Spirit's Song (14 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Kaylynn was still subdued the next morning. She’d taken a long nap the day before, eaten dinner in her room. Jesse had spent the evening in the saloon, buying drinks for Sandler, who’d had a long walk back to town. He was mad as hell, but not mad enough, or foolhardy enough, to try to take Kaylynn a second time.

Eyes narrowed, Jesse sat back in his chair, regarding her across the dining room table while she picked at her breakfast.

“Kaylynn, why don’t you tell me about it?”

“I can’t.”

He finished his coffee and put the cup aside. “I’m giving up ten grand to take you back to your parents. I think that buys me the reason.”

She looked up at him then. “He…my husband…he…” She took a deep breath and finished in a rush. “He beat me.”

Jesse frowned. “Beat you?”

Kaylynn stared at the fork clutched in her hand. “All the time.”

Jesse swore under his breath as he recalled the day he had slapped her. Damn.

“I’ll see you get back to your parents,” he said quietly.

Relief washed through her, pure and sweet and clean. “Thank you.”

“You about done there?”

“Yes.” She put her fork on her plate, folded her napkin and placed it on the table.

Rising, Jesse dropped a dollar on the table, then reached for his hat. Taking Kaylynn by the arm, they left the dining room.

Jesse paused in the lobby. “I need to go over to the stage depot. You want to go with me, or stay here?”

“I’d like to go with you.”

There wasn’t much activity in the street at this time of the day. The stage depot was located at the west end of town. A long counter divided the small one-room building. According to the schedule, the next stage headed East was due to leave at half past one that afternoon.

Several posters had been tacked to the side of the building. Kaylynn read them while waiting for Jesse to purchase their tickets.

One was an advertisement for forty acres of “prime grazing land” in Texas.

Several were wanted posters. One Victor Mazza was wanted for robbing a number of trains and stages. The reward for his capture “dead or alive” was five hundred dollars. Another poster was for the James Younger Gang. She had heard of them. They were notorious in Kansas and Missouri. The poster said they were wanted for robbing the Chicago, Rock Island and Pacific Railroad in Adair, Iowa, of six thousand dollars, as well as for several other bank robberies in Kansas and Missouri. She recalled reading somewhere that the James Gang had been responsible for the first train robbery ever committed.

Another flyer was titled “Hints For Plains Travelers”. She read this one with interest.

1. The best seat inside a stagecoach is the one next to the driver.

2. Never ride in cold weather with tight boots or shoes or close-fitting gloves.

3. When the driver asks you to get off and walk, do it without grumbling. He will not request it unless absolutely necessary. If a team runs away, sit still and take your chances; if you jump, nine times out of ten you will be hurt.

4. In very cold weather, abstain entirely from liquor while on the road; a man will freeze twice as quick while under its influence.

5. Don’t growl at food stations; stage companies generally provide the best they can get.

6. Don’t smoke a strong pipe inside especially early in the morning. Spit on the leeward side of the coach.

7. Don’t snore, nor lop over on your neighbor when sleeping.

8. Never attempt to fire a gun or pistol while on the road, it may frighten the team. Don’t discuss politics or religion, nor point out places on the road where horrible murders have been committed.

9. Don’t linger too long at the pewter washbasin. Don’t grease your hair before starting or dust will stick there in sufficient quantities to make a respectable “tater” patch. Tie a silk handkerchief around your neck to keep out dust and prevent sunburns. A little glycerin is good in case of chapped hands.

10. Don’t imagine for a moment you are going on a picnic; expect annoyance, discomfort and some hardships. If you are disappointed, thank heaven.

Apparently wanting to make sure that no point was missed, someone had posted a second list entitled “Stagecoach Riders Nine Commandments”.

1. Abstinence from liquor is requested. If you must drink, share your bottle; otherwise you will appear to be selfish and un-neighborly.

2. If ladies are present, gentlemen are urged to forego smoking cigars and pipes, as the odor of same is repugnant to the gentle sex. Chewing tobacco is permitted, but spit with the wind, not against it.

3. Gentlemen must refrain from using rough language in the presence of ladies and children.

4. Buffalo robes are provided for your comfort during cold weather. Hogging robes will not be tolerated and the offender will be made to ride with the driver.

5. Don’t snore loudly while sleeping or use your fellow passenger’s shoulder for a pillow. He (or she) may not understand and friction may result.

6. Firearms may be kept on your person for use in emergencies. Do not fire them for pleasure or shoot wild animals as the sound riles the horses.

7. In the event of runaway horses, remain calm. Leaping from the coach in panic will leave you injured, at the mercy of the elements, hostile Indians and hungry coyotes.

8. Forbidden topics of discussion are stagecoach robberies and Indian uprisings.

9. Gents guilty of unchivalrous behavior toward lady passengers will be put off the stage. It’s a long walk back. A word to the wise is sufficient.

She read number seven again, shuddering at the part about being at the mercy of hostile Indians. She had survived one attack. Surely Fate would not subject her to another.

Jesse turned away from the counter and slipped their tickets into his back pocket. “So, would you like to take a walk?” he asked.

“A walk?” Kaylynn looked around. “Where to?”

“We’ve got some time to kill before the stage leaves. There’s a pretty little lake not far from here.”

“All right.”

He took her hand, surprised that she didn’t object. It made him feel suddenly young and carefree, to be walking hand in hand with a pretty girl.

“What will you do with your horse while we’re gone?” Kaylynn asked as they left the depot.

“Take her with me.”

“Oh?”

Jesse nodded. “I’ll tie her to the back of the coach. It’s done all the time.”

Away from the town, there was only green grass and blue sky.

Kaylynn was acutely aware of the man walking beside her, of his large calloused hand holding hers. His nearness filled her with an odd excitement. Her every nerve seemed to be humming, her skin felt extraordinarily sensitive.

Walking on, they neared a stand of slender willows. Beyond the trees was a small blue pool surrounded by a carpet of grass. Sunlight danced on the quiet surface of the water, sparkling like diamonds tossed by a careless hand. She smiled as a fish jumped, its tiny silver body glistening wetly.

Jesse sat down on a log, and after a moment, she sat beside him, her insides trembling, her heart pounding.

Silence stretched between them. It made her nervous. She glanced at him, then looked away. What was he thinking?

“It is pretty here,” she remarked, unable to endure the silence any longer. Her voice sounded loud in her ears.

“Yeah. Peaceful.”

Kaylynn nodded. Being a bounty hunter, she thought it unlikely that he had known much peace in his life. She studied him from the corner of her eye. His profile was sharp and clean. He really was a handsome man. She hardly even noticed the scar on his cheek anymore.

An odd sensation uncurled within her stomach, like a rosebud opening its petals to the light of the sun. She had a sudden urge to touch his cheek, to feel the warmth of his skin beneath her hand, to make him smile.

Abruptly, he turned to face her. “What?”

She blinked at him, startled by his curt tone.

Jesse dragged a hand over his jaw. “I’m sorry.”

Kaylynn smiled tentatively. “I wasn’t staring, really.”

“It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

“Are you?”

“I thought I was.”

“Do you like poetry?”

He lifted one brow. “Poetry?” He laughed softly. “Do I look like a man who reads poetry?”

He grinned as her cheeks turned a rosy shade of red.

“I guess not.”

“Why’d you ask?”

“Never mind.”

“Tell me.”

“This place.” She made a gesture that encompassed the lake and the grass. “It reminded me of a poem, that’s all.”

“How does it go, that poem?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Sure you do.”

“Well…” She chewed the inside of her lip a moment, wishing she had never mentioned it. It was a love poem from a book titled
Poems and Sonnets to Win a Lady’s Heart
.”

“I’d like to hear it.”

She looked away, her gaze settling on the lake.

“Walk with me, Spirit’s Song, and sing gently to me in the night of your love.

Tell me of grasses sweet and lying in the sun together.

Tell me of moonlight and starlight somehow joined as one,

forming an endless blanket of light for our roof.

And then, my lady fair, tell me that it will never end.”

“That was pretty,” Jesse said. “Real pretty.”

Kaylynn nodded, unable to meet his eyes.

“Do you know any more?”

“Part of one.”

“Recite it for me.”

“When the morning awakes you, listen as my voice softly calls, beckoning you to arise to new wonders.

Listen for my footsteps as I arrive with the dawn.

I will not delay my coming to you.

Warm yourself in my memory.

With each breath of the day, I whisper your name on the wind.

I will be there. As the sun shines, and the birds sing, my love will prevail.”

Hesitant, she turned and met his gaze, felt a rush of heat engulf her as his gaze met hers.

“Kaylynn…”

“I…it’s just…” She stared at him, mesmerized, her body yearning toward him, her heart thundering in her ears as she waited. Waited, hoping and afraid.

“Kaylynn.”

“We should go back.” She spoke quickly, afraid of the feelings rioting within her, afraid of being hurt, of being rejected, ridiculed, found wanting. She was afraid he would reach for her, kiss her. Afraid he wouldn’t.

Slowly, so as not to frighten her, Jesse took her hand in his hand. “Kaylynn, don’t run away from me. I won’t hurt you.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Jesse, I…”

“What is it? You can tell me.”

She shook her head, knowing she could never put her feelings, her fears, into words.

“Touch me,” Jesse said, his voice whisper-soft. “I need to feel your touch. Just once.”

She looked into his eyes and knew she couldn’t refuse his request, or deny the urgings of her own heart. Gently, she caressed his right cheek, her fingertips trailing down his neck, over his shoulder, down his arm.

A sigh escaped Jesse’s lips and then, unable to resist, he bent his head and kissed her.

For a moment, their gazes met and then, with a sigh, Kaylynn closed her eyes, the wonder of his touch swallowing her fear.

It was a moment steeped in magic and sunlight. The rest of the world fell away and she felt herself being reborn in Jesse Yellow Thunder’s arms. She felt his spirit touching hers, felt his need, his loneliness, and she knew, in the deepest part of her being, that this man would never hurt her, never belittle her, never make her feel worthless. He would live for her and die for her.

“Kay.” He drew back a little, his voice was ragged, his eyes filled with the same wonder she knew must be reflected in her own.

She smiled tentatively, her heart filled to overflowing.

“You felt it, too?”

He nodded, his mind echoing the words she had spoken earlier.
Walk with me, Spirit’s Song, and sing to me gently in the night of your love…
He could hear her heart singing in his soul, the soft, sweet notes lighting corners long dark, healing old hurts, old wounds.

Unable to put his feelings into words as eloquent as the poetry she had recited, he drew her into his arms and kissed her again, hoping she would hear the words he could not say, be warmed by the love he was incapable of speaking aloud.