have been but that time had gone and though Kenan had told her that he loved her, he had not mentioned marriage or their future.

Her heartbeat quickened. In her joy at his passion, she had not considered the reality of the situation but now here it was, staring her harshly in the face like the midday sun. She was a harlot, she had been used by another man, and once folks heard about her return, there would be questions. How could she tell them the truth? And what was the alternative? If they believed her uncle’s story that she’d been taken by the Indians then it would be even worse. She would forever be seen as tainted, like a spring where a dead animal’s rotting flesh has poisoned the water.

It was rare that a woman taken by the tribal warriors ever returned. If they did, then most made their living as painted cats and never expected a good, decent man like Kenan to take them to wife. Locals would be shocked if Kenan did so and Catherine wondered if it was even fair to place him in that position. It would be wrong of her to expect him to take that upon himself and his family. It would not do. She would have to spare this good, honest and decent man from any slander and make the decision for him.

“Hey!” Kenan made her jump . “Are you okay?”

She forced a smile. “Yes. Of course.”

She allowed him to help her dismount.

“I’ll stable the horses then come wash up before dinner.” He planted a kiss on her cheek. His lips were warm, his scent so familiar, that she felt the heaviness in her heart increase. She had been foolish to believe that she could really be his wife and take up her former place in his affections. He deserved better.

Catherine watched the man she loved disappear into the shadows of the barn then she trudged toward the little house, wondering how on earth she was going to summon the courage she needed to leave him again.