Quicksilver Passion (77 page)

Do I? I can’t help it, sweet Silver. You affect me that way.”

Men!” she sniffed with disdain, brushing her hair in long strokes.
Any pretty woman, you want to top. When I’m old and ugly, no one will want me.” She hadn’t meant to tell him that; it was her biggest fear, that when her looks had finally faded, no one would love or even want her.

He looked up from rolling a cigarette.
Silver, there’s lots of pretty women in this world, but you’re special. I started out just wanting to make love to you, I’ll admit that. But now . . .”

But now?” she paused, looked at him.

He finished rolling the cigarette and toyed with it.
I never thought I’d say this to a woman, but I’d like to be around when you’re old. To me, I think you will always be beautiful, even when there’s lines in your face and that lovely hair has turned gray. If I’m around, you won’t need all those mirrors; you can see your reflection in my eyes and they’ll tell you that to me, you are lovely still.”

His words sounded so sincere that she was shaken, and then she remembered that, like all men, he would say anything that would get her under him with her thighs apart.
Animals
. That’s what they all were—
animals
.

She finished brushing her hair and put it up in a French twist.
Can you find me some more of Willie’s clothes?”

Sure.” He lit the cigarette with a burning stick from the fire then went over to dig some things from the trunk.
I’ll go see about the burro while you dress.”

She held the clothes in front of her and looked up at the big man.
You’re a strange guy, Cherokee. I never met anyone like you before.”

He shrugged, looking embarrassed.
Maybe it comes from being raised up in the hills by an Indian grandmother. We didn’t see very many white people; and didn’t trust them and with good reason. The soldiers dragged my
e-tsi
, my mother, away and sent her along with the others on the Removal—the Trail of Tears.”

And your father?”

He ran off with a saloon whore and went chasing the gold at the end of the rainbow,” Cherokee blew smoke toward the ceiling.
Never found it. He’d turn up now and then, tell me how he would come for me when he finally hit it big. All he left me when he died was a few rusty tools and this claim.”