Echoes of the Heart (52 page)

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Authors: Carole Webb

BOOK: Echoes of the Heart
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The
articles read like a book of horror about the atrocities leveled on a race too
small in number to survive the onslaught of thousands of soldiers and she felt
gratitude and pride for Cash and his selfless struggle against seemingly
insurmountable odds.

           
Even
New York’s own Commissioner of Indian Affairs spoke out in print as well as
public forums regarding the plight of the Indians and fought to help them
whenever he found a sympathetic ear.

           
Perhaps
she had misconceived her dark-haired knight striking out with the sword of
righteousness.
 
It made her feel small.

           
Setting
the book aside, she laid her head on a pillow and let her mind drift into past
memories and recalled Cash’s valiant efforts to save her life unselfishly
risking his own.

           
He
had trudged through a blizzard tearing at life, freezing particles of glass
severing every thread of one’s will.
 
He
had breathed the warm breath of life into her near frozen body.
 
He amazed her.

When she lay naked
on the prairie, begging for a merciful end to her life, she had never really
showed her gratitude, he had pulled her from the grip of death at the hands of
two monsters.
 
She was ashamed now at how
she’d repaid him.

           
She
had written to Diane asking about the new scar on his leg he so casually
snubbed as a scratch, and learned the wound had almost killed him.
 
He had avenged her honor and helped to put
her demons to rest.

           
What
woman would not want a man like him, handsome and courageous, strong and noble
along with the tender loving side of his nature that would make him a good
husband and father?

           
She
had seen Sally’s struggles to raise children by herself and she mentioned on
more than one occasion how they missed their father. Between her job and caring
for offspring, Sally did not have the time or the energy to seek another
husband and father for her children.

           
Raeden’s
maternal instinct to have a good provider and protector for her and her baby
gave her cause to reconsider the actual importance of her pursuit for fame and
monetary success.

           
Moreover,
she truly loved him almost beyond reason and constantly yearned to have him
close.

           
What
could she say about her change of heart to make him feel toward her the way he
once had?
 
Crushed in a quarry of need
and desire, she cast her pride aside and moved to her desk to compose a letter.
 
In all fairness to Cash and their baby, she
must tell him he would be a father the end of September and let him decide.

           
She
would brave his wrath but the fear of rejection made her hands tremble while
she put her feelings to paper, swallowing her pride.

My
dearest Cash,

           
I sincerely hope this finds you well
and happy in your new career, but missing me as I do you.

           
The success I have achieved will
never compensate for the love we once shared and I must apologize for my
abhorrent behavior and cruelty after all you have done for me in the past.

           
My worst transgression is not
informing you we are going to have a baby.
 
He or she is due in September and will need a father, as I am sure you
will agree.

           
I cannot begin to tell you how
difficult it is to write this letter so please don’t judge me too harshly and
do not make me beg.
 
I would like to be
your wife, if you will still have me and I will anxiously await your reply.

All
my love now and always,

Raeden

Droplets streamed
down her cheeks and she moved the paper.
 
She would not send a tear-stained letter.
 
It would be
too
much.
 
She did not want
his pity, only his love.

She didn’t know if
she could, in fact, post the message but writing it down brought some relief
from the turmoil festering inside, feeding on her pride and resolve.

           
Task
completed, she tumbled back into bed and placed her hands over the mound
beneath her navel surprised at the degree of movement such a tiny being could
generate.

 

Fifty-six

 
 

           
“Hello
Diane, how is business?”

           
Cash’s
chiseled features faced her across the room and he definitely carried a
different presence since putting his old ghosts to rest.

           
“Hi,
Cash.
 
You sure look fit and
relaxed.
 
Guess ranching again suits
you.”
 
She stepped from behind the
counter and gave him a hug.

           
“It
feels good to be back at the ranch again.
 
I should do well since my Herefords outweigh a Longhorn by sixty
percent.”

           
His
lean handsome body, a silhouette in the sunlight reflecting from windows, stood
tall, feet planted slightly apart with thumbs tucked into the belt of his
well-worn jeans.
 
The aroma of soap and
tobacco lingered around him.

           
“That’s
wonderful, Cash.
 
When does the new
session begin in Washington?”

           
“Not
until December.
 
It gives me some time
off after the cattle go to market in September.”
 
He stepped forward, pulled the hat from his
head and held it in both hands in front of his chest.
 
Long lashes shaded his pupils while he rolled
the brim of the hat around with his fingers.
 
“Have you heard from Rae lately?
 
Is everything okay?”

           
She
always felt for the couple knowing how much they really cared for each other
and had been thinking for some time how she might interfere in the lives of two
people she knew destined to be together, whether they realized it or not.

 
          
“She’s
doing just fine, lucrative contracts coming in regularly, even planning a trip
to Paris in a couple of weeks.
 
Raeden
has always wanted to go to Paris.
 
She
might even live there if she finds it to her liking.”
 
A crooked grin teased her lips.
     

           
Cash’s
eyes spread wide, his brow lifted, and he paused a moment before speaking
again.
 
His tone stayed level while his
eyes slanted.
 
A flicker flashed across
dark embers waiting to ignite.
 
“That’s
great.
 
She must be excited.
 
Rae has worked hard to achieve success.”

           
“Let
me get you the address in New York… in case you would like to write and to say
good-bye.”

           
Diane
casually walked into her office and took her time writing the note.
 
When she walked in with the address, he
snatched the paper out of her hand, stuffing it into his left shirt pocket then
replaced his hat pulling it forward to exit.
 
“I’ll see you later.
 
Tell Mike,”
his face steeled as he turned. “I said hello.”
 

           
Diane
called after the hastily retreating figure.
 
“Sure thing.”
  

           
His
boots hit hard as he picked up speed.
 
Diane smiled and spun to return to her office with a spring in her step.

 

***

           

Cash sped to the
depot and purchased a ticket for the following day knowing if he did not get to
Raeden soon, he could possibly lose her forever.
 
He couldn’t just let her slip away without
trying.
  
She was loved by everyone who
knew her, and was a prize any man would cherish with pride.
 

She had been
instrumental in his realization he could at last become the man he had wanted
to be.
 
For such awareness, he would
always be indebted to Raeden however; his life would never be complete without
her.

           
More
than he ever thought possible, he craved—no required—that woman.
 
Damn his pride.
 
He would go after her and convince her they
had to work out their differences.

           
What
if she did not love him after all?
 
Could
he accept such a blow?
    

           
An
ache began to rage in his temples, pounding metal to metal, rasping across
nerves undermining his reason by the time he arrived home to busy himself
repairing the roof on the barn. At dusk, he sank into a tub of steamy hot water
to bathe and relieve the tension before climbing into the new bed he had
purchased to lay wide-awake most of the night dwelling on the situation facing
him.

           
After
a few restless hours of sleep, he packed his leather Gladstone with the
essentials required for the train ride to New York City then ate breakfast
before riding to the station dressed in blue jeans and a crisp white linen
shirt.

 

Fifty-seven

 
 

           
The
trip to New York seemed like torture, cooped up with thoughts of his wife.
 
He had brought the legal papers along to sign
if one last attempt at a resolution failed.
 
She had been out of his life for months but in his mind constantly.
 
He had come to realize his overbearing
demands and pride had driven her from him.
 
Knowing the risk of taking the first step, but it would be the only way
to rekindle the spark of love they had shared at one time.

           
The
ride did not take forever but he felt it had, going over in his mind what he
could say to not make her defensive and lash out.
 
With no real conclusions, he entered Central
Station ready to make peace.

 
He recalled the discussion of plans for a
Grand Central Station to replace the depot now standing and he would make an
investment in city bonds when the time came to build.

Standing straight
and tall, he exited the stateroom with the Gladstone hefted over one shoulder
and stepped onto the platform in clean western attire looking at the New York
City skyline through a clear spring day.

           
He
had been to the city on many occasions while attending Yale in New Haven at his
parents’ insistence.
 
A lot had changed
since his last visit but the Georgian Architecture and French Renaissance
structure of City Hall still looked familiar as he passed Union Station and the
new Metro line, which he had invested in as well.
 

           
Cherry
blossoms fell like snowflakes along the scented streets while he rode Rabbit
into the Fashion District to locate Raeden’s building.
 
His heart rate increased, looking up at her
sign.
 
Pride rose in his chest at the realization
of what his friend—the love of his life— had accomplished in such a short time.

           
When
he strode inside, his eyes flared open in amazement watching the women work in
the midst of colorful fabrics and dozens of garments hanging from black lacquered
racks.
 
Artistic sketches of gowns
surrounded by bright painted frames and signed by Raeden decorated the
walls.
 
She had sure been busy and was
such a gifted artist.
 

His heart sank in
his chest believing after such a commitment to her life’s dream, she would
never be willing to leave all this behind.

           
A
nice looking woman strolled toward him appearing confident and professional in
a well-tailored dress.
 
“I am Sally
Wentworth, the manager, may I help you?”

           
He
pulled off his black Stetson, giving her a charming smile.
 
“I’m Cash Rydell.
 
I’ve come to see Raeden.”

           
“Mrs.
Newell is not in at the moment but I am expecting her any minute.
 
If you would like to wait in her office, I
will bring you some tea.”

           
Rae is using her maiden name but why Misses?
 
He noticed the gold band on Sally’s
finger.
 
“No thanks, Mrs. Wentworth.
 
I’ll just wait outside.
 
This is quite an operation you have going.”

           
Sally
folded her hands in front of her skirt.
 
“Yes, we keep very busy.
 
If there
is nothing else, I’ll return to my duties.”
 
Her eyes squinted and her brow drew together as she looked him over
suspiciously then she walked toward the small office in the corner pausing at
each machine inspecting the laborer’s work.

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