Fireblossom (45 page)

A torrent of emotions swept Maddie; she was surprised by the force of it. Jumping to her feet, she looked first at Sun Smile, whose eyes were as wide as a doe's, then at her father.

Benjamin came clattering down the stairs, shouting, "What'll we do? What'll we do? Where's Fox? Shall I get the gun?"

Maddie put a hand on his shoulder to stop him before he could scramble toward Stephen's room for the rifle her father kept propped against the window sill. "No. I'll get the gun."

When she passed her father, she saw that he was squeezing Sun Smile's hand so hard that her fingers were white; his other hand was pressed to his chest. Clearly he was in pain.

"Madeleine... I can't let you go out there. I'm the man of the family—"

"Nonsense, Father," she replied briskly. "You're ill. Do you think I'd allow you to risk your life over a foolish incident like this? I'll deal with those ignorant louts." When she returned with the rifle, she surprised herself with the wave of affection she felt toward Sun Smile. It caused her to reach out and caress her cheek. "Don't worry about a thing."

Even Annie Sunday appeared to give in after considering what position to take. Although normally a dominating presence, she was not the sort to take charge when violence threatened. Now she stood aside and watched with a gleam of respect in her hazel eyes as her daughter-in-law threw open the front door and stepped onto the porch.

What appeared to be a sea of angry faces filled the open area in front of the house. Someone yelled, "Injin lover! Bring out that Injin! She might be the one who killed Preacher Smith!"

There was a general rumbling of agreement. Deep in the crowd, a derby pulled down low on his head, was Graham Winslow. "They're all animals!" he was crying in an attempt to stir up the mob. "Can't be trusted! We won't be safe until every Indian in Dakota Territory is dead!" Each time he spoke, other voices rose in a chorus of repetition.

Finally Maddie pointed the rifle into the air and pulled the trigger. And then again. When the mindless shouting died down, she turned the gun toward the mob and yelled, "You all haven't the sense God gave a mule! My dear sister is no threat to any of you, or to anyone else! She is a member of my family and a peaceful person—with as much right to be in Deadwood as any of you. More, actually, since the Indians inhabited the Black Hills long before our silly white faces intruded. Now, unless you want me to shoot right into you, I suggest that you all turn tail and run as fast as you can off our property!"

With that, she cocked the hammer and watched as the people began to retreat. Gradually their grumbling ceased, and a few even offered her an apology in parting. When she went back into the house, she set down the rifle and walked to the settee. Her father was smiling, tears in his eyes. She hugged him, then turned to her sister and hugged her, too.

"Welcome to our family, Sun Smile," she whispered against her cheek. "You'll be safe with us for as long as you care to stay."

Maddie felt certain that she wasn't imagining the feeling that Sun Smile hugged her in return.

Chapter 27

September 15, 1876

Paradise itself could not be more sublime than our life,
Maddie thought. Her heart caressed each word as she formed them in her mind. In the first days of her marriage to Fox, she had waited for the joy to abate, yet the more she loved, the more it seemed her heart could hold. Both Maddie and Fox knew that what they were making together was a treasure beyond price, and they were wise enough to share a deep sense of gratitude.

Snuggling against Fox's tapering, tanned back, Maddie wrapped her arm around him and pressed kisses to the nape of his neck, to his shoulder blades and down his spine. Her hand felt the muscled ridges of his belly, then strayed lower to find Fox fully and invitingly erect. His body never ceased to amaze and intoxicate her.

"Maddie," he mumbled, apparently still asleep, "I have a bite. A big one."

"You do?" She propped herself up to peek at her husband's profile. His hair was tousled on his brow, and he looked engagingly boyish and worried. Maddie had learned that it was not uncommon for Fox to make sudden, clear statements in his sleep. Sometimes they were alarming, the product of nightmares, but more often when she heard his words she wanted to giggle. "What are you biting?"

Fox frowned. "I—what—?" Apparently unwilling to leave the dream, he burrowed facedown into his pillow.

Unable to restrain herself, she nuzzled his shoulder and ran her hand down the sculpted surface of his back and buttocks. The morning sun drenched the bed with warmth, so she swept back the covers. After a moment Fox turned his head and opened one eye.

"I was fishing," he muttered accusingly.

"Oh!" Green eyes twinkling, she tried not to smile. "I see!"

He pretended to begrudge her his embrace as she crawled into his arms. In a voice husky with sleep, he complained, "It was the biggest rainbow trout I've ever seen, and the setting was magnificent—a secluded rushing stream high in the Hills, a crisp morning, my wife perched on the bank, watching in adoration as I reeled in the thrashing monster." He sighed. "It must've weighed twenty pounds."

"Is that possible?" Maddie asked, her cheek against the strength of his chest. "A twenty-pound rainbow trout, I mean?"

"That's not the point! It was a
dream,
and I was enjoying every moment." He saw by the sun that he had overslept, yet still he lingered in the feather bed. Maddie was nibbling at him, her hair like a soft stream of fire across his body. They seemed to drink from the same well of joy these days, and when his naturally more brooding nature rose up, Maddie surrounded him like an enchanting light, infecting him with her own relentless high spirits. Gradually Fox was learning that his sense of foreboding was pointless; all that was real was the present moment. Marriage to Maddie made each day so magical that he found himself worrying less and less about tomorrow. "It's late," he said now without conviction.

Wearing only a wispy lawn chemise edged in lace, Maddie straddled his hips and smiled with confident sensuality. She tossed her head back so that her hair swept over Fox's thighs, then drew the chemise over her head to reveal her narrow waist and creamy breasts.

"You're insatiable," Fox declared, his voice a mixture of amusement and arousal as he reached out to touch her.

"It's not my fault," she replied, fairly purring under the play of his fingers. "Maybe it's this bed. Did you put a spell on it when you built it?"

"I think we did that together, on our wedding night, my darling." With that, he drew her into his arms and they made love with sweet, feverish ardor.

It was nearly ten o'clock by the time Maddie and Fox were dressed, fed, and ready to begin the day. Sitting at the table as he finished a second cup of coffee, Fox gazed around the house that his wife had worked so lovingly to transform into a home these past weeks. Her touch was everywhere, from the flowers that brightened every tabletop, to the pictures on the walls, to the cozy, inviting settee and various other pieces of furniture that now filled the spacious rooms. Many things had been Colleen Avery's, sent for by Stephen to give to his daughter. Maddie's favorites were a ladder-back rocking chair with a woven rush seat, a decorated warming pan to use in their bed when winter struck, a set of silver candlesticks, and a beautiful hand-painted dower chest. The house was a happy mixture of family heirlooms and new pieces that Maddie and Fox had chosen together. Whenever Fox opened the door and stepped into this home, the sense of well-being and contentment that swept over him was powerful.

And in spite of the challenges of his new work, he also felt a tug when it was time for him to leave the house. It came now as he stood and set down his cup. Maddie was making a great effort to become a real cook, and she looked up from the pie crust she was mixing. "Are you sure you wouldn't like another egg?" she asked. "More ham?"

Fondly he shook his head. "I've no doubt that Titus is despairing of me. He's probably been at the sawmill, overseeing construction, for hours while I lay abed."

"He understands," she said, smiling.

"For the moment. Now, give me a kiss, but don't try to take advantage of me again..."

Maddie cuffed his arm, wiped her hands on her apron, and then stepped into his embrace. She walked him to the door, kissed him again, and then watched him walk out into the morning sunshine. It was a spectacular day: Indian summer with the promise of frost at night. As Fox left his wife and started off to fetch Watson, Annie Sunday's cottage door opened and she looked out.

"Daniel, you're lazier than you have a right to be, you know."

With an indulgent smile, he paused to kiss his mother's cheek. "Fortunately I have you to remind me of my shortcomings."

"Don't be impudent." Annie Sunday wagged a finger at him, then asked, "How do you like the curtains?"

Fox thought for a moment before he realized that she was referring to the curtains she and Susan O'Hara had helped Maddie sew. The crisp, light panels of gathered muslin had gone up two days earlier. The triumph, as he saw it, was not the curtains, but the relationship that Maddie had worked so painstakingly to forge with his mother over the past weeks. As difficult as it was to believe, all three households now got along better than he would have ever dreamed possible.

"I like the curtains," he assured her, adding, "And I appreciate you, Ma. You're a good woman."

"I know it." She straightened her shoulders and gave him a bold smile. "Now be on your way. From the looks of things, you'll soon have children to feed, and you can't do it if you lie in bed with your wife all day, Daniel Matthews!"

Annie Sunday left the door to her cottage open after Fox had ridden off, and soon enough Maddie appeared. She stood for a moment in the doorway, gazing at her half-sister, who sat beside Annie Sunday in the window seat. A book was spread open on the older woman's lap and she pointed to pictures and said the words for each, which Sun Smile softly repeated.

"Good morning, you two," Maddie greeted them.

Sun Smile looked up and nodded, the corners of her mouth turned upward slightly. Maddie still had doubts about her mother-in-law's methods with Sun Smile, but she was so busy with her own life that she left them alone. At least Sun Smile appeared to be adjusting. What pleased her most was the tentative feeling that a bond of some sort was forming between herself and her half-sister... and that bond was even more evident between Sun Smile and Stephen Avery. Although they could not communicate in words, they had a relationship now that Maddie sometimes envied. Stephen seemed to be attached to Annie Sunday, too. Fox had discussed all these relationships with her and helped her to understand that Annie and Sun Smile were filling needs for Stephen that Maddie no longer had time to cater to. He helped her to feel grateful that life had shifted some of the characters around so that everyone was getting the love they needed.

"Daniel said that he likes our curtains," Annie Sunday said to her daughter-in-law. "Why don't you make yourself a cup of tea and sit down for a bit? The water in the kettle is still hot."

Maddie obeyed, listening to the English lesson until she took a chair near the window seat. "Actually I came over to copy down your recipe for wild plum pie."

"Where did you get wild plums?"

"One of Gramma Susan's friends brought her a bushel basket full from the lower hills. She says they're quite tart, but it'll be fun to see what we can make with them."

Annie Sunday removed her spectacles and tapped a fingertip against her chin in a gesture that reminded Maddie of Fox. "Wild plums are difficult to seed. Perhaps I should help Susan."

"I'm sure she'd appreciate it," Maddie replied. She could have sworn for an instant that Sun Smile gave her a knowing glance, but then her half-sister's gray eyes returned to the picture book.

At that moment, as if on cue, Susan O'Hara appeared in the doorway, holding a huge basket filled with oval, orange-red wild plums. "What a morning I've had! Today is Benjamin's first day of school here. Thank goodness for Wang Chee, or he'd never have gotten there on time." She directed a faintly accusatory glance at her granddaughter, who had the grace to blush. "I understand that you are newly married, Madeleine, but I hope that you don't intend to leave me completely alone to care for your ailing father and rambunctious brother!"

Annie Sunday had taken the basket from the elderly woman and led her to a worn wing chair. Now she brought her a cup of tea. "Land sakes, why didn't someone tell
me
about young Benjamin's schedule? Sun Smile and I would have gotten him to school on time." She reached out to smooth back an errant white wisp from Susan's brow. "Now then, I want you to promise that if you need help, you won't give a second thought to calling on me. What else am I good for?"

"Oh, I—"

"I insist, Susan!"

The old woman sank back in the chair with a smile of surrender. Annie Sunday, it seemed, had grown on her. "Well, all right..."