Beatrice and the Beast, page 33
‘Mister Zelletta!’
His shock and elation at hearing her voice rendered him speechless and it was only when she called his name again, was he able to reply.
‘Mister Zelletta; are you alright?’
His throat and mouth were dry, but after a moment, he was able to reply.
‘Yeah, I’m okay.’
A pause. Then…
‘Is that man dead?’
Goddamn it. Half his fool head is gone and she wonders if he’s dead.
‘If he ain’t, he’s putting on a damned good act.’
‘No need for sarcasm Mister Zelletta. I simply wish to know if it’s safe to come out.’
‘Yes, it’s safe. Why ain’t Charlie speaking?’
She tentatively, broke cover and slowly, approached from one side.
‘Charlie?’ she asked. ‘I thought we left him at Fort Worth.’
She skirted him and the dead man until she was facing Zelletta.
‘Who the hell shot him then?’ he asked indicating Brandon with his chin.
‘I’m afraid I had no choice,’ she said quietly. ‘I thought he was going to kill you. There was no other option.’
Once again, he was rendered speechless with utter disbelief as once again, she had proved to him exactly how strong and resilient, she really was. Then, for the first time, he noticed the Winchester in her hand as it hung by her side and at last, any doubt he’d harboured that she was telling the truth, evaporated like a puff of smoke.
‘Miss Mellowday. I take back every doubt I ever had about you completing this journey. Not only have you proved me wrong, but you saved my goddamned worthless life into the bargain. Now I would be grateful if you could see your way clear to cutting me loose so I can get this dead weight offa me.’
She was shaking with the horror of what she had done and stared in abhorrent fascination at the dead man lying on top of Zelletta.
‘Miss Mellowday.’
The spell was broken and she quickly turned her stare up to his face.
‘Oh, yes of course Mister Zelletta.’
‘His knife is lying here close to his hand. Can you see it?’
She turned her gaze to where he was looking and saw the knife close to the dead man’s fingers splattered with blood and bits of brain.
‘Oh god!’ She exclaimed. ‘Is there another knife I can use?’
‘Miss Zelletta, he can’t hurt you now, he’s dead and if it’s all the same to you, I’d be obliged if you’d cut me loose right now so I can get him offa me.’
She pulled a face that mirrored her utter revulsion. But she contained her fear and tentatively approached the dead man’s hand and the knife. She reached down to retrieve it but it was so close to the lifeless fingers she felt certain they would grab her wrist as soon as she took hold of the knife. She stood up straight and regarded Zelletta trying not to look too closely at the cadaver.
‘I’ll go to the supplies and find another one.’
‘Just pick the goddamned knife up and cut me loose damnit.’
She shot him a scathing look.
‘Well!’ she retorted outrageously. ‘There’s no need to browbeat me Mister Zelletta. Unlike you, I’m not used to dead bodies lying around all over the place. Where I come from people don’t go around shooting each other willy-nilly and it is most disconcerting for me.’
‘Please pick up the knife lady.’
She glanced quickly at Brandon’s shattered head and just as quickly looked away repulsed by what she saw.
‘Are you sure he’s dead?’
Zelletta’s patience was just about at an end and he was about to yell at her again. But somehow, he managed to control himself and speak in a normal and understanding voice.
‘Yes Miss Mellowday, he is definitely dead. I’d stake my life on it. In fact, I already did.’
She still looked uncertain but took a deep breath and reached down with tentative fingers until they were inches from the knife and the claw like fingers of the dead man. Then with an ear shattering squeal, she snatched up the knife and ran away from both Zelletta and his unwanted burden. Then stopped a few yards away and turned around to face them. She was shaking and breathing heavy but pleased with herself nonetheless.
‘Well done Miss Mellowday. Now if you would do me the honour of cutting me loose, I will be very grateful.’
‘Yes of course Mister Zelletta.’
She skirted the two men, giving them a wide birth as she made her way to the other side of the tree Zelletta was tethered to and finally, cut through the ropes that had held him prisoner for so long.
He still needed to wait for the blood to circulate and the numbness to go from his arms and hands, before he was finally, able to ease Brandon’s body off him.
‘I’ll get him out of sight so you don’t have to look at him Miss Mellowday,’ he said kindly. ‘I’m guessing it was you who fired that shot I heard down by the creek.’
‘Oh, my goodness,’ she cried. ‘I forgot that poor man. He is wounded and needs urgent attention.’
‘He ain’t dead?’
‘No. At least he wasn’t when I left him. It was him who urged me to kill this man and not to try and wound him.’
‘Thank god he did. If you had of only wounded him, I would probably be dead myself now. I’ll go take a look when I’ve moved Brandon out the way.’
‘I have to come with you, he told me he was going to die and asked me to say a prayer for him.’
‘How bad was he wounded.’
‘I shot him in the stomach the way you instructed me.’
He gazed at her with renewed admiration.
‘Miss Mellowday, I can honestly say, I have never in my entire life, met a woman as tough and ornery as you. Anybody would be honoured to ride the river with you.’
She looked up at him with a puzzled look on her face.
‘I swear I don’t know whether that is a compliment or an insult Mister Zelletta.’
‘Ma’am, if a man says you’d be good to ride the river with, you can be sure it’s one of the greatest compliments he can pay you.’
She blushed and then as he went to drag the body away, showed concern as he winced audibly when the wounds in his arm opened as the dead man’s weight stretched them.
‘Oh, Mister Zelletta!’ She exclaimed. ‘Your arms, you are injured.’
‘It ain’t nothin’ to be concerned about,’ he declared. ‘They’ll heal.’
He managed to painfully, drag the body away and after rifling the man’s pockets and finding quite a few dollars; concealed it in some undergrowth.
After that, she showed him where she’d left the other man and felt intense sadness to discover he was dead.
‘He couldn’t have been saved anyhow,’ commiserated the big man. ‘Gut-shot the way he was meant he would have been in a lot of pain, so dying was what he would have wanted if only to spare him any-more pain.’
‘We’d better bury him,’ she announced. ‘Then I’ll recite a prayer over the grave the way I promised.’
‘We?’ Asked Zelletta. ‘I ain’t burying a man who was going to kill me.’
‘But he helped me to save your life.’
‘He was looking out for himself Miss Mellowday. He was terrified he’d go straight to hell and was willing to get his pard killed so you’d pray for him to go to the other place.’
‘Heaven?’
‘Yeah, there.’
‘You are a very cynical man Mister Zelletta.’
‘That may be true ma’am but I’d never have my pard killed for the sake of a prayer.’
‘Well could we at least cover him over with something?’
‘Sure, if that’s what you want, but it won’t do much good once the vultures and coyote’s sniff him out.’
She gave him a look of condemnation but refused to censure him.
At least indulge me Mister Zelletta. That way I’ll feel a little less guilty.
He shook his head incredulously, but did not follow up.
‘I’ll go get a blanket from one of their hosses. We can cover him with that. If you gonna say a prayer over him, I suggest you do it while I’m gone.’
He turned and strode away before she had a chance to respond. When he returned with a blanket, he saw she was dabbing tears from her eyes with her shirt sleeve as she stood with her back to the body.
When he saw the tears in her big brown eyes his heart melted and he longed to take her in his arms to kiss away those salty tears and tell her everything was going to be alright. He reminded himself, she was a delicate young woman from the east who had never been confronted by the kind of provocation she’d been forced to endure these past few days. However, she had proved overtime, she was only delicate in her heart. In truth she had turned out to be a very capable young lady who, instead of falling to her knees to beg for mercy, had faced her adversaries head on and triumphed gloriously.
He covered the body with the blanket and placed rocks around the edges to hold it down.
‘That should hold him for a while,’ he said. ‘Come on, I think we both need a hot coffee.’
…
The sun had gone down a while ago and by then it was almost dark. The fire had died down to just a few embers but was soon blazing after Zelletta built it up with kindling. Then, while waiting for the water to boil, he went to the creek to remove the blood from his face and body and to wash his shirt.
When he returned, Beatrice had made coffee and was already sipping hers from a tin mug. He hung his shirt on a stake close to the fire and began to don a clean one. She surreptitiously glanced at his muscular form and was enormously impressed. Then she noticed the deep cuts on his upper arm that were still seeping blood.
‘Oh, mister Zelletta,’ she cried. ‘Your arms need serious attention those cut are deep and very severe.’
He looked at his arm and put off donning his shirt.
‘I’ll go and wash ‘em again in the crick.’
‘They need bandaging,’ she said. ‘Sit down and have some coffee while I find something to bind them with.’
She sounded very forceful and he promptly, sat down again.
‘I have a petticoat in my valise,’ she said. ‘If I tear it into strips, it should suffice as bandages.’
She brought back her petticoat and using the knife she had used to cut his bonds, cut it into strips.
‘Do you have any whiskey tucked away somewhere Mister Zelletta?’ she asked.
‘Ain’t coffee strong enough for you Miss Mellowday?’
‘I would never allow such a foul-tasting concoction to pass my lips Mister Zelletta as well you know. However, it has very good cleansing properties and may prevent infection.’
‘I’ll get it.’
‘No, stay where you are, I’ll get it. I presume it’s hidden away in one of your saddle bags.’
‘Yeah,’ don’t go taking a sneaky slug from the bottle while I ain’t looking.’
‘Your teasing isn’t remotely amusing Mister Zelletta.’
He grinned while she went to find the whiskey.
When she returned, she knelt on the ground beside him and began cleansing the wound with a whiskey-soaked piece of material and despite the intense stinging brought on by the whiskey, he felt as though he were in paradise feeling the touch of her small soft hand on his arm while she dabbed at the wounds with the other. Her face was so close, he could smell the freshness of her hair and the faint aroma of her cologne.
‘Your face is a mess Mister Zelletta,’ she said casually.
‘I know I ain’t the prettiest of men Miss Mellowday. But I don’t need you to point it out and there ain’t much I can do about it now.’
‘Oh no!’ She gasped. ‘I meant the swelling on your lips and cheeks, I didn’t mean…’
He was chuckling at her discomfort and she glared menacingly at him.
‘I know exactly what you meant Miss Mellowday.’
‘You have a very wicked way of embarrassing me Mister Zelletta and I do not find it in the least bit amusing.’
She tied off the bandages and scrutinised his face. Before gently touching his swollen and bruised cheek.
‘I see you found your hat,’ she remarked. ‘I really cannot see the point in you trying to hide your disfigurement when I have already seen it,’
It was his turn to squirm and he found himself unable to respond as she treated herself to a secret smile.
‘Why do you hide it Mister Zelletta?’
He struggled to find an answer. If he told her truthfully that he was afraid of her seeing his ugliness, she might begin to wonder why a man like him would be that bothered. How could he explain the need he felt from the moment he set eyes on her, to hide his ugliness from her beautiful eyes. How his show of impatience and brusqueness toward her, was borne of frustration that she’d never see him as someone to be desired. Instead, she’d simply perceive the beast he had become because those men tortured him as a young boy.
‘It’s bad enough being bigger than most with scars on my face,’ he growled. ‘Without adding to my grotesqueness by letting folks be revolted by a goddamned hole in my head.’
She clambered to her feet and stood before him. Even standing close to the sitting man, she wasn’t much taller than him.
‘May I? she asked.
She reached for the hat and gently removed it from his head. He wanted to prevent her from doing it but was rendered helpless to do so. Her mere presence and gentle authority, compelled him to remain immobile while she took his hat in her small hands and dropped it on the ground. Then he squirmed inwardly as she scrutinised the large indent in his forehead where his tormentors had botched a first attempt to scalp him. By the light of the flickering fire, it probably looked worse than it really was but even then, it didn’t look as bad as he clearly, thought it did.
‘I do believe you are over dramatizing your appearance Mister Zelletta. I would even go as far as to say, you are quite handsome in the right light.’
‘Please don’t patronise me Miss Mellowday. You no more find me handsome than you do that mule over there. I would rather you be truthful than treat me like a damned fool.’
‘I actually think that mule is quite good looking for an animal and for your information, you are a damned fool if you think a slight injury to your forehead and restricted growth of your hair is enough to turn you into a grotesque beast.’
He remained silent while he wrestled with his desire to believe her and what he considered to be the truth. Then she surprised him further by tracing her fingers around the wound on his forehead and along the scars on his face. He was shaking inside because of her nearness and the soft cool touch of her gentle fingers. Then, to his absolute astonishment, she stooped and kissed his forehead right where the indent was. Her soft lips lingered there and her breasts were almost touching his face, so close, he knew if he turned his eyes downward, he would see her cleavage down the open neck of her shirt. However, he remained staring at the smooth skin of her white throat as impulsively, he enfolded his arms around her waist and pulled her close. She did not protest and though she pulled away from kissing his forehead, she allowed him to hold her close and somehow, it felt natural they should embrace that way. He was unable to resist leaning in and kissing the hollow at the base of her throat and the smooth texture of her skin felt so soft and warm against his lips, that he felt certain the passion and desire he felt for her would surely explode his mind and drive him insane. He was suddenly, overcome by an overwhelming feeling that what was happening wasn’t real and he was having some kind of dream. He expected to wake up at any moment and be terribly disappointed to find all this hadn’t happened at all.
A small moan escaped her lips when he kissed her throat and she impetuously, enfolded her arms around his neck and allowed her head to loll back, exposing her throat even more, eliciting in him, a desire to explore further with his lips. He began kissing her neck just above the collarbone and she gasped audibly before speaking his name.
‘Oh, Mister Zelletta.’
His breathing had increased as had hers and she felt her heart thumping in her chest as he climbed to his knees so that his face was almost level with hers. Then he placed a big hand to the back of her head and brought her face close so they were gazing into each other’s eyes.
She waited, trembling all over as he scrutinised her pretty face, silently questioning if she would resist his advances. She allowed a smile to play across her lovely lips as she gazed back at him and as though they had been rehearsing for the moment from the day they met, their lips came together and they kissed for a long and passionate period of time. Then finally, as though given a silent signal, and still in a passionate embrace, they slowly changed position until they were lying side by side on the ground.
She pressed herself closer and clung on to him like a limpet and they stayed like that for many long moments with her head resting on the arm that was looped around her with his hand placed to the small of her slender back.
