Thunder on the Plains (38 page)

Sunny looked down and tied off Colt's bandages, secretly grateful for the way he tried to keep things casual and respectful. Stuart explained to Casement how they knew Colt. Casement began apologizing for the damage to the car, as well as praising Colt for giving a warning in time for the men to get to their guns.

“The Cheyenne are getting more violent all the time,” Colt answered the man. “You'd better get more soldiers out here right away, General. That's the biggest war party they've sent against us yet, and the closest they've come to burning down the trains and everything around them. And I think you'd better hire two or three more scouts.”

“I'll get more soldiers out here,” Sunny declared, straightening. “There will be no more delay! General Sherman is supposed to be taking care of the Indian problem, and we don't even know where he is at the moment!” She looked at Stuart. “You go tell the telegrapher to shimmy up the nearest pole and send a message off to Omaha. I want more protection out here, by
tomorrow
! There is no excuse for this! I want my men protected!”

Stuart nodded and left. Casement glanced at Colt. “I'll need you to ride out and make sure those Cheyenne aren't planning to come back today.”

“I'll take care of it, sir.”

“Take a minute to gather yourself. I have to go and assess the damage.” The man left, and Sunny turned to a sniffling Mae.

“Stop crying, Mae. We're all right. This man is Colt Travis. You never got to meet him when he came to see me in Chicago.”

Mae stared and rose slowly. She thought Colt both handsome and frightening, and she found it difficult to believe Sunny could be good friends with such a savage-looking man, although there was a stirring masculinity about him that made a woman's heart rush a little faster. “I'm glad to meet you, Mr. Travis,” she told him. She looked at Sunny. “I'll go back to my quarters, ma'am.”

She hurried off, and Sunny turned to Colt. “Mae is my personal maid. I take her everywhere with me.” She knelt in front of him. “For heaven's sake, Colt, why didn't you tell me what you were doing? You must know I've wondered and worried about what happened to you after Vi told me how sick you were. And Andersonville! What kind of horrors you must have suffered there!” She looked him over, still shaken by his presence. “And look at you now! It's the land, isn't it?” She met his eyes again. “You came back out here to heal.”

He nodded, his eyes moving over her in a way that made her feel too warm. “Last spring I decided it was time to put the past behind me and get back on my feet again. I needed work, remembered your comment about the railroad. As far as letting you know—” He shrugged. “I just figured it was better I didn't. I didn't think I'd actually run into you, and I knew somebody in your position wouldn't know the individual names of the men who worked for you.”

“You don't have to put it that way. You work for the Union Pacific. I am just one of several owners. Dr. Durant is the biggest shareholder.”

He grinned facetiously, glancing around at the Victorian elegance of the parlor car. “I'd say you're a pretty important factor in this whole thing.” He shook his head and rose. “This is some private car. I've never seen anything like this—a far cry from those big old boxes the men sleep in, I'll say that.”

“Would you like some kind of drink? A little wine perhaps? I can get you anything you want.”

He moved his eyes back to hers, and they bore a strangely sad look.
No, you can't
, they told her. “One shot of whiskey might do it.”

She touched his arm. “You sit back down, and I'll have Mae go and get it.” She hurried away for a moment, through the private quarters.

Colt had seen those quarters on his way in, a small enclosure with a canopied bed and a dresser. The bed was all ruffles and silk and had been left unmade. Now that he knew who slept in it, old disturbing desires began to nudge at him. This was exactly what he did
not
want to happen. His plan had been to never set eyes on Sunny Landers again. Now here she was, in that beautiful blue outfit that made her eyes look even bluer. Her hair was all wound up into some kind of coif at the back of her neck and covered with blue netting, but he remembered how it looked brushed out long and golden around her shoulders.

Sunny returned a moment later with a whiskey bottle and a shot glass. She sat down beside him on the window seat and poured a shot, handing it over. Colt took it and gladly drank it in one quick gulp, deciding he needed it for more reasons than an Indian attack.

“I'm glad to see you again, Colt, to know how well you are.” Their eyes met, and she blushed and looked down. “Colt—”

“Don't say it, Sunny.” Did she know what she did to him, sitting this close, looking like that, smelling like that? He suddenly wished he had not put off taking care of his long-neglected need for a woman. The first thing he was going to do when things calmed down was go visit the whores at the camp town. Why hadn't that bothered him all that much until now? Damn her! “How about one more shot?” he asked.

She raised her eyes, and Colt noticed the misty look to them. She took the shot glass and filled it again, the huge diamond glittering on her left hand. He took the glass and drank down the whiskey, then took hold of her wrist with his other hand to look more closely at the ring. “Quite a rock,” he told her. “But then, Blaine O'Brien can afford the best, I guess.”

Sunny caught a hint of sarcasm in the words. She wondered if he realized the affect his touch still had on her. “I thought it was about time I gave the man an answer,” she told him. “He's waited a long time.”

Colt watched her eyes.
I'd wait forever too
, he thought.
But
then, there would be no sense in that, would there? We already decided that.
All his resolve that he had finally gotten over ridiculous thoughts about this woman left him the moment he set eyes on her again. “I hope to hell the man knows how lucky he is,” he told her. “And I hope you'll both be very happy. I really mean that.” He rose. “You heard Casement. I've got to get back out there.”
I've got to get away from you
, he thought.

“Colt, I hate to see you leave so soon. Come back later and have supper with us.”

He looked down at her, and for several long seconds neither said a word. “You know I can't, Sunny,” he finally answered quietly. “I do appreciate you fixing up the wound and your concern for what happened to me after I left Chicago. Now you know I'm all right.”

Did he realize how wonderful he looked to her, standing there with all that power, his dark skin glistening, his long hair gracing those broad shoulders? He was more Indian than she had ever seen him. “I can't help the concern, Colt.” She stepped a little closer, her eyes pleading. “If there's anything you need, anything at all, anytime—even after I'm married, you come to me, or to Stuart and Vi, do you hear? Promise me. I want you to be happy, Colt.”

“I already am, just being out here doing what I'm doing.”

She smiled sadly. “I suppose you are.”

His eyes moved over her appreciatively. “By the way, you get more beautiful every time I see you. There must be a lot of men who envy Blaine O'Brien.” He sighed. “Say hello to Vi for me. Tell her thanks for the nice talk we had back in Chicago.”

“I will.”

For a fleeting moment he thought of how exciting it would be to walk up to her and sweep her off her feet and carry her into that private room where the bed was still unmade. He wondered how much resistance he would get. Did she still want him that way, still think about that night on the beach, in spite of the ring on her hand? He quickly turned and left, furious with himself for the thought.

“Good-bye, Colt,” she called from the platform.

He waved, walking out to his horse, which was grazing calmly not far away. In one quick leap he was on the animal's back. He rode off, and did not look back.

A cold October rain and an almost perpetual headache since returning from the line camp kept Sunny from her normal workday. She sat at the window of the main-floor parlor of her Omaha home, a much more modest structure than her Chicago mansion, since she considered it only temporary, but a home she actually enjoyed more because she had had it built herself. It was warmer than the mansion, still three stories, but on far simpler a scale. The house was frame, with a circular balconied entry portico, large windows, and dormers in the top floor with swan's-neck pediments. Mae and the other servants lived on the top floor, all bedrooms and a parlor were on the second floor, the kitchen, elegant dining room, a library, living room, another parlor, and a marble-floored entranceway on the main floor. Every room was filled with plants and caged birds, and Sunny considered the house cheery and warm, much more fitting to her own personality than the Chicago mansion; more soothing to come home to after a long, busy day.

She had been happy here, loved it in Omaha, had struggled with her dread of having to move to New York with Blaine. She had made up her mind she could do it and be happy, since she would be a wife and probably soon after a mother. Now she was not so sure…now that she had seen Colt again. She wished she could hate him for always showing up in her life at the worst times, but then, when would be a right time? Now that she knew he was out there on the plains and in constant danger, how could she leave Omaha?

She watched a carriage come up the brick drive, recognized it as Stuart's. She watched Vi disembark and run through the rain to the portico. She heard the knock and she waited for one of the servants to answer. She turned away from the window then and leaned back in a rocker, waiting, suspecting the reason Vi had come to see her. She heard the servant ask for Vi's cape and gloves and hat, and a moment later Vi entered the parlor.

“What a nasty day! Even the bottom of my dress is wet.” Vi looked down and shook at her dress slightly, then patted the sides of her hair.

“Hello, Vi.”

The woman took a deep breath and walked closer. “I came to see if there is anything I can do for you, Sunny. Stuart says you haven't been in to the office since you got back from visiting the line camp.” She squinted slightly, looking her over as she sat down in a silk love seat across from Sunny. “I must say, you don't look well at all. What's wrong, Sunny? Can I help?”

Sunny smiled sadly. “I wish you could.” She rubbed her eyes. “Just a constant headache, that's all.”

Vi leaned forward, folding her arms and resting them on her knees. “Maybe a good long talk would cure it.”

“Maybe.”

Vi hesitated a moment, hoping Sunny would offer to start, but she sat silent. Was she afraid to admit the truth? Vi suspected exactly what was wrong, and she decided to broach the subject head-on. “Sunny,” she said, “Stuart told me about Colt scouting for the railroad.” She watched Sunny's cheeks begin to flush. “He told me the whole exciting story of the Indian attack and all. I must say, his description of Colt certainly doesn't fit the way he looked when I saw him in the hospital in Chicago. I'm so glad to hear he's gotten so healthy again.”

Sunny watched her eyes, knew good and well exactly what the woman was trying to do. Finally, she laughed almost sarcastically. “Healthy?” she answered. “Oh, Vi, he looked magnificent.” She moved her eyes to gaze at a crackling fire in the nearby hearth. “That's what this land out here does for him. I've never seen him look more handsome, in spite of his scars, or more Indian. He's let his hair grow longer. The only thing that betrays his white side are those hazel eyes.” She looked back at Vi. “I
do
need to talk, Vi. I'm in a terrible mess on the inside; and you, dear friend, already know it.”

Vi smiled consolingly. “You've always loved him, haven't you?”

Sunny's eyes teared, and she closed them and leaned back again. “Yes,” she answered in a near whisper. “That's the hell of it. God forgive me, but I want him, Vi, in a way I've never wanted Blaine.” She swallowed, and a tear slipped down her cheek. “If I lived to be three hundred, it could never work, but I want him anyway.” She took a long, deep breath. “God, it feels good to tell somebody.” More tears came then, and she put her face in her hands and wept. “That night on the beach—if he hadn't been strong enough to stop, God only knows what I would have let him do. He touches me, and I have no control over myself.” She jerked in a sob and straightened slightly to take a handkerchief from a pocket on her dress. She wiped her eyes. “I can go for years without seeing him, yet the moment I do, it's like…like he casts some kind of spell on me. And he doesn't try to do it. He fights it just as hard as I do.”

Vi let her cry for a few minutes, feeling like crying herself.

“I don't know what to do, Vi. I just don't know what to do.” Sunny met Vi's kind dark eyes. “How can I marry Blaine when I feel this way? And yet how could I explain it to him? And if I don't marry him, maybe I'll just grow into an old spinster.” More tears came. “God knows Colt would never dream of marrying someone like me. He could never put up with this life, and I can't give it up, Vi.”

Vi shook her head. “You don't have any idea what Colt would really want, because neither of you has allowed yourselves to say what you really feel.”

Sunny blew her nose and breathed deeply to calm herself. She got up from the rocker and went to stand in front of the fire. “It's like I love two men, Vi.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes again. “I love Blaine for being so patient, for the way he fits into my world, for his importance and his knowledge of business; but I don't—” She put her head back and closed her eyes. “I don't
want
him, not like I want Colt. I love Colt for all that's wild in him, his physical power, his bravery and skill. He's like a wonderful escape from everything that burdens me. He represents, I don't know, a kind of freedom, I guess, the simple life.” She shook her head and turned to look at Vi. “But even if we wanted to try to be together, I can't stand the thought of the hell the people from my world would make for him. There isn't anyone, except maybe for you and Stuart, who would believe he didn't want my money. Can you just imagine how someone like Vince would treat him, and most of my friends and business associates? He's a proud man, Vi. He wouldn't be able to take it for long.”

“He's also a very strong man, Sunny, inside and out. I'd wager he could take quite a bit if it meant being able to be with the woman he loves. And you remember how he handled Vince the night of your party. Colt might not be familiar with the kind of life you lead, Sunny, but he's no dummy. He's a smart man, a man who can learn quickly. My guess is he could handle himself with as much command and power in a boardroom as he can out on the prairie fighting Indians. He just doesn't know it yet.” She smiled wryly. “Someone would have to teach him.” She rose and walked closer. “But then maybe he wouldn't even have to
be
in a boardroom. Where love is concerned, sometimes people can reach all kinds of compromises in order to be together.”

Sunny frowned. “Vi, do you realize what you're saying? It's impossible!”

“You don't know that for certain, Sunny. That's just what everyone else has been telling you. I believed it myself until I spoke with Colt at the hospital. I saw the look in his eyes when he talked about you. That man loves you, Sunny. He probably has loved you since you were fifteen years old. I'm sure he loved his wife very much and never would have gone any farther with his feelings for you if she and his son hadn't been killed. But the fact is they're gone, and he's alone, and I suspect he's just as unhappy as you are.”

Sunny turned away. “It's all so ridiculous. And what about poor Blaine? He's waited so long to marry me. I don't know if I have
reason
to cancel our engagement. It might be the biggest mistake of my life. If I give back my ring, Vi, it will be over for good.”

Vi touched her shoulder. “All you have to do is ask yourself—if you had to pick one of them and decide you would never see him again, which one would you choose?”

Sunny faced her. “You know which one.”

Vi nodded. “Ask yourself one more thing. What if you
do
marry Blaine, feeling the way you do about Colt? In your heart, Sunny, in your soul, your dreams, who would you imagine was really sharing your bed?”

Sunny felt her cheeks getting hot, and she walked past Vi back to her rocker. “Don't say it, Vi.”

“I
have
to say it. There are all kinds of adultery, Sunny. And adultery is one thing I don't think you're capable of living with, even if it
does
mean living the life of a spinster. You can be ruthless and scheming when it comes to business, but not when it comes to your heart and how you treat the people you love. It isn't in you.”

Sunny sat down wearily, feeling physically and emotionally drained. “So, what should I do?”

Vi came over and knelt in front of her. “I think you have to be fair, Sunny, to yourself, to Colt,
and
to Blaine. Blaine is going to be gone for several more months. You don't have to tell him a thing right away, not until you talk to Colt.”

“I can't do that.” Sunny closed her eyes, shivering with the thought of it. “What if it turned out like, like that last night I saw him at Fort Laramie? I made a fool of myself that night, and again when I met him on the beach. When I get around him I feel like the same silly love-struck girl—the one he turned away because he was smart enough to know how impossible it was. He'd turn me away again, and I'd look like a fool again.”

“You don't know
what
he'd do, Sunny. Isn't it better to risk getting a no than to never know at all? You certainly can't go on like this. You're killing yourself. And leaving it this way can mean you'll never be happy with Blaine, and that isn't fair to him, is it?”

Sunny shook her head, covering her eyes again.

“There is one more thing you need to consider, Sunny, and that's the two men themselves—their qualities, what they can give you in the way of love and support, what they want from you in return. I hate to put it this way, but as long as we're talking this out, do you really think Blaine loves you for
you
?”

“Yes, yes, he loves me.”

“How often does he
tell
you he loves you?”

Sunny looked at her, blinking back more tears. “Not often, but he tells me sometimes.”

“When it's convenient, I imagine.” Vi rose. “Sunny, you of all people understand men like Blaine. You've run in their circle all your life. Men like that do what's best for their career and their fortune, and love has no place in their lives, not if it gets in the way of their power and prestige. Sometimes I don't think you understand just how important you are in the eyes of the general public. You're a famous woman, Sunny—beautiful, rich, eligible, acquainted with the wealthy and powerful. Do you think Blaine hasn't considered those things in choosing you for his wife? He's preparing to run for governor of New York. A man like that has to have the right woman on his arm. Do you honestly think you'd be breaking his heart if you decided not to marry him? I personally think he'd go find some other pretty little thing who came from a wealthy background, maybe the daughter of another industrialist or a congressman or anyone else who has power and influence.”

“He loves me, Vi. I'm sure he loves me.” Sunny leaned back in the rocker.

“And would he still love and marry you if you lost your fortune?”

“I don't know—”

“Yes, you do, Sunny. He'd drop you in a second! But not Colt Travis. He couldn't care less if you came to him in rags and carrying a tin cup! And that's the difference between them, a very important difference. You aren't made to marry for convenience, Sunny. You're too softhearted, too giving when it comes to your personal life. Even if you chose not to pursue your feelings for Colt, I don't think Blaine O'Brien is the right man for you. There
are
a few men of his stature who really would marry you for love, Sunny. I'm sorry, but I just don't happen to think Blaine is one of them.”

Sunny sighed deeply, looking at the diamond Blaine had given her, remembering the look in Colt's eyes when he had noticed it. She shivered at the memory of how it had felt to be so close to him. She could still remember the smell of man and leather. How could a man's scent be that enticing when he had been fighting and sweating, when he was nothing but his raw self, wearing no fancy men's cologne like Blaine wore?

“I don't know, Vi. I have to think about this very deeply before I allow myself to see Colt again.” She met the woman's eyes. “I can't believe you're telling me these things.”

Vi walked back to the hearth. “I should have said them a long time ago, at least about Blaine. I tried, in my own way.” She looked over at Sunny. “For years I've watched you do what everyone else thought was best for you, Sunny—inadvertently, you have even gone along with what Vince wanted. I have no doubt he's told you the kind of man you should marry. For the first part of your life Bo Landers told you how to act, speak, dress—he brought you up in a man's world, and you've never quite known how to be a woman.” She looked back at the fire. “I don't think Blaine is the man to teach you about that part of yourself.”

The meaning of the words sent a near-painful wave of desire surging through Sunny's blood.

“Sometimes when it comes to matters of the heart,” Vi continued, “risks are worth taking. I'm sure society didn't think Stuart should have married me, but he did anyway. Of course the difference between us isn't anything like you and Colt, but I certainly wasn't the glamorous, fabulously wealthy woman everyone
thought
a Landers should marry.”