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April 21, 1874
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was well past dawn when I woke to the sound of my sister's dry-heaves as she bent over the chamber pot. I lay motionless until she finally crawled back onto the bed, and then I yawned and sat up, stretching my neck and shoulders. "Cat?" she whispered. "Yeah?" "Would you please quit spinning around?" "I'll try my best," I agreed amiably, getting up and putting on my robe. "My mouth tastes like somebody stuffed dirty socks into it." "And you're sick at your stomach, and your head feels like it's about to explode," I suggested mildly, splashing water on my face. "Do you feel this way, too?" She moaned. "No, but Zach probably does." Picking up my brush I ran it through my curls. "Those little champagne bubbles go straight to the brain, babe. And they make you pay when you overindulge." "I had three glasses of wine--at the very most," she protested. "McShane lads acquire the ability to hold their liquor, luv--they're nay all born with it. And wee lasses don't have the same head a'tall for the drink as a brawny six-footer." I mimicked the light brogue that colored my father's speech, the faint remnants of his own grandfather McShane's Scotch-Irish accent that had largely disappeared in my generation. "Do you want a wet cloth?" "I want to die," she mumbled miserably. "The urge will eventually pass." I plopped my pillow over her eyes to shut out all of the light. "Did I make a fool of myself last night?" "Only when you opened your mouth," I kidded. "As far as I could tell you only THOUGHT about getting up on the bar and dancing." "Oh, God," she groaned. "And you told me all about how my choice of those 'purely handsome' Lausenstrom men was wallowing around with a whore." I grinned. "I believe you said that he pinched her nipple." "I said all of this in front of Zach?" "To the best of my recollection, darlin', it was in front of both Erik AND Zach." I continued to bedevil her while searching underneath the bed for my lost slippers. "Tell me that you're only teasing," she pleaded. "Rest," I ordered. "I'm going to check on Zach, then I'll bring you some juice." Leaving our room, I knocked on Zach's door, eliciting a pained invitation for me to come in. Viewed against the white sheets, his skin had a greenish pallor that was visible even with the small amount of light coming in around the closed draperies. "Feeling pretty awful, huh?" "Yeah." His voice was slightly hoarse from the dryness in his mouth "Are you mad?" "No." I smiled slightly. "It was a special night, and nothing I could possibly say about moderation would be more of a deterrent than the way that you and Beth feel this morning." "Beth's sick?" "She's in roughly the same shape as you are." Going over to the washbasin, I poured water over a cloth then brought it back to lay over his forehead. "Possibly worse, since she has more alcohol in her system for her size than you do." "Mostly, I got a bad headache," he confessed. "But I'm pretty sure it's from last night...not the kind I been havin' since I fell." "Let me know if you start to feel the way that you did before. The laudanum seems to be more effective at controlling the pain if we get a dose into you early on." "Hope I've had the last of those." "So do I." I sat down next to him on the bed. "I owe you an apology for the way that I fell apart at the clinic yesterday--right when you needed me most. I'm sorry." "You hadn't broke down and cried all day," he recalled quietly, removing the cloth so that he could look at me. "There was no more room in you for holdin' it back." "I don't know if I could have gotten through this without you," I confessed. "Not only the trial itself but everything that's happened recently." "Glad to hear I've been good for something." He sighed. "I've felt pretty useless as far as helpin' Pa." "You've done more for him than you know, simply by being here." I turned his hand over and looked at the small wounds on his palm where my fingernails had broken the skin. "As for me, Beth would have been screeching to high heaven and pounding me over the head with a hymnal if I had tried hanging onto her this tightly in court yesterday." "I kept thinkin' it shoulda been Pa, Uncle Erik, and me up there behind Daniel. Nobody looks more like either one of them than I do. If it hadn't been for this cast on my arm, they wouldn't have had to use Preston and risk him maybe doing somethin' on purpose to give it away." "Mr. Lodge had his own reasons for hating the Walkers. The last thing that he would want to do is plant a seed in anyone's mind--or call attention to himself--by having Daniel point him out as the killer. It was a brilliant strategy on Erik's part to use him, given that he couldn't use you. Beside..." I grinned as I gathered up a fistful of his long locks for emphasis. "If your hair had been ruined along with Hank's, Beth would probably have marched into Daniel's office and shot him dead on general principle." "Why didn't you show up for the party?" His eyes searched mine. "Pa wanted you there real bad. He kept lookin' for you for hours." "Zach...honey... God knows, I will never love anyone else the way that I love your father. I have feelings inside of me for Hank that are so strong that sometimes I wonder how I am going to manage to live the rest of my life without him." I struggled to find the right words. "But I have to find a way...which means that I have to leave here. I have no other choice. Living in the same town with him would be unbearable--wanting something that you know you can never have...and having to watch him with other women. Even if I was able to pretend to the rest of the world that I no longer had feelings for Hank, I can't fool my own heart." "It ain't just him you're leavin'--it's me, too," he said softly. "Which makes it hurt twice as much," I admitted. "On field days, when the other boys' mothers all showed up, I used to pick out a lady and pretend that she was my ma." He reached for my hand. "Until you came along I never knew what it felt like to have somebody around, cheerin' me on and makin' me feel like I could do anything I wanted to do. You're the closest thing to a real ma I've ever had." "I told you once that I knew full well that I could never be a replacement for Clarice." Tears blurred my vision. "But I've ended up loving you as much as any birth-mother ever could. You came into my life because of Hank--but you and I are family now, with or without him." "Whether or not Pa realizes yet what he's losin', I do." "Try to sleep, okay?" I held his hand to my face for a minute, then laid it back by his side. Getting to my feet, I gently closed his door and stood with my back pressed against it, silent sobs shaking my body. Despite the fact that I was too young to have given birth to him--and now I would never become his stepmother--Zach Lawson belonged to me, and me to him, as surely as any parent-child bond in existence. We had filled a need in each other-- the love that I had to give to a family of my own falling on the fecund soil in the heart of a boy who had lived too long in an all-male world. Not having him as a part of my life would hurt almost as much as losing Hank. Gato's insistent "Wrarrgh-wrargh. Wraarrgh--Wraargh!" as he pushed himself against my ankles, weaving in and out between them, could no longer be ignored, and I fed both cats and let them out. After building up the fire in the stove I prepared a pot of coffee, then retrieved tomato juice from the pantry. A tall glass of juice, accompanied by several slices of plain toasted bread, was quietly placed next to the beds of each of my suffering housemates before I started the daily chores. Still in my robe, I went outside to give Maggie and Zeke their breakfast, then picked up my egg basket. There was only a light frost on the ground, but the air was cold enough to make my breath visible as I headed toward the barn, intent on finishing all of the necessary tasks as quickly as possible. "Morning." Erik greeted me, smiling. Without access to a comb or oil, he had raked his fingers through his hair--pushing it loosely back so that only the tips of his earlobes were showing--and several strands tumbled over his forehead into sky blue eyes. The shadow of a beard roughened his strong jawline, and with the top two buttons of his shirt open and his sleeves rolled up to expose muscular forearms dusted with blond hair, the virile masculinity of the handsome man standing in front of me almost took my breath away. I stopped, the memory of that late night kiss making me blush. "Good morning." "I thought that I would get some of the chores out of the way, since I doubt that you're going to have any help from Zach for awhile." Dragging my eyes from the breadth of his shoulders, I noticed that Erik had already fed, watered, and turned out the milk cow and horses to graze, mucked out the stalls, and had just finished tossing down fresh bedding straw from the loft. "They're both a bit worse for the wear," I admitted. "If experience is as grand a teacher for them as it was for me, they should now have a healthy respect for the power of wine." "Did you ever get to sleep?" "Finally." I swallowed hard. "What about you?" "I spread those blankets over a pile of hay in the back of your wagon and slept like a baby until the horses and cow started complaining that their morning meal was late." He grinned. "There's coffee ready on the stove, if you would like to fix yourself a cup while I bring in the eggs." "Sounds good to me." Erik slung his jacket over his shoulder. "Do you need any kindling split before I go?" "Have a heart." I laughed. "No axe noises this morning." "Do you have any idea at all of just how beautiful you are when you laugh?" Flustered by his words, I felt my cheeks stain crimson. Chuckling softly he wrapped one arm around me, pulling me up against his chest for a warm, friendly hug. "Pretty lady, that was nothing but an honest compliment," he vowed lightly. "I know where your heart lies, and I would never try to come between you and Hans. But if he doesn't make you his wife, given enough time, I mean to come calling. Regardless of how similar we look, the two of us are very different men, and I think that you would find it a lot easier than you realize to begin to see me for who I really am--Erik, not Hank." Looking up at him I read genuine admiration in his eyes--along with recognition of the fact that if anything more than friendship was possible between us it would have to wait for the far distant future. He winked, gave me a brotherly scruff of the hair on top of my head, then walked toward the porch, leaving me to stare after him in confusion. Although I couldn't imagine a time when I would ever stop loving Hank--and if I did, I wasn't convinced that I wanted to fall in love again--if it did happen to me a second time, I hoped that it would be with someone like Erik...someone who was nothing at all like his mulish younger brother. Forcing myself not think about either man, I scattered corn in the chicken coop to lure the hens off of their nests, then scooped up the brown-speckled eggs. By the time I had finished refilling the water pans there was smoke drifting out of the chimneys from the fireplaces in the main room, Erik had drawn water, washed his face and hands at the pump on the side porch, and he was warming his back at the fire, a coffee mug cradled between his palms. "Hungry?" I poured coffee into my own cup. "Have you ever met a Lausenstrom male who wasn't?" "I suspect that there's at least one right now who's not all that interested in food--for a change." I washed my hands, took down the canister of flour and measured out two cups, added a pinch of salt, soda, and baking powder, and began to sift the dry ingredients together to make biscuits. "I opened the door and checked on him when I first came in. He's sound asleep." "Thanks for helping out in the barn." Using the tips of my fingers, I worked in a small-egg-sized amount of lard until the mixture in the bowl looked like coarse cornmeal, then added buttermilk. "I enjoyed it," he confessed. "It made me think about the extent to which other people take care of my daily needs now while I go about the more 'important' business of running a law firm." "Have you always wanted to be an attorney?" I patted the dough into rounds and flattened them. "I never had any urge whatsoever to become a lawyer--but I wanted to become a factor even less," he said drily. "What did you want to do?" "A long time ago--before the War--I wanted to be a doctor. But it didn't fit in with the family business, so it was never an option." "Your father must have been quite a--formidable man." After sliding the bread into the hot oven, I put sausage patties on to cook. "Take Hans at his worst, multiple it by twelve, and that will give you an idea of what Donalt Lausenstrom was like. No one went against his wishes." "Except Hank." "Except for Hank," Erik agreed. "I hate your father," I confessed bluntly. "It sounds strange to have such strong feelings toward a dead man--especially one that I never met--but it's the truth. You can't physically and emotionally batter a child the way that he did Hank and expect him to come out of it without scars on the inside as well as on the outside." "Far was a cruel, arrogant, controlling bastard." Erik went over to the kitchen window, pulling the curtain back so that he could look at the mountains looming in the distance. "Even in the grave he still has a clutch- hold on all of our throats. He's been dead for nearly three years, and we're still not free. Not one of us has even considered making an attempt to find out if there is a better or more efficient way of doing business than the way that he did things. But that's all about to change--starting now." "Good for you." "This is beautiful country," he changed the subject, continuing to stand at the window. "I can easily see why my brother lost the urge to roam when he got to Colorado." "I've always suspected that his wagon wheels fell off at the edge of town," I admitted drily. "Why else would someone who was used to warm weather choose to live where the four seasons are early-winter, mid- winter, late-winter, and almost-spring?" "When it's 103 degrees in the shade back in Savannah, and the air is so thick with humidity that clothes can hang on the line for three days and still never dry, you'll be wishing that you were back here." "When pigs fly." I browned flour in drippings left by the meat to make peppered cream gravy while eggs poached in a second skillet. "I'm having a hard time believing that you're as eager to leave here as you pretend to be," he observed quietly. "Believe it." "Because of what you think is going to happen now--after your testimony in Court yesterday?" "That's one of several reasons." I gave a curt nod. "Some of the local women were already cutting me dead on the street simply because I was engaged to Hank. The irony is that prior to the time when Reverend Timothy arrived probably two-thirds of the people born here were lying in their mother's arms when their parents said their wedding vows in front of a preacher. All I've ever given to Hank Lawson is my heart...but in the eyes of this town I'm damaged goods, and nothing that Hank or I said, even under oath, will change their minds one iota." "If there had been any way that I could have been sure of clearing Hans without putting you on the witness stand, I would have. I hope you know that?" he asked gently. "We both did what we had to do." I tightened my mouth grimly. "You're not only a lady, you're one hell of a woman, Cait. The kind that doesn't come along nearly often enough. When you and Hans finally tie the knot, I'm going to be awfully pleased to be able to call you my sister." He smiled. "I'm NOT marrying Hank!" I corrected him irritably, blowing a wisp of hair back out of my face as I pulled the biscuits out of the oven. "I mean nothing to Hank Lawson. I was a fool to ever think that he truly loved or needed me, and I would be an even bigger fool if I allowed myself to be vulnerable to that man again. Case dismissed! Now would you please make yourself useful and set the table?" While I filled platters with food, Erik carefully lined up silverware next to our plates and napkins, moved the coffeepot to the table, and retrieved the jam and butter from the pantry. He waited until I removed my apron then held out my chair, seating me before taking the place at the end of the table. "I'm sorry for snapping at you," I apologized wearily. "Letting go is--terribly hard." "There's a reason for that." "Have some biscuits." I thrust the plate of steaming hot bread underneath his nose, hoping that food would distract him from an unwanted topic of conversation. "Mmmmm." He bit into a biscuit, then sighed with pleasure. "Zach was right." "Right about what?" "You do make biscuits that are good enough to convince a man he's died and gone to Heaven," he teased. "This settles it...you're going to marry one of the Lausenstroms--either Hans or me or Zach. Take your choice, as long as I can live next door and have permission to eat breakfast at your table every morning." "You're offering me Zach, too?" I asked in amusement, passing him the gravy. "Unless Beth is as good a cook as you are, she'll have to give him up, if he's the one that you want." His eyes twinkled with merriment. "The mother in me needs Zach--the woman in me needs Hank," I admitted quietly, my cheeks turning pink. "One wants me--one doesn't. Unfortunately, they come as a package deal. By the way, you've never told me how your family reacted to the news that Hank has an 18 year old son." "I think that it was a real eye-opener...of how much time has slipped away. Mother sent a telegram, inviting the two of them to come to North Carolina--to stay for as long as they wanted." "Do you believe that they might possibly go?" "Zach will at some point--if only to visit with you and me. As for Hans, it's anybody's guess." Erik shrugged slightly. "He's been gone longer than he lived there. Our sisters were eleven and twelve when he left--Dyre now has a grandson--and Mother is quite frail. I think that part of Hans would like to see the family at least one more time, but he also has to be thinking that now that he's learned to live without our approval--no longer even expects it--why should he risk being tangled up in that web and exposing himself to the possibility of getting hurt all over again?" "How did they react when you told them about Clarice?" "After all of these years I didn't think that it was important what Zach's mother was or that she and Hans were never married." He met my gaze. "What purpose would it serve to tell them?" "I totally misjudged you that first night, Erik Lausenstrom," I confessed. "I was so defensive of Zach, and so angry about the way that your family had rejected Hank, that I jumped to false conclusions." "You're like a she-wolf with newborn cubs when it comes to being protective of either one of them." He smiled in understanding. "I see nothing to apologize for in that. I consider them both extremely lucky." "A 'she-wolf' and a mule--now I know why we couldn't make it work between us," I said drily. "Once you get a mule turned around and headed in the right direction, it can go the distance--and plow a good, steady row." "You're right--I've been maligning those poor mules." I poured each of us more coffee. "He's more of a wild stallion--going out and stealing mares...his mind on nothing but mating with as many as he can." "You're the only woman that Hank wants," he objected softly. "Zach was telling you the truth--he stayed downstairs all night. As elated as he was to be free, it was a hollow victory party for him without you there." "He has told me repeatedly that he doesn't want me around. So I stayed away." "Myra was right--Hank says a lot of things that he doesn't really mean." "Sometimes he doesn't have to say anything at all--actions speak louder than words." I clenched my jaw, determined not to weep yet again. "But one of the things that I will never understand is why he lied to me. Why would Hank ask me to marry him--say that he loved me--when he's still in love with Zach's mother?" "Whoa. Hold on." Erik put down his fork. "I obviously missed something. What gave you that idea?" "You saw his reaction when Zach asked him to sing that song. The one that he hasn't played again since the day that Clarice died...and still didn't want to play, this many years later." "My daughter has a favorite song--and a favorite bedtime story." Erik's voice held the note of softness that it always had when he talked about his child. "Three hundred and sixty-five nights a year, unless I'm away from home, I go into her room, and she and I sing those same three verses...and I read to her from a book that she has memorized by heart. "When she's 25 years old, with babes of her own, I still won't be able to hear that tune without remembering that sweet, soapy smell when her nanny has Kris all bathed and dressed for bed...without remembering back to when she was my little girl--putting those chubby little arms around my neck and squeezing hard as she kissed me goodnight. Now that Anya's gone that's the time of day that I treasure most--when I look at my child and listen to her chatter, marveling that something so perfect actually came from me... When Hank broke down and cried, I saw myself in him--and him in me. It was the first time I could imagine him as a father--singing that song and reading to Zach, the way that I do to Kristen now. Feeling the same kinds of things that I do. I can tell you in all honesty that if I had come that close to losing my daughter, and I was trying my best not to fall to pieces in front of a room full of people, the last thing that I would want to have to do would be to sing her special song out loud. It would tear me apart. "Those tears that Hans shed were for Zach...and for himself...and for all that he's lost in his life. Including you." "I wish that I could believe that." "If Zach had died, I have no doubt whatsoever that it would have been the end of my brother. That Hank would have put a bullet through his brain as soon as he was out of jail and could get to a gun--or gone to the gallows and let them hang him for no reason. Without you and Zach he would have had nothing left to live for. Nothing that mattered." Erik met my gaze. "I'd never thought much about the words of that song until he sang it that day...and it was like looking at a painting of where Hans is standing right now. Hit him over the head with one of those oars and tell him to move over in the boat if you have to, but get him to row across to the other side of that water with you somehow. Up until a few weeks ago you were willing to face the disapproval of an entire town to be with Hank...don't give up now." A loud knock at the door interrupted our conversation, and I excused myself from the table, thinking that it was either Sully, Matthew or Brian, paying a call to check on me. The leftover eggs had grown cold, and I would need to cook more, but otherwise there was plenty of breakfast left for at least one more hearty appetite. "Hank," I whispered in surprise, clutching the doorframe for support as I looked up at him. There was something about seeing him dressed in his familiar black jeans, a full-sleeved shirt and a vest that made the absence of his long hair an even greater shock than it had been on the day before. "I need t'talk to ya, Caitlyn." "What about?" My voice sounded shaky, even to me. "Would ya just let me in already?" he requested. "Fine." I struggled for composure. "Come on in." "After that party last night I didn't expect to see you up and about this early." Erik stood up as his brother entered the room. "Don't reckon you expected to see me here at all--any more'n I expected to see you." Hank's gaze narrowed as it moved from the hair flowing loosely down my back to my nightgown and robe--then to Erik's unshaven jaw and tousled blond locks. "What's goin' on?" "We were having breakfast." I went to the cabinet and got down another place setting. "Why don't you join us?" "You spent the night." Hank took in the blue shirt that Erik had changed into after the trial was over. "Here. With her." "To be more precise, I spent it with Storm, Cody, two horses whose names I don't know--and a cow called Molly," Erik corrected him lightly. "It was late by the time I got Zach and Beth home and into bed, and things were noisy in town, so I slept out in the barn." "Knew you were somewheres other'n yer room last night, but I never figured on the woman you was with bein' Caitlyn." "Sit down and have some coffee, Hans." Erik sighed. "You invitin' me--or her? Or is it the same thing now?" Anger burned in Hank's eyes as he dropped into a chair at the table. "Looks to me like you been makin' yerself pretty damn cozy out here while I rotted away in jail." "If it wasn't for him you would still be rotting in jail--waiting to die," I reminded him sharply, suddenly deciding that he could do without eggs or he could eat the cold ones on the platter. Filling a plate with sausage and gravy-covered biscuits, I set it down too hard in front of him. "Eat! You've lost at least fifteen pounds since you were first arrested." "Noticed you were lookin' kinda scrawny yerself yesterday," he retorted. "Don't make the mistake of thinking that I've lost weight worrying myself sick over you." "Thought never crossed my mind. Figured you'd volunteer to be the one to push the lever when they hung me." "There were too many people getting into that line in front of me--I didn't stand half a chance of being the lucky one." "Damn it, what the hell is he doin' here? With you and him both lookin' like you just crawled outta the same bed?" he growled. "Who visits me--and when--and for how long--is absolutely none of your concern!" I responded hotly. "Could always use another girl, if yer gettin' tired of teachin'." "Is Lacy warming your blankets so often that you don't have enough of her time left to satisfy the customers?" "What if she is?" "Makes no difference to me! If she gives you a disease that makes your nose rot off, I won't be the one who has to look at you!" "Didn't teach you much about anatomy in that fancy college, did they?" "What did you come out here for anyway?" I snapped. "I wanna see my kid." "You just saw him last night." "There a law sayin' I can't see him this mornin', too?" "Why don't you two just stop it?" Erik asked quietly. "Why don't you mind yer own business?" Hank glared at him. "You're my brother--you are my business." "Got along without ya fine for more'n 20 years." "I'm not going back to where we were, Hans. Not now. Not after we've come this far--and for absolutely no reason," Erik replied levelly. "Are you so blinded by jealousy that you really don't know that nothing is happening between Caitlyn and me?" "Got no claim on her." "Then why are you so enraged at the thought that we might be lovers?" "Makes no difference to me. She's free to sleep with anybody she pleases." "Exactly!" I tossed my head angrily. "And the person who she is sharing a bed with is her sister. Not me." Erik met his gaze. "This is absurd, Hans. I told you where I slept last night--and why. If you go out to the barn you'll see the blankets that I used folded up in the wagon bed." "You gonna sit there and try to tell me you don't want her?" Hank demanded harshly. "Even if I do, I didn't save your damned neck to have to kill you myself in a fight over a woman. Especially not over a woman who's so much in love with you that she can't even see any other man!" Erik snarled, getting to his feet and throwing his napkin down onto the table before storming out of the house. The room was silent except for the ticking of the clock and the hiss of logs burning in the fireplaces as I carefully set my cup back down onto its saucer, then raised my eyes to Hank. "I think that you should go now," I suggested quietly. |
