Spirit's Song (10 page)

Desire stirred within him, making him shift uncomfortably on the hard ground. It had been a long time since he’d had a woman. He watched her as she sipped the last of the broth from the cup, noticing the slender curve of her throat, the softly rounded feminine shape of her, and wondered how he had ever thought her too skinny.

He wondered again where she had come from and how she had come to be with the Cheyenne. He could easily imagine her living in a big house, with an army of servants to answer her every need. She didn’t belong out here, in the wilderness.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he realized that she would never really be his. He could take her by force, now, if he was of a mind to, but he would not have what he really wanted.

When they reached Red Creek, he would let her go. He could always buy a woman to ease his desire. In the past, Lula had satisfied his needs…

With stunning force, he realized he wanted more than mere physical satisfaction from this woman. He wanted her to look at him with adoring eyes instead of eyes filled with fear and revulsion. He wanted her to caress him with hands of love instead of hands of mercy and pity. He wanted her to kiss him willingly, with passion, instead of mocking him with contempt. He wanted all this and more, but he would never have it. She was as out of his reach as the stars that filled the night sky, as unattainable as the moon.

And like a child crying for the moon, he knew she would never be his.

Sinking back on the blanket, he closed his eyes. She would never be his, he thought ruefully, but he could dream.

Chapter Fifteen

They stayed where they were until the food ran out and the seep went dry. The rest had done Jesse good, and while his arm was still tender, he felt stronger than he had in days.

Now he stood near the roan’s head, idly scratching the mare’s ears, while Mao’hoohe gathered their meager supplies and saddled the roan. He had asked her again what her white name was, but she had refused to tell him, making him wonder if she had something to hide, or if she was just plain stubborn. The Cheyenne believed a man’s name held power, and he wondered if she felt that way, felt that, by giving him her name, he would have some kind of power over her. Maybe she was more Cheyenne than she knew.

When all was ready, he climbed into the saddle. His shoulder was still sore, but it was on the mend. Reaching down, he pulled the woman up behind him, then clucked to the mare.

If they rode hard, they could be in Red Creek sometime tomorrow afternoon. It wasn’t much of a town, but they would be able to pick up some supplies and a change of clothes. He was pretty sure Mao’hoohe would enjoy a long soak in a hot bath. He knew he would. He enjoyed a fleeting image of the woman reclining in a tub of hot water, her hair falling over her shoulders, her skin rosy, before he pushed it from his mind.

But he couldn’t ignore the reality of the woman riding behind him, or the touch of her hands at his waist, or the heat of her breasts pressing against his back.

Desire stirred within him, and he swore under his breath. As soon as they reached Red Creek, he was going to have a hot bath, a hot meal, and a hot woman, in that order.

Kaylynn frowned as she heard Yellow Thunder curse softly.

“What’s wrong?” She glanced around anxiously, wondering if he had seen some cause for alarm. But there was only blue sky and waving prairie grass as far as she could see.

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure? You sound kind of…I don’t know. Upset.”

“I’m fine.”

Put off by his curt tone, she lapsed into silence again. Men. There was no understanding any of them.

Lulled by the rocking motion of the horse and the warmth of the sun, she dozed fitfully.

Jesse laid his hand over Kaylynn’s as he felt her slump against his back. He had been so determined never to let himself care for another woman, and then she had come along, with her big brown eyes and her pouty pink lips. He had known from the first moment he’d seen her that she was going to be nothing but trouble. Big trouble, and yet he had been unable to resist her. He had gambled everything he’d had with him to win her in that damn race, and then hadn’t had the guts to take what he wanted. He looked down at their hands: his big and brown and shaped by violence; hers, small and delicate in spite of her calloused palms. He wondered what had put the fear in her eyes. He had seen it several times, a fear that went deeper than just being afraid of him. Mulling it over, he wasn’t sure it was him she was really afraid of, but she was afraid of something. He had seen fear enough to know it when he saw it.

* * * * *

They arrived in Red Creek early the following afternoon. The town rose from the prairie like a row of children’s blocks. Rough buildings of varying sizes lined a wide, dusty street.

Jesse was familiar with the town and most of the inhabitants. It was a regular stopping-off point for him when he was in the territory. There was no law here, and he had found more than one bounty hiding out in the saloons that made up the bulk of the town’s establishments.

He glanced over his shoulder at Mao’hoohe. She was staring at the town, a look of disbelief in her eyes.

Jesse chuckled softly. “Not much of a place, is it?”

Kaylynn shook her head. When Jesse had mentioned a town, she had imagined a city like San Francisco, or maybe Boston. But this…she had never seen such a collection of shoddy-looking buildings in her life. There were only about a dozen or so ramshackle buildings, and more than half of them appeared to be saloons. She read the names as they rode by: The Dirty Shame. Lady Ace. The Four Queens. The Lucky Deuce.

“Do we have to stop here?” she asked.

“’Fraid so.”

She glanced up at the balcony of the Lady Luck. A young woman with dyed red hair and ruby-red lips was leaning over the rail. She wore a gaudy red-and-black silk wrapper that gaped open to reveal the tops of her ample breasts. Her eyes were outlined with kohl.

The woman leaned farther over the railing. “Hey, Thunder!” she called, waving. “Hey!”

Reining the mare to a halt, Jesse turned his head and looked up at the woman on the balcony.

Kaylynn saw him smile.

“I’ve been missing you, Big Indian,” the woman called with a salacious grin. “’Bout time you got back here.”

Jesse winked at her. “How’s it going, Lula?”

“Better, now that you’re here.” The woman glanced at Kaylynn and frowned. “Don’t tell me you brought your own girl this time.”

“No.”

“Good. I’ve got enough competition.” The woman smiled again, revealing a dimple in her left cheek. “Will I see you later?”

Jesse nodded, acutely aware of the fact that Kaylynn was listening intently to every word.

Kaylynn glanced over her shoulder as Jesse clucked to the mare. “Is she a…you know?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that a sporting house?”

Jesse cleared his throat, not liking where the conversation seemed to be headed. “Yeah.”

There was a moment of silence. He could almost hear the wheels turning in Kaylynn’s head.

“What’s it like? Inside.”

“Most of ’em are a lot fancier than that one. Carved furniture, red velvet drapes, rugs on the floor, mirrors. Good whiskey, honest gambling.”

“How does it work?”

“What?”

“When a man wants a woman…does he just…just take his pick?”

Jesse cleared his throat. “Are you sure you want to be talking about this?”

Kaylynn nodded. “Yes.” Like most women, she had always been curious about how her fallen sisters plied their trade, always wondered what really went on in those places men whispered about.

“Well,” Jesse said, “the first floor in a fancy house is usually a saloon. A man can get a drink there, or spend a few hours gambling or dancing with a pretty girl.” He paused, hoping she’d be satisfied with that.

“Go on. How do you decide which…ah…girl you want?”

“When a man’s ready to go upstairs, whatever girls are available line up.” Jesse swore under his breath. “When a man makes up his mind, he pays the madam and then he takes the…the lady of his choice upstairs.”

“I see.” Kaylynn thought a moment. “What does it cost?”

“You planning on going into business?”

“Of course not!” she exclaimed, glad she was sitting behind him so he couldn’t see her flaming cheeks.

Jesse chuckled. “The standard fee in a fancy house is ten dollars; overnight is thirty.” In most places, the madam took half of the girl’s fee, and then charged an additional five or ten dollars for room and board.

And then there were the cribs, but Jesse didn’t think Kaylynn needed to hear about those. They were little more than one room made of rough lumber with a tin roof and the girl’s name on the door. Cribs were rented to the girls for two or three dollars a day, payable in advance. There was no bonded bourbon here, no soft bed. Usually, a man just removed his hat. The fee for a Chinese girl was two bits, a Mexican was four bits, a French tart was six bits.

He remembered seeing one sign that had read: “Big Minnie Faye. Two hundred pounds of passion. Fifty cents each. Three for a dollar.”

Jesse had never visited one of the cribs, but he had, on occasion, visited Lula. He breathed a sigh of relief when no more questions were forthcoming.

“That…that girl on the balcony. She knew you.”

He didn’t miss the curiosity, or the accusation, in Kaylynn’s voice.

Jesse cleared his throat. “Yeah. We’re…old friends.”

“Friends?”

Jesse reined the mare to a halt in front of the hotel. Swinging his right leg over the mare’s neck, he dropped to the ground, then reached up and helped Kaylynn dismount.

He could feel her watching him while he tethered the roan to the hitch rack, obviously waiting for him to explain his relationship with Lula.

Jesse removed the saddlebags from behind the cantle, slid the rifle from the boot, then climbed the stairs to the hotel and stepped inside. Kaylynn followed close behind him.

The lobby was dimly lit. Going to the reception desk, Jesse dropped his saddlebags on the floor, then rang the bell. A few moments later, a man with a pencil-thin mustache emerged from the office behind the counter.

“Can I help you?”

“I need two rooms. One with a bath.”

The clerk grunted as he opened a register and slid it toward Jesse. “Rooms are a dollar a day. Two bits for the bath.”

Jesse nodded. “Send up some hot water right away.”

“Sure.” The clerk glanced at the register. “Mr. Thunder.”

“Where’s Abe?” Jesse asked.

“Got hisself killed last week.”

“You the new owner?”

“That’s right.”

“I’d like someone to look after my horse.”

“I’ll take care of it. How long will you be staying?”

Jesse glanced at Kaylynn. “I’m not sure. A day or two. See that my horse gets a good rubdown, will you, and a quart of oats.”

With a nod, the clerk plucked two keys from the board behind the desk. “Rooms 201 and 203, adjoining.”

Jesse draped his saddlebags over his shoulder, then reached for the keys. “Obliged. Which one has the tub?”

“Room 201.”

“Obliged.”

Kaylynn followed Jesse up the narrow stairway. She couldn’t believe he was paying a dollar a day to stay in a place like this. Old Mo’e’ha’s lodge had been cleaner, and smelled better.

Jesse stopped in front of Room 201 and opened the door. “Home, sweet home.”

Kaylynn stepped inside. It was a small whitewashed room, with a narrow iron bedstead covered by a multicolored quilt. There was a small window, a three-drawer chest and a straight-backed chair.

“About that girl…” She hadn’t meant to ask him again, but the words slipped out.

“Let me know when you get done with your bath,” Jesse said, quickly changing the subject. “I’ll be wanting to use the water.”

Kaylynn nodded. It was obvious he wasn’t going to tell her what she wanted to know. And maybe she didn’t really want to know, anyway.

“After we get cleaned up, we’ll go down and get something to eat. Tomorrow, we’ll see about getting you some new clothes.”

She nodded again, uncomfortable at the thought of spending the night alone. From outside came the sound of a gunshot, the tinny, off-key notes of a piano, the raucous laughter of a saloon girl.

“I’ll be right next door,” Yellow Thunder said. “Holler if you need me.”

She nodded again, somewhat reassured by the knowledge that he would be nearby.

Closing the door, she glanced around the room. A flimsy Chinese screen painted with dragons and water lilies hid a cheap zinc bathtub.

For a moment, she closed her eyes. It was only temporary. She would be home soon, in her own room. She would wear nice clothes and bathe in scented water in an enamel tub, and she would never ever have to ride a horse or eat buffalo meat or see Jesse Yellow Thunder again.

For some reason, the thought made her feel like crying.

* * * * *

Jesse dropped his saddlebags on the floor near the highboy, laid the rifle across the arms of the chair beside the bed, then went to stand at the window. Maybe, instead of taking seconds on Kaylynn’s bath water, he’d go over to the saloon and have a good long soak in the pretty enameled tub Lula had ordered from St. Louis. She would scrub him from head to foot, wash and trim his hair, massage the soreness from his back and ease his other longing, too.

He turned away from the window and took three strides toward the door, then paused. He couldn’t let Mao’hoohe wander around alone. He doubted the town of Red Creek had ever seen a decent woman.

With a sigh, he removed his gunbelt and holster and hung it over the bedpost. One of the first things he needed to do was see about buying some ammunition to replace what had been stolen by Ravenhawk.

Stripping off his blood-stained shirt, boots and thick wool socks, he tossed them in a corner, then stretched out on the bed. There would be time enough to see Lula later, once Mao’hoohe was bedded down for the night.

He closed his eyes, his thoughts drifting toward Ravenhawk. He was certain the man wouldn’t come here. Would he head for Twin Bluffs, and if so, how long would he stay?

He heard the door next door open, heard the muffled sound of voices as a couple of hired boys began to fill the tub. Thoughts of Ravenhawk slipped from his mind, and he found himself thinking of the woman again, imagined her shrugging out of her travel-stained tunic and moccasins, stepping into the tub, sighing as the hot water closed over her.