The Beholding, page 18
Tess sat up straight, suddenly aware of Luke’s closeness. A rush of sensation radiated from the pit of her stomach. Her breath lodged in her throat as a longing, piercing and sweet, claimed her.
Luke’s body responded when she sucked in her breath, disclosing the desire stirring within her. She looked up and her eyes warmed like glazed emeralds. Dangerous. She was just too damned dangerous. She knows how to make a man lose his mind… forget his word.
“Get ready to ride,” Luke commanded roughly. “We’ll move out when the herd does. We leave in twenty minutes.”
She glanced at him in surprise, wondering what had irritated him. “But Mr. Peabody said he had some buckskins that might fit me. I don’t think I can stand this”—she touched the hem of her dress—"another moment longer.”
Luke handed her the brush and gave the Englishman a goto-Hell-in-a-channel-boat glare. “Better get to fitting into them, because we’re moving out… now.”
Tess knew better than to waste seconds arguing. Even so, she barely had time to change clothes. When she stepped out of the wagon dressed in the buckskins, she thought perhaps she had forgotten to put something on.
Luke stood there gawking as her hands smoothed down the supple deerhide that fit her like a tailor-made skin. The leggings were just as snug as the top, enhancing every detail of her fine figure.
She felt conspicuous and elated all in the same instant. In the Hot Springs bathhouse, she had not worn garments this revealing, so the buckskin felt a bit scandalous even though it covered everything her dress had. On the other hand, if it made Luke look at her like that, she might just wear it from now till Armageddon. Perhaps now he wouldn’t leave her for that job which seemed so important.
“I’m ready. Shall I take the mule or one of the horses?”
“Take Talon,” Luke grumbled, mounting behind Tommie on one of the mules. “Daggert’s packing the supplies Chisholm sold us on Jenny. Tom and I will share Jack. This ought to see us into Wichita where I can purchase some more supplies.”
And a change of dresses, he added silently as she mounted. He refused to watch that pretty little buckskin bounce against the saddle from here to Colorado. The remaining distance to Wichita would be long enough to endure the distraction.
Chapter Eighteen
Topping the rise overlooking the junction of the Big and Little Arkansas Rivers, Tess witnessed a scene of such lush natural abundance she knew that the settlement was destined to become an important city.
Buffalo, fat and sleek, grazed and lay in the warm sun. Tipis and grass huts stretched for a mile along the river. Wichita served as a center of trade among several tribes. Luke had told her a bit of history about the area, saying he needed to prepare her for the unusual sight of so many friendly Indians. Wichita Indians loyal to the Union during the recent War Between the States took up residency here on the Osage Trail for protection from the Confederate tribes who were in dire straits now.
It was a new town, born overnight to meet the demands of white and red men alike who traveled the local trails and freighting routes. And from all Tess had learned, it promised to become one of the fastest growing settlements in Kansas.
A sprawling hodgepodge of structures rose in the distance. On the outskirts of town, a barrel-chested mule skinner took notice of the incoming party and shaded his eyes to peer closer at Tess. He started running down the center of the street yelling at the top of his lungs, “Here she comes! She’s here! The white woman’s here!”
Traders and mule skinners, Indians of every shape, size and tribe, began to gather and stopped conducting their business along the avenue to watch Tess ride in. An appreciative murmur rippled through the gang of men who doffed their hats in respect. Several took to spit-polishing their hair, dusting their vests and buckskins and wiping tobacco stains from their mouths. As she passed, Tess offered the briefest smile for the courtesy extended her, but did not meet anyone’s gaze directly for fear they would think she favored one over the other.
“I’d say you’ll have no trouble getting a room tonight.” Jim’s face lit with approval at the sight of several saloons in which he could ply his long-unused trade. An extended game of poker was just the sport he needed to wear off the trail dust.
“Look at all ’em Indians, Mommie.” Tommie pointed to the rows of triangled lodges extending well into the horizon. “You ever seen so many tipis in the whole wide world?”
Absorbing the sights and sounds wholly foreign to one who had spent most of her married life avoiding this race of people, Tess answered honestly, “No, son. I haven’t. But it’s nice to see everyone getting along so well.”
“That’s because it’s big profit for the traders to stay friends with these tribes,” Luke informed her.
A large, strong-looking man with crow-black hair and clear blue eyes shouldered his way through the crowd. A wave of people parted to allow him room, displaying the respect he had apparently earned from the community. The man approached, waving them toward a hitching post. “Mrs. Contessa Harper?”
Tess glanced at Luke for approval. When he nodded consent, she acknowledged her identity. “Yes, I’m Tess Harper.”
“I’d like to introduce myself. James Meade’s my name. Got a trading ranch east of here at Towanda.” The handsome man doffed his hat. “Welcome to Wichita. To you and your friends.”
Luke reined up short where the man stood near a low-roofed building. Bold painted letters advertised the establishment as Don Carlos’s Trading Post Rough, blustering men crowded along the avenue, watching Tess dismount. Luke cursed the flex and give of the buckskin she wore, defining the lush womanhood beneath.
The ant hill of activity in the public marketplace, carpeted in a finely ground layer of dust, halted. Tradesmen quit hawking their wares, Indians stopped bartering blankets and pottery. Shell-game operators, medicine showmen and black soft shoe dancers momentarily lost their curious and gullible audiences to the unusual attraction of Tess.
Uneasy about the intense attention given her, Tess wished now she had stopped along the trail and changed her dress. A quick glance at Don Carlos’s shop window revealed two fashionable dresses she would give almost anything to purchase. But the finery cost more than she could spare. Blinking away her disappointment, she gave one last look at the white-bordered muslin with the pattern of roses sewn into the flounces. She would simply have to make do and endure the buckskins despite the attention they drew.
Waving at Tess’s retinue, now completely encircled by grinning, raw-boned men, Meade invited her to go with him and see how the good people of Wichita would make her feel at home.
To the townsmen he shouted, “Now you heard that. I don’t want any of you gentlemen sneaking a pinch for free. This is a respectable lady, and I’ll bust any man’s head who tries to worsen her!”
Ignoring a grumble from the disenchanted, he offered his arm to Tess. She happened to glance at Luke and noticed his face close into an unreadable mask. Could he be jealous?
Her gaze shifted to Jim. The gambler’s expression seemed rapt as he stared longingly toward the plentiful saloons. He was finally in his element. Perhaps he would leave their company and forgo traveling on to Georgetown. Surprised that she felt no disappointment at the prospect of losing Jim’s added security as scout, Tess knew without a doubt she would not have the same reaction if Luke chose to abandon them.
It might do the bounty hunter good to think she could get along without him, however. He had brooded every since leaving Chisholm’s camp.
Meade looked like a gladiator ready to bust a few lions’ heads. Tommie gawked at the town’s leader. Tess accepted Meade’s arm, deciding he would suit her purpose just fine. “Thank you for your kind welcome, Mr. Meade.”
“My pleasure, ma’am.” He led them down Douglas Avenue at a fast clip. Turning into Main Street, the town’s business center, Meade pointed out various establishments and described the horde of trail hands and Indians who used Wichita for trade.
Every storefront in town seemed dedicated to separating the visitor from his money. Red, white and blue banners hung across each door and window, reminding Tess that today was the nation’s birthday … and Tommie’s as well. She had forgotten! How could she afford a gift when every penny must see them to Georgetown?
She was given no time to mull, as the crowd and Meade urged her along. With the exception of a boardinghouse-hotel, a mercantile emporium, and a bank that Meade said wasn’t full-throttled yet, the entire business community of Wichita was devoted to imbibing or to Indian trade. As the procession passed each establishment, more and more men began leaving the saloons to join the trailing crowd. Shouting and laughing, they ogled Tess, filling the air with verbal approval.
Bringing up the rear, Luke was hard pressed to keep them from rushing in to challenge Meade’s warning. But the scowl on Luke’s face forced them to back off a few paces.
Abruptly, Meade halted before a pleasant frame house with a covered front porch. Unlike any of the surrounding buildings, it was set back off the street and bordered by a low picket fence. The throng of trail hands and mule skinners crowded closer, watching her face expectantly.
“Used to be the sheriff’s. We cleaned it up and painted it ‘specially for you.” Looking around the crowd, Meade’s eyes lit with pride. “Nothing else like it in Wichita, maybe in the whole of Kansas!”
Tess tried not to gawk, searched desperately for something to say.
“What’s the matter, Mrs. Harper?” Meade lowered his voice almost to a whisper as the men edged closer, straining to hear every word. “Don’t you like it?”
“Like it? Oh, it’s magnificent.” She blinked, thinking maybe her vision was clouded from too much trail dust, too many nights of praying she was home and in her own bed. Too many nights of wanting a home of her own and not a borrowed one.
“Magnificent, she said!” he shouted. As he faced the enthralled audience, Meade’s chest seemed to burst the seams of the shirt he wore. “Isn’t that just about the finest word we ever heard, men? I knew we were doing a mighty fine job fixing it up, just didn’t know it was magnificent.” He turned to Tess. “Magnificent enough to call Wichita your home, Mrs. Harper?”
My home? Possibility filled Tess. Images of what could be. But wasn’t Harper Hall waiting on them in Colorado? “Please don’t be disappointed,” she began, unwilling to let the man become too exuberant in his expectations, all the while disbelieving she was actually turning down the offer. “I love the house. Really I do. It’s just that I can’t accept your gift. I couldn’t deprive the sheriff of his home, nor am I planning to stay.”
“Tell her, Meade. Tell her how much we want her to stay!” one of the trail hands yelled from the edge of the crowd. “Unless you want me to hog-tie her and make the little lady’s mind up for her.”
“Shut your mouth, mister.” Luke jabbed his finger at the man who spoke, then glared around at the rest of the crowd. “Mrs. Harper has a mind of her own and you’d do well not to butt in.” Rushed with anger, he knotted his left hand into a fist. He couldn’t take them all on, but he could bust a few jaws as he went down.
“Enough!” Meade roared. “This is no way to welcome folks to our fair city. Let’s show them some hospitality and maybe she’ll change her mind.” Opening the gate, he waited until she, Tommie, Luke and Jim passed through before shutting it off to others. To the crowd he announced, “Now you all get the fixings underway and rouse up Professor Kettle. Tell him Mrs. Harper’s arrived and we’re ready for the festivities to begin.”
“What sort of festivities?” Tess asked in unison with Luke.
Meade glanced at Luke, paused, seemed to remember something, then scratched his temple. “You’re Reeves… the bounty hunter.”
“So?”
Meade waved them toward the front door of the house. “So … I’d like a word with you before you get busy with some of the other finer … er… offerings of Wichita.”
“I’m already committed to a job. Not looking for another.”
“I appreciate a man who finishes what he starts. I’m talking later. I’d like to buy you a drink, but for now let me get Mrs. Harper settled.”
An ominous feeling swept over Tess. Meade didn’t look like the kind of man who just chitchatted. So that meant some sort of official business was to transpire, and she didn’t like the sound of that, at all. Something stirred in the wind, and intuitively she knew it had nothing to do with goodwill and brotherhood.
As she climbed the steps to the house, a premonition made her wary, and she found herself wishing they could just take the next stage to Colorado.
“Come in, Mrs. Harper…”
Meade sounded like the spider inviting the fly. Goose flesh beaded up Tess’s neck, pooling in an icy tingle at the top of her head.
“… Welcome to what I hope is your new home.”
Tess followed him into the house, grateful he didn’t insist upon showing her anything but the parlor. Luke stood, refusing a seat on one of the chairs that matched the rosewood davenport where Tess and Tommie settled. He chose to look out the nearest window with his back to the wall.
“Come now, don’t look so skittish, Mrs. Harper.”
Meade’s mouth quirked in a small smile, yet Tess couldn’t rid herself of the idea that he meant to intimidate Luke. “What is it you want from us?” she asked, making certain she included Luke in her request.
The town leader’s smile froze and his eyes narrowed as he inspected her.
Tess suppressed a shudder. The man resembled a snake sizing up its victim to see if she was worth the price of challenging a fiercer predator.
“I admire a woman who prefers to control her own fate, Mrs. Harper,” Meade complimented. “Building empires happens to be my game. But last year I’ve lost three sheriffs, one run out of town and two others murdered. Staring straight down my throat is another trading season. Newspapers all over the East herald my Wichita as the most progressive town in Kansas. In the West, too, for that matter. Wichita will be the hub for all trails west.”
“What does that have to do with us?” Tess asked.
“Though it offers the promise of a beef industry that can reach every kitchen in the nation”—Meade’s gaze examined Tess, leaving approval in its wake—"Wichita lacks two vital ingredients for success. We need good women to attract the finer elements of a township, like a church and schools. The second is just as important as bringing in women. We’re defenseless, stripped of law enforcement like a freshly plucked chicken.” Without altering his perusal, Meade addressed his next words to Luke. “Mr. Reeves, your reputation follows you even here. You’re the answer I need to contain the traders’ and trail hands’… shall we say, more destructive urges.”
“See anything you like, Meade? Or are you just window shopping?” Luke’s stance widened.
Meade blinked, smiling apologetically at Tess, then feigning innocence with Luke. “Sorry. Sometimes I get carried away with the trials and tribulations of being a small-town mayor.” Hitching forward in his chair, he redirected his focus to Tommie. “Which brings me to the reason for this chat. No doubt, Mrs. Harper, you and your son have made plans to go on to Colorado as we’ve all heard.”
“Yes, that’s right. We plan to take the first stage to Denver.”
“We hoped to persuade you to stay and set up residency here. Good women like yourself will arrive, following your lead. Children for your boy to play with. I know that with the help of my wife, Agnes, the two of you can begin a Lady’s Auxiliary League, leading the community to the finer amenities that women are so astute in developing. As I mentioned before … such things as churches, schools and, of course, the theater.”
Luke relaxed a fraction on learning that the trader was married and not interested in Tess as a future bride for himself. If she was the fortune hunter claimed in the Hot Springs report, a mayor might prove a welcome prospect for remarriage. Still, from the sound of things, Meade expected her to marry someone else. Either prospect didn’t sit well with Luke.
“Me?” Tess could not have been more surprised if he had named her President. “You know nothing about me, sir.”
“True. But a woman without the reputation experienced by some of the rest of our less fortunate would prove profitable for Wichita.”
Tess would not consider the possibility. She wanted no part of a place that accepted her for reputation’s sake. She would become no better than General Hunt’s wife at Fort Smith. Before she could utter a quick refusal, Luke interrupted.
“Now the truth comes out.” The bounty hunter sauntered from the window and stood behind Tess. “You want to use her to attract a better element. Bring more money to your pocketbook.”
Jim took Meade’s defense. “That’s not so awful, is it? She would be respected and pampered. Contessa deserves that.”
Luke snarled at the gambler. “And bring in a richer man to sit at your poker tables. That certainly pleases you, doesn’t it, Daggert?”
“I won’t be used and need no one to take my defense!” Anger spurred Tess to stand. Her voice crackled with irritation and authority. “This is a lovely house your community prepared for me, but I really can’t accept it. Please use it for a school or church or one of those finer amenities you propose.” Drawing her son to her side, she straightened her shoulders in the face of the mayor’s disapproval. “Tommie and I are proceeding to Harper Hall in Georgetown because it’s the home his father left to us. Surely you can understand the sentimental value of my decision, if nothing else.”
“Please, Mrs, Harper. I’m asking for the sake of what’s best for the community.”
“And I’m doing what is best for me and my son. There are other women waiting for such an opportunity, I assure you, Mr. Meade. If I can be safely escorted across Indian territory, why not do as you’ve done with that cow herd you entrusted to Jesse Chisholm? Hire a group of men to guide willing brides to the area. You don’t need me; you simply need a better plan.”
