Journey to Yesterday (22 page)

“Well, I’m impressed,” Shaye said, meaning it. “I never
could get the hang of it.”

And after trying a time or two, she had given up and bought
a bread machine. All the fresh-baked goodness with none of the fuss.

She glanced around the kitchen, amazed that anyone would eat
anything prepared there.

Calder cleared his throat. “It’s a mess, ain’t it?”

“Oh, no…”

“Sure it is. I tried to get the girls to do the cookin’,
maybe clean up in here a little, but hell,” he said, shrugging, “they work all
night.” He reached into a drawer and plucked out a book. “We had a cook for
awhile. She left this behind when she took off.”

It was a cookbook. There was no cover; the pages were
creased and torn.

Shaye glanced at the table of contents: Cowboy Muffins,
Irish Soda Bread, Johnny Cake, Lumpy Dick…she shook her head as she turned the
pages. She had to know what Lumpy Dick was. The recipe called for four cups of
milk, a half cup of butter and one cup of flour.

“Cut butter into flour (as for pie),” she read, “leaving
butter in pea size lumps. Bring the milk to a boil. Add butter and flour
mixture all at once. Reduce heat and cook until thick. Do not stir. Lumpy Dick
tastes best when the butter is left in lumps. Serve with cinnamon and sugar,
cream or milk.”

Somehow, it didn’t sound very appealing. She turned the
page, and found some Handy Household Hints, among them how to clean the keys of
a piano using alcohol, how to remove fly-specks from wood using water and skim
milk. She learned that hot sour milk would put a shine on silver, and that
lemon juice and salt would remove rust.

She closed the book and handed it back to Calder. “I’ll see
you at dinner.”

With a nod, he dropped the book back in the drawer.

Shaye went out into the main room. Alejandro was still
playing cards. He smiled at her as she approached the table.

“Hey,” one of the men said, “looks like old Calder finally
hired himself a new filly.”

“Watch your mouth, Dawson.” Alejandro said mildly.

“What’d I say?”

“She doesn’t work here.” Alejandro caught Shaye’s hand in
his. “She’s my woman. Got it?”

“Sure, sure,” Dawson muttered. “I didn’t mean nothing.”

Alejandro looked up at Shaye. “Wanna sit in, darlin’?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Damn right,” Dawson said. “We don’t need any women at the
table.”

Shaye glared at Dawson. He had shaggy dark-blond hair and
pale-brown eyes. Lines bracketed his mouth, making her think that a scowl was
his perpetual expression.

“I suppose you’re one of those macho jerks who think a
woman’s only place is in the kitchen or on her back in the bedroom!” She spoke
without thinking. There was complete silence at the table for a moment, then
Alejandro and the other man, who had been quiet until now, burst out laughing.

“That’s telling him, honey,” the man said. He patted the
chair beside him. “Come on, join us.”

“Thank you, Mr….?”

“Jim Hoffman,” he said.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Hoffman. I think I would like to
sit in,” Shaye said sweetly, “Thank you for asking.”

“Call me Jim.”

“Jim.” Ignoring Dawson’s scowl, she sat down.

Alejandro pushed half his stack of chips toward her, then
handed her the deck. “Deal for me, will ya, darlin’?” he asked with a wink. “My
arm’s getting sore.”

She smiled at him, knowing he was giving her a chance to
show off. And that’s just what she did. She shuffled the cards expertly, then
slid the deck in front of Dawson, who was sitting to her left. “Cut?”

Dawson cut the cards, and Shaye dealt the hand. She stared
at her cards in complete astonishment, unable to believe her eyes. Four jacks.
What were the odds?

“Cards, gentlemen?” she asked.

Alejandro took one, Hoffman took one, Dawson took three.

Alejandro tossed a twenty-dollar chip into the pot.

“Your twenty and five more,” Hoffman said.

Dawson scowled at Hoffman and raised it another ten.

Shaye met the last raise and raised it ten more.

Alejandro looked at her a moment, and raised it ten more.
Hoffman folded. Dawson raised it another ten.

“Five more,” Shaye said calmly, and tossed a chip into the
pot.

There was the faintest of smiles on Alejandro’s face as he
tossed his cards on the table.

“I call,” Dawson said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Shaye laid her cards on the table, one by one. Four Jacks,
and a trey.

Dawson stared at her cards, muttered a crude oath, and
slapped his cards down on the table.

“Looks like you won,” Hoffman mused.

“Looks like,” Shaye agreed. She raked in the pot, then
looked at Alejandro, who grinned at her.

“Guess that makes it my deal,” Hoffman said. Scooping up the
cards, he shuffled them, offered the cut to Shaye, and dealt the hand.

It was amazing, Shaye thought, how quickly the time passed.
One hour became two and then three. Dawson called for a whiskey, Alejandro and
Hoffman ordered a beer. Shaye didn’t really want a beer, but the only other
beverages Calder had to offer were water and goat’s milk, neither of which
sounded tempting, so she opted for a beer, too. Calder brought them some hard
boiled eggs and bread along with the drinks, and then decided to sit in for a
hand or two.

The chair creaked as Calder lowered his bulk onto it. The
chair must have been a lot sturdier than it looked, she decided, since it
didn’t shatter under his considerable weight.

Calder was a talker. He told them about his Army days, when
he had been in the Seventh Cavalry. “Rode with old George Armstrong Custer
hisself, I did.” He picked up his cards, studied them a moment, and tossed a
twenty-dollar chip into the pot.

“Custer!” Shaye exclaimed. “Really?”

“Sure ‘nuff. I was with Reno’s command at the Little Big
Horn. That was some fight, I can tell you. I never thought any of us would get
out alive.”

Alejandro sat forward, his dark eyes alight with interest.
“Go on,” he said. “Start at the beginning.”

Calder dragged a hand across his jaw. “Old Custer, he was in
an itching hurry to meet the Sioux. He’d testified in a government
investigation about some scandal that involved President Grant’s brother, and
Grant declared Custer wouldn’t be allowed to accompany his troops. Custer
begged Grant to reconsider, and the president allowed as how Custer could go in
command of his own regiment, instead of commanding the entire column. I reckon
Custer figured a major victory would be a right good thing about then.

“He never believed there were as many Injuns as his own
scouts claimed there was, and when we was about fifteen miles from where the
village was s’posed to be, Custer sent Benteen and his men off in one direction
and Reno in another. That was the last we saw of Custer and his men.”

Calder shook his head. “The battle might have turned out
differently if Custer hadn’t split his command, and if Reno hadn’t retreated,
but then again…” He shrugged. “We was badly outnumbered. If we’d stayed with Custer,
I reckon as how we would have all been killed.”

Alejandro sat back, his expression thoughtful. Shaye knew
what he was thinking as clearly as if he had said it out loud. If he had stayed
with his mother’s people, he would have been at the Little Big Horn.

Alejandro rose abruptly, reaching for her hand. “Let’s go
outside. I need to stretch my legs.”

“You’re not sorry you missed the battle, are you?” Shaye
asked as they left the building.

“Not as sorry as I used to be,” he said with a wry grin.

“Men! I’ve never understood their fascination for war and
fighting.”

“It’s a way for a man to prove his courage.”

“It’s a good way to get killed.”

“There are worse things than death.”

“Maybe,” she said, but at the moment, she couldn’t think of
any, couldn’t think of anything but Alejandro, the brush of his thigh against
hers, the warmth of his hand. She looked up at him, trying to imagine how he
would look in a loincloth and moccasins, with a feather in his long black hair
and his face painted for war.

He looked down at her, his gaze meeting hers. He arched one
brow. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Is that right? Looks like something to me.”

“I was just trying to picture how you’d look…” She lifted
one hand and let it fall. “How you’d look in a loincloth and feathers.”

“Well, darlin’,” he said with a wink, “someday I’ll show
you.”

As Calder had predicted, the men loved her French toast,
loved it so much she’d been afraid she was going to have to spend the rest of
the night cooking it. Most of them had four slices, some five, Calder had six,
not to mention the bacon and coffee that went with it. By the time she finished
up, she didn’t think she would ever be able to look at another piece of French
toast as long as she lived.

She left the dishes for Calder. She had done the cooking,
she thought as she carried their plates into the kitchen, he could do the
cleaning up. Besides, she couldn’t worry about anything as mundane as dirty
dishes now. She was getting married!

She was getting married. The inside of a dilapidated cabin
wasn’t exactly the setting most brides dreamed of, but it didn’t matter. Shaye
saw nothing but the man standing beside her. And if she was dressed in cotton
instead of white satin, well, that didn’t matter, either. She had worn white to
her last wedding, she thought ruefully, and look how it had turned out. Maybe
black would bring her luck.

She stood beside Alejandro, her hand tightly clasped in his,
while Jack Calder read the words that changed her name from Shaye Elizabeth Montgomery
to Mrs. Alejandro Valverde. It took only minutes, but the instant she said, “I
do”, she knew, deep in her heart, that her whole life had been irrevocably
changed.

Calder smiled at them expansively, then winked at Alejandro.
“You can kiss the bride now.”

“My pleasure,” Alejandro murmured, and drawing Shaye into
his arms, he kissed her, long and deep, the kiss more binding than any of the
words that had been said.

She was breathless when he took his mouth from hers.

“That’ll be ten bucks,” Calder said, punching Alejandro on
the shoulder.

“Best money I ever spent.” Alejandro slapped a couple of
greenbacks in Calder’s hand. “Now, get the hell out of here.”

“Not ‘til I’ve kissed the bride,” Calder said. Placing his
hands on Shaye’s shoulders, he kissed her soundly on both cheeks. Then,
whistling softly, he left the cabin.

Shaye grinned up at Alejandro. “Alone at last, Mr.
Valverde.”

He grinned back at her. “And what would you like to do, now
that we’re alone, Mrs. Valverde?”

“Gee, I don’t know.”

“Maybe I could help you think of something.”

“Like what?”

“Well, darlin’,” he drawled, “if I kissed you here…” He
kissed her forehead. “Maybe you’d ask me to kiss you here…” He kissed the tip
of her nose. “And if you liked that, maybe you’d ask me to kiss you here…” He
kissed her cheeks, first one, then the other. “And if you liked that…”

“I’d ask you to kiss me here.” Shaye cupped his face in her
hands and pressed her lips to his. Honey and fire flowed through her veins,
warming her, engulfing her as he wrapped her in his arms and deepened the kiss
until they were both breathless.

“Oh, darlin’,” he murmured, “do you know what you do to me?”

She slid her hands under his shirt, wanting to feel the heat
of his skin. “Show me.”

“My pleasure, Mrs. Valverde.”

His clever hands quickly removed her clothing and shoes, his
lips brushing across her shoulders, her breasts, her belly. She giggled when he
kissed her knees. Grinning, he began to tickle her, until she fell back on the
bed. He sank down on top of her, but she pushed him away.

“Oh, no,” she said, “you’re way overdressed.” And so saying,
she removed his coat and began to unbutton his shirt.

Alejandro fell back, his gaze hot as he watched her. She
tossed his shirt aside, tugged off his boots, yanked off his socks. He lifted
his hips so she could pull off his trousers, wriggled out of his drawers.

And then there was nothing between them but heated flesh and
a urgent desire that could not be ignored.

Alejandro wrapped her in his arms and she clung to him with
a wild desperation born of a yearning too long denied and the knowledge that
what they had found could be lost in a heartbeat.

He caressed her with hands that trembled, kissed her
fervently, hotly. They writhed on the bed, time and place melting away, until
nothing mattered but the two of them and the love they had one for another.

She ran her hands over his back, his shoulders, his chest,
down his thighs until he rose over her, his eyes smoldering with passion. She
was ready for him, more than ready. She moaned softly, an utterly feminine
sound of pleasure as he sank into her, filling her, filling the hollows of her
heart as his body merged with hers, uniting them, completing them.

Her hands moved over his back, her nails lightly raking his
skin, as he moved deep within her, deeper, harder, faster, until the explosion
came, a white heat that shimmered through her, engulfing her, pleasuring her,
until she thought she might die of the joy that filled her heart and soul. And
when his release came and he convulsed deep within her, she knew a sense of
satisfaction and completion she had dreamed of but never believed truly
existed.

With a kiss and a sigh, Alejandro rolled onto his side,
carrying Shaye with him, his body still part of hers, his arms holding her
tight. He had made love to women before but it had never been like this. Damn,
she had satisfied him like no other, filled an aching emptiness in his heart
and soul he had never known was there until he felt her warmth seep into him,
chasing away the dark. His woman. His bride. His wife.

He still couldn’t believe she had accepted his proposal.
They had known each other such a short time, yet it seemed as if he had been
waiting for her all his life, as if his soul had always been searching for
hers. And suddenly, it didn’t seem so farfetched to believe that his ghost had
traveled down the long misty corridors of time and seen her standing outside a
lonely jail cell.

* * * * *

Shaye woke slowly, aware of a weight across her stomach, a
warmth against her back. It was still dark outside, but she was suddenly wide
awake. Smiling, she rolled over, her finger tracing the stubbled outline of her
husband’s jaw. Husband. What a beautiful word!

She ran her fingertips over his lips, remembering how he had
kissed her only hours before, his mouth hot and hungry on hers.

Her hand moved over his chest, slid down his stomach, which
was hard and flat and ridged with muscle. He was in remarkably good shape for a
man who earned his living playing poker, she mused. If she didn’t know better,
she would swear he spent his days pumping iron at the gym.

Her hand slid lower, lower, delighting in the warmth of his
skin, taking pure feminine pleasure in his nearness, in touching him, while he
slept.

She shrieked as she suddenly found herself flat on her back,
looking up at him, though she couldn’t see his face. “Didn’t your mother ever
warn you about awakening sleeping tigers?” he growled.

She shook her head, her eyes filled with laughter. “Are you
going to eat me now, Mr. Tiger?”

“Most definitely,” he said. “From the top to bottom, and
back up again.”

And that was exactly what he did.

Twice.

* * * * *

In the morning, she woke wrapped in his arms, a smile on her
face.

“Mornin’, darlin’,” he drawled. “About time you woke up.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You were smiling so pretty, I didn’t want to disturb you,
in case you were dreaming about me.”

“Oh, I was.”

“Want to tell me about it?”

“No.”

“No?”

She smiled seductively. “I’d rather show you.”

It was much later when they left the cabin and went to the
saloon in search of food.

Calder grinned at them as they approached the bar. “Well,
well, looks like I won the bet.”

“What bet?” Alejandro asked.

“We had us a bet going about how long it would be afore you
two come up for air. I said not before two o’clock, and I was right.”

“I’m happy for you,” Alejandro said drily. “You got anything
to eat?”

“I reckon I can rustle up something, if you ain’t too
fussy.” He grinned at Shaye. “I don’t reckon your missus will want to cook,
seein’ as how it’s your honeymoon and all.”

“You got any coffee?” Alejandro asked.

“Sure. You want a cup, Mrs. Valverde?”

Shaye smiled. Mrs. Valverde. She loved the sound of it.
“Yes, thank you.”

Calder grunted softly. “Coming right up.”

Shaye and Alejandro took a seat at a corner table. She couldn’t
stop looking at him. Her husband. Last night had been the most incredible night
of her life. Now she knew why so many songs were written about love, why poets
extolled it, why Juliet couldn’t live without Romeo, why the Prince had been
able to awaken Sleeping Beauty with just a kiss… Her gaze moved to Alejandro’s
mouth, remembering how his kisses had aroused her…

Alejandro lifted one brow. “You keep looking at me like
that, darlin’, and I’m gonna take you right here, on the table.”

“Promise?”

Alejandro threw back his head and laughed. He was still
laughing when Calder arrived with their coffee. “Ham and eggs okay for you
two?”

“Sure,” Alejandro said. “And plenty of it.” He winked at
Shaye. “I’ve got to keep my strength up.”

Calder laughed out loud as he lumbered into the kitchen.

“When are we leaving here?” Shaye asked.

“You in a hurry?”

“Well, I was thinking how nice it would be to check into a
ritzy hotel in San Francisco. We could get a suite and lock ourselves in.”

“Go on.”

“And we wouldn’t have to go out for days and days.”

“Not even to eat?”

Shaye leaned forward, trailing kisses down the line of his
cheek to his chin. “Haven’t you ever heard of room service?”

Alejandro grinned at her. “Sure, but I’ve never tried it.”

“You’ll love it, I promise.”

“I’d love a cave, if you were in it,” he said, “but that
fancy hotel sounds expensive. I think I’d better see if I can’t win a few
dollars before we settle down to a life of decadence.”

They spent the rest of the day in their cabin, making love,
sleeping, talking, and making love again.

At dusk, they went back to the saloon for dinner. There were
cheers and catcalls as they sat down at one of the tables. Shaye couldn’t help
it, she blushed from the soles of her feet to the roots of her hair,
disconcerted by the knowledge that every man in the room knew what she’d been
doing for the last two days. Alejandro, she noted, was grinning from ear to
ear.

After dinner, she went into the kitchen to ask Calder if she
could borrow a large pan so she could wash their clothes. Calder told her to
help herself to whatever she needed. Thanking him, she left the kitchen.
Tonight, before going to bed, she would wash Alejandro’s shirt and socks, her
blouse and her underwear. His trousers and her skirt would have to wait, she
decided, since she wasn’t sure the heavy material would dry overnight.

Returning to the main room, she found Alejandro playing
poker with three other men.

He drew her down onto his lap, one arm slipping around her
waist.

“Are you winning?” she asked.

He looked offended. “What do you think, darlin’?”

“You gonna sweet talk your woman, or deal the cards?”

“Hello, Dawson,” Shaye said with a grin.

“You’re not gonna sit in again, are you?” he asked
irritably.

“Afraid I’ll bring you bad luck?”

“Damn right.”

“Don’t pay any attention to him, darlin’,” Alejandro said.

“Why don’t you sit this hand out?” she asked, “and dance
with me, instead.”

“Deal me out, Saunders,” Alejandro said. He grinned at Shaye
as the piano player hit a sour note. “He plays the way I dance.”

“Baloney,” she said, standing. “You dance divinely.”

“Divinely?” Alejandro said. “Well, well.”

Taking her hand, he led her to a small, clear area on the
far side of the bar. The doves, Shaye noted, were also dancing. Several men
were lined up at the end of the bar, waiting their turn. Seeing the two heavily
painted girls brought Daisy to mind. She wished she could have done something
to prevent Daisy’s death. What a horrible life she’d had, and then to have it
end so young, and so horribly. It was such a waste.

They had been dancing for several minutes when one of the
men tried to cut in on Alejandro.

“The lady’s with me,” he said.

“Hell, man, it won’t hurt you to share. All’s I want is just
one dance. Just one little dance with this pretty lady.”

“Forget it. You’re drunk.” Alejandro looked at Shaye and
smiled. “And this lady is my wife.”

“Drunk? Who? Me?” He waved his hands in the air. “Nah, I
ain’t drunk. I just feel like dancin’.”

“Dance with someone else.”

“Lousy ‘breed.”

The man muttered the words under his breath, but not so low
that Alejandro didn’t hear them. Shaye felt the sudden tension flow through his
arm.

“What did you say?” He bit off each word, his tone low and
deadly.

The atmosphere in the room grew still, like the quiet before
a storm.

The man looked at Alejandro and blinked like someone just
waking and realizing he was in danger. “I…I didn’t mean anything by it,” he
mumbled.

Shaye tugged on Alejandro’s arm. “Rio, let’s go.”

He looked down at her, his eyes dark and dangerous.

“Please, let’s go.”

Slowly, the tension drained out of him. Taking her hand
firmly in his, they left the building.

They kept to themselves for the next few days, only leaving
the cabin for their meals. Shaye told Alejandro of her childhood, and how she
had always wished she had brothers and sisters, how she had always envied her
friend, Leslie, who came from a large family. She told him how she had always
loved to read, and had devoured the Black Stallion books, and Lad, a Dog, and
Nancy Drew, how she had secretly wished to be an actress, but was too shy to
try out for the drama club.

In return, Alejandro told her how he had dreamed of being a
warrior, and how disappointed he had been when he went back to his mother’s
people, only to find that those he knew were gone, and that, as much as he
wished it, he no longer had a place there.

She admitted she was afraid of the dark.

He told her he had always been afraid of dying alone.

She confessed that she was a chocoholic and an incurable
romantic.

He admitted there were two things he couldn’t live without.
“A cup of black coffee, first thing in the morning,” he said. “And you.” He
tapped the end of her nose with his forefinger.