Tumbleweed Fever, Part 2 by LJ Maas 3 страница

"Are you sure I shouldn't draw you a map or something…how will you be able to get around?" The young woman asked.

"I have many skills, Mrs. Tolliver" The rider answered, lowering her voice an octave, and pulling her hat down snugly preparing to leave the corral, heading toward the north ridge.

The look the rider gave her, as she reined the horse's neck to turn the animal, sent a thunderbolt like jolt right through Sarah's body, the heat of that impact focusing itself right between her legs. I'll bet you do, Miss Brown…I'll just bet you do!

Devlin pushed the door open to the room near the back of the house and lit the lamp on a small wooden table by the bed. She looked down on the floor at the end of the bunk to see a small chest. It was the same container Sarah had gone through in the barn. Kneeling down and lifting the lid, Devlin saw shirts and assorted pieces of clothing. On the top of the clothing lay an unopened bottle of Kentucky Bourbon. The rider didn't know whether she wanted to throw the stuff back in the woman's face or take her in her arms and never let go.

She picked up the bottle, tossing her hat on the chair, as she pulled two notes from her pocket. She opened the bottle and took a long swallow, letting the smooth liquid slide down her throat, infusing her belly with its warmth. Leaning her long frame back upon the bunk, she held the paper up to the light. She'd been surprised that she found two of the notes this far south. Doing her best, she slowly read the words aloud.

There is only the night sky to talk to…no one else to share my smiles and my tears.

I wish there were someone…some nights I wish there was anyone.

My head is filled with thoughts of a dark warrior riding a pale horse.

One day the warrior rides over the ridge and carries me off, and I am safe in strong arms.

I will wait for forever…waiting for the dark warrior…

Dev reached out and gently brushed her fingers across the worn and dirty parchment, her hand crossing a spot that looked as if the ink had been blurred from a single teardrop. She unrolled the next note and began to read, even though she couldn't really understand why her hands shook slightly as they held the parchment.

No one has ever held my heart; not the way that I dream of…

Is it wrong to wish for a lover that can captivate my heart as well as my body?

Too long have I waited for the warrior of my soul…I am thinking that I will always be alone,

Staring at the stars and listening to the wind whisper through the trees…

All that my heart desires is right here; I hold it in the palm of my hand,

Still it means so little without someone to share it.

Dev pulled off her spurs and kicked off her boots, rolling over to let a warm puff of breath blow out the lamp. Her body was tired and her eyes ached for sleep, yet it was a long time in coming. When the rider finally slept, the woman haunted her dreams, only this time she had long hair the color of wheat and smiling emerald eyes.

Dawn was another hour away when Sarah pulled herself from her warm bed. Days like these, she wished she had no chores or obligations, no one to fend for but herself. On these days, she swore she would pull the covers over her head and stay in bed until the sun was high in the sky. But this wasn't one of those days, and she had mouths to feed and a ranch to run.

"That is, if Devlin Brown lets me." She said aloud.

She washed her face and brushed her hair, pulling it back into a braid. She knew that she'd been acting like a petulant child last night and hoped the bottle of her father's best had been accepted as a peace offering between herself and the rider.

She sat up into the night, reading, until she heard the rider's horse enter the corral. She surprised herself at how quickly she fell asleep after that, knowing that someone was indeed watching out for her. At first, she bristled at the thought, that she might need "looking after." Then for some reason she remembered the blue fire in the rider's angry eyes as she stepped in close to the young woman and the possessive look in her eye, right before she laid the drunken rider out with one punch. She didn't want to admit it, not even to herself, but deep down, she rather liked the feeling.

Devlin paused with her saddle thrown over her shoulder and Alto's blanket in hand as the door to the cabin opened. The sun was just peaking over the ridge, the valley still in the throes of night. Sarah walked toward the rider, wiping her hands on a small towel. It seemed as if neither woman knew what to say to the other.

"You'll at least eat meals with us, Miss Brown?" Sarah asked awkwardly.

Dev smelled the tempting aroma coming from the kitchen and her stomach rumbled. She raised her head and grinned slightly. "Yes, ma'am."

As the rider walked through the door to the cabin, both women breathed a silent sigh of relief at the truce that had been formed between them.

The rider hadn't eaten this good since she stayed at a hotel in Kansas City. Steak, eggs, and biscuits and gravy, if she ate one more bite she wouldn't fit through the door. Dev sat and sipped her coffee while sneaking small looks at the woman who talked and good-naturedly teased her children.

Dev wasn't much for small talk and at first, the young woman's chatter made her nervous, but now, sitting there watching the family's interaction, Sarah's voice and easy laughter acted as a balm to the rider's heart.

"What will you do today, Miss Brown?" Sarah looked across the table at the rider.

"You got cows ready to calf. I put 'em in the pastureland at the bottom of the hill. Need to make sure no wolves or big cats show up. They'll stay away if they see humans around 'em, though." Dev took another swallow of her coffee, "Might need some help…you up for it boy?" Dev nodded in Matthew's direction.

Matt's eyes lit up and he tuned to his mother. "Can I mom?" He asked excitedly.

"Of course you can as long as you do everything Miss Brown tells you." Sarah answered looking at Devlin. "You will watch out for him, won't you?"

Dev swallowed down the rest of her coffee, reaching over to tousle the boy's hair. "More 'n likely he'll watch out for me," she said, standing to leave. "Ma'am." She said in Sarah's direction, tucking her hair up into her hat.

"You comin', boy?" Devlin said as Matthew jumped up to follow the tall rider.

Sarah looped a sack of food around the saddlehorn of her son's mount. "You do everything Miss Brown tells you, is that clear Matthew?"

"Yes, ma'am." The boy answered, spurring his horse in line with the rider's.

"She givin' ya last minute instructions, was she, boy?" Dev smirked.

"She told me I should do everything you tell me, Miss Brown," Matt answered.

"Smart woman…only don't call me Miss Brown, makes me feel like a school teacher, which I ain't." Dev raised an eyebrow at the boy.

"But, mom calls you Miss Brown," Matt said, somewhat confused.

"Well…" Dev searched her brain for an answer, "guess that's 'cause she's a lady," Dev said in answer to the boy's confusion.

"You're a lady too," now Matt seemed more confused than ever.

Dev threw her head back and laughed loudly. Looking over at the boy's face turn even redder, she laughed again. Slapping his arm in a friendly gesture, she gave him a Cheshire cat-like grin.

"Trust me, son…I ain't no lady!"

It was midday by the time the rider and her new companion stopped for a break. Devlin had to admit the boy had the makings of a good cattleman. He worked hard and never complained. The tall rider appreciated the boy's silence, so different from his mother, in that respect.

"Your mom always cook like this?" The rider asked the boy as they leaned against the rough bark of an oak tree.

"Yup," Matthew answered with his mouth full, "good, huh?"

"Damn good," the rider answered. Looking up suddenly from her meal she grinned at the boy.

"Don't you start using language like that, boy, or your mom will take after me with one of those Winchester's she's got over the mantle."

Matthew laughed at the dark-haired woman. He drank from his canteen and silently watched the rider. His body was already sore, but he wasn't about to admit it to the woman. He liked being with her almost as much as he had enjoyed going out with his father. There was something about this tall woman that put him at ease. He knew she'd work him until he dropped, but he also felt safe and protected around her.

Dev had her eyes closed slightly, but she could still feel the weight of the boy's stare. This boy was a hard worker that was for sure. Still, he had an uphill battle, his father already gone at his age.

A crack echoed through the air and the rider bolted upright waiting for the last reverberation to fade. The young boy looked at her questioningly as Devlin jumped to her feet.

"Get on your horse, now." She said.

She didn't have to say it twice as the two jumped into their saddles and quickly rode back toward the cabin. Alto galloped along at full speed and quickly outpaced the boy's black gelding. It was if the horse felt the waves of concern that flowed from the rider. Devlin knew the sound of a Winchester rifle when she heard one.

Dev pulled Alto up hard in front of the large barn, throwing dirt and rock into the air. The rider, along with her young companion hadn't been too far away from the cabin, but it was long enough for Sarah to have already replaced the prized Winchester back over the mantle.

Devlin threw her right leg over the saddlehorn and effortlessly slid from the mare's saddle, while Sarah and Hannah looked somewhat surprised at the two riders. The dark-haired woman followed Sarah's eyes and finally saw the culprit lying on his side near the chicken coop. Dev walked over and nudged a large fox with the toe of her boot. Bending down, she sat back on her heels and whistled through her teeth.

"Good God, woman…you got him right between the eyes," Devlin said in a mixture of surprise and appreciation.

The rider lifted the fox up by the scruff of the neck as Hannah shyly scooted closer to get a better look.

Sarah smiled a small knowing smile. The rider had surprised her by galloping into the ranch, but Sarah didn't say a word. She felt surprisingly safe around this rider that made most grown men nervous. Sarah also felt something she couldn't quite understand at the rider's praise. She felt flattered.

Sarah felt an unexplainable heat creep into her cheeks and she turned away, but not before Devlin saw the blush on her face.

"Contrary to popular belief, Miss Brown, I'm not completely helpless," Sarah remarked as she stepped inside the cabin.

Dev just stood there taking in the young woman's words, still holding the unfortunate chicken thief by the neck.

"Boy, you remember why I told you not to swear in front of your mother?" She asked.

"Yep," Matthew grinned, "so she wouldn't take after ya with her Winchester."

The rider took a long look at the cabin, then the fox, a bullet hole placed perfectly between the creature's eyes.

"Boy, don't ever tell that woman I taught you to swear!" Dev looked up at Matthew with a lopsided grin and winked, just before she walked off to skin the animal, letting another low whistle of appreciation slip through her lips.

It was already late in the day, Devlin and Matt took turns riding over to the herd that was calving. The rider had skinned the fox and was showing the young boy how to cure the pelt when Sarah's voice came up behind them, a tinge of concern in her tone.

"Miss Brown…I think we have visitors." Sarah said looking out across the plain.

Dev never looked up from the animal skin she was working on.

"Yea…they've been out there for a while now. Probably trying to figure out if it's safe to ride in." The rider looked up at Sarah with a hint of mischief in her eye, "no doubt they've heard about you fine marksmanship skills, too." She finished, returning to her chore.

Sarah gave her a little smirk. "Then you're not worried?"

"No ma'am…they're Choctaw. They probably want to trade…maybe need some beef."

"We have plenty," Sarah started, "if they're hungry we could cut out a side of beef for them."

"No." Devlin said, more harshly than she intended. She stood and in a softer voice explained.

"They wouldn't accept it anyway…it would be like charity to them. Choctaw always trade. If you give them something, they have to give you something of equal value in return. If you give a Choctaw something he can't possibly return in value it would be a great insult. They'd go hungry rather than accept charity."

"That doesn't make much sense," Sarah replied without thinking.

Devlin looked at the smaller woman before replying.

"It does to them. What doesn't make sense to them is why the white man would come into their world and kill off all the buffalo, a creature that was wild, free, and plentiful, only to replace it with a smaller, dumber version that we have to take care of. It doesn't make sense to them that we put fences around land that's meant for everyone. What doesn't make sense to them is why we want to try to make nature better."

Dev finished as the two women stared hard at one another. Sarah saw the blue fire rage in the rider's eyes as she realized how stupid her statement actually was.

The smaller woman brushed a lock of hair from her eye and looked absolutely contrite as she glanced up at the dark-haired woman.

"I'm sorry…it was a pretty arrogant thing to say, I spoke without thinking." Sarah finished.

Before the young woman had the words out of her mouth, Devlin's gaze softened. The tall rider looked into the face of an angel and felt her own heart miss a beat. Her icy stare melted into azure pools and she curled the corner of her mouth upward into a half-smile. She couldn't resist teasing the sweet creature that stood before her, so solemnly.

"Guess it's hard to keep track of your words when you say so many of them." She teased, lifting her Stetson and running her hand through her hair, replacing it with a jaunty air.

Sarah opened her mouth for a sharp retort, but immediately closed it again. She looked over at Devlin and saw a smile on the rider's face. It was the first time she had seen the rider display such a sparkling smile and she felt her heart flutter. She's absolutely beautiful when she smiles like that. Where in the world did that come from?

Sarah pushed the silent thought from her mind and slapped the rider on the arm.

"Very funny…you won't be smiling when you have to make your own breakfast in the morning!" she laughed and walked toward the corral fence.

Good, God…did she just hit me? It took Dev a heartbeat to register the interaction, but she heard her own voice laughing as she followed the young woman.

"What are they waiting for?" Sarah asked, as leaned against the fence rail, feeling the rider's presence next to her.

"An invitation. They won't come in if they aren't welcome." Dev looked down at the young woman and continued. "The Choctaw are an amiable people. If I'm not around that's one way you'll know it's them…they'll never ride up to the cabin unless they already know you."

"How will I know the friendly Indians from the hostile ones?" Sarah asked.

Again Dev looked down at the young woman, this time the rider's brow furrowed in concern.

"You'll know," the rider said soberly.

"So, do you want to meet your neighbors?" Devlin asked.

"Yes, please," Sarah said excitedly.

Devlin afforded herself the luxury of smiling at Sarah's youthful exuberance while the smaller woman's head was turned. The rider felt a swell of appreciation developing for such a kind-spirited woman. Grabbing her hat by the brim Devlin waved the party closer.

"Kantakiya," Devlin said to an older man that led the party.

"Kantakiya, Redhawk," the old man returned.

Sarah just stared open mouthed at the rider as she carried on a conversation with the eldest of the group. She felt this woman beside her knew just about everything and everyone in the Oklahoma Territory, but now she was certain of it.

"Ko ah tay, Sarah Tolliver," Dev introduced the young woman.

"Close your mouth and say hello," Devlin chastised teasingly.

"H-Hello…" Sarah stammered.

"It's…Kantakiya," Dev said the word slowly.

Sarah repeated the word up to the old man, smiling sweetly.

"Redhawk, kia tay no see ah squa." The old man said to Devlin with a smile, prompting laughter from among the other braves.

Devlin's eyes darted back and forth from Sarah to the band of Indians, a hot flush rising up to the rider's face.

"What did he say?" Sarah asked, noticing the flush of color on the rider's bronze skin.

"He's just trying to be funny," Dev answered shortly.

Sarah heard a sound behind her and turned to find Matthew and Hannah standing in the door of the cabin, their mouths as far open as their mother's had been. Sarah called them to her and Devlin introduced Matthew, but seemingly ignored Hannah, who clung to her mother's skirt.

A young Indian not much older than Matthew spurred his horse closer and looked down at Matt. The Indian boy's eyes were on the knife that Matthew had strapped through his belt. He wore the knife on his hip, just as Devlin had showed him to do earlier that day.

Dev watched the exchange between the two young men.

"Come here, boy," she called, positioning Matthew in front of her. The rider rested her hands on the boy's shoulders, lifting her head to speak to the brave on horseback.

"Ko es risa too a may," Devlin said, motioning toward the boy's knife.

The brave was young, and tried to hide his excitement.

"Ato," he nodded to the dark rider.

"He wants to trade you for your knife, boy" Devlin said to Matt.

"For what?" Matt asked.

"That's your call. You've got to see if he's got something you want as bad as he wants your knife."

Devlin kept her voice, as well as her face, impassive while giving the boy instruction. This way it would look as if she were only translating between languages. It was very important to these people that a boy Matthew's age already be able to bargain effectively. It seemed important to the rider that these people take the boy seriously.

"He's got a swell belt on," Matt finally said.

"You think you like it well enough to give away a knife for?" Dev questioned.

"Well, I don't think I could ever make one like it." Matt answered.

Dev liked the way the boy had thought the trade out. A good trade was not always for something you needed, but something you couldn't get any other way. It would take many years for Matt to learn to weave a beaded belt like the one this young brave's mother or sister probably gave him. Likewise, the metal bladed knife was a coveted item among Indians because there wasn't any way they could walk into a white man's store and buy one, even if they did have the money.

"Pull out the knife and say the word, ato…that means yes," Dev said, watching as the boy did as he was instructed.

The young brave smiled and slid from his horse, holding both his empty hands out, palms facing upward.

"He wants to know what he has that you want." Dev said to Matthew.

Matt pointed to the intricately beaded leather belt the other boy wore around his waist.

The young brave smiled broadly, " Te on oh atay," he said pointing to his own belt. "Ki ah mena…risa too a may," he finished pointing to the knife.

"He wants to know why he should trade such a wonderful gift from his cousin for your knife." Dev repeated the brave's words.

Matthew didn't know what to say, but he didn't want to look at the rider for help. He had a feeling that might look like he didn't know what he was doing to the Indians.

"You need to show him that it's a good knife…show him how sharp it is," the rider explained. Hold your hand palm down and run the blade lightly across the top of your hand…he wants to see how it cuts."

As soon as the words were out of the rider's mouth Sarah attempted to take a step forward to stop the boy's actions. Dev's hand shot out and grasped the woman's arm above the wrist and held her firmly in place. Sarah stared at the rider, but Dev didn't return the look. She gave the young woman's arm a gentle squeeze, not removing her hand, but letting her fingers rest lightly around Sarah's forearm. Dev was trying to stay focused on what was going on around her, when all she wanted to do was close her eyes and give in to the temptation to caress the soft skin beneath her fingertips. Instead she held the woman's arm against the outside of her thigh and tried to concentrate on the outside world around her.

Sarah had been terrified at what the dark-haired rider was asking her son to do. She was about to put a stop to the whole thing when Devlin's hand reached out and stopped her. Sarah's first reaction was to pull away from the woman's grasp, but when the rider tenderly squeezed her arm, Sarah's breath caught in her throat, trying to ignore the tingling sensation where the taller woman was touching her. Devlin hadn't yet let go of Sarah's arm and when the young woman's son sliced a light cut across the top of his hand, Sarah reached up and wrapped her fingers into the strong ones of the rider.

Even as the older men were nodding their approval of Matthew's trade technique; the tall rider was merely trying to focus on gathering air into her lungs. All involuntary movement in her body halted the moment Sarah entwined her soft fingers into the rough callused hand of the rider. And, when the two boys exchanged their goods, the rider felt the small hand within her own relax, but make no move to pull away.

Devlin shook her head to get back to the reality of the situation.

"Now, hold out your hand and shake hands by grabbing onto his forearm." Devlin instructed.

Once this action had been performed, the deal had been made and both boys were congratulated on a good trade. Again, the older Indian watched the interaction between Sarah and Devlin and took notice of the small woman's hand held firmly in the grip of the tall rider.

"Redhawk, kia tay no see ah squa…no tay ahna?" The older Indian said to Devlin, again to smiles from the other braves.

Dev stood her ground this time, and neither turned red nor released the gentle grasp she had on Sarah's hand. She straightened up to her full height and looked straight into the old man's eyes.

"No ata wa," she said tapping her own chest with a slender finger, her lips pulled back into a feral smile "squa kiso oma a tay." Devlin finished by pointing to all the young braves in the party," Too ah komatay, squa…te ah Redhawk."

Sarah watched the exchange and knew the conversation had something to do with her, but she couldn't grasp any of the language. She knew the rider had taken control of a situation that involved Sarah. Suddenly, the young woman's eyes lit up with understanding. She saw the hungry stares some of the young men were directing towards her, she watched the taller woman's body language, and heard the tone of possessiveness in Devlin's voice. There was no language barrier when it came to emotions and Sarah didn't need a translator to tell her that the rider had effectively warned the men that Sarah was a woman that already belonged to someone.

The young braves laughed out loud and a tall, muscular young man, who had been staring at Sarah the whole time, was slapped on the back by an older man next to him.

"Redhawk, oma a tay!" He laughed again at the embarrassed younger rider, who winced when the older man bumped up against his left arm.

When her eyes were drawn to the muscular youth that was being taunted by his companions, Sarah gasped with a loud intake of breath.

Dev's hand tensed around the woman's as she followed Sarah's eyes. The sleeve of the young brave's buckskin was colored in blood, which now began to drip from the soaked leather.

"You're hurt," Sarah said with some measure of concern to the young man on the horse.

Then, before Dev could hold the woman back, she slipped from the rider's hand clasp, and moved to the injured brave, reaching her hand out to tenderly examine the young man's wounded arm.

Sarah had the brave's hand in her own before Dev could reach the young woman, and the young man had a look that was nothing short of terror placed on his face, not daring to insult the forward woman by pulling away. The brave's eyes pleaded with Dev, however, as the rider gently pulled Sarah's hand away from the young man's,

"But…" Sarah looked up at the Indian and then back to Devlin, "he needs help."

Sarah stared at the rider who made no move to explain.

"Oh, I know…let me guess. I can't touch him because I'm a woman!" Sarah exclaimed, a flash of temper showing as her eyes sparked green fire.

Devlin wanted to laugh out loud at the priceless expression of righteous indignation on the woman's face. Good, God, Sarah Tolliver…what you can do to me with just a look.

"Yes, but it's not for the reasons you're thinking," the rider slowly explained. You're an unmarried woman. In his eyes, it's beneath you to tend to his wounds."

Devlin realized, by the confusion written on Sarah's face that her message wasn't getting through to the young woman. She looked down at her boots and swallowed hard when she realized, once again, she still held the woman's smaller hand within her own.

"Mrs. Tolliver…Sarah, these people hold women in very high esteem, especially unmarried women." She didn't know any better way to explain it than that.

Sarah felt trapped in a whirlpool of blue, staring into the rider's clear blue gaze, processing the information she had been given, and feeling a little embarrassed at having lost her temper so quickly. The rider's eyes narrowed and suddenly Sarah felt the taller woman's pulse quicken under the fingers that lay across the rider's wrist. When she looked down, Sarah realized she had begun to stroke the outside of the dark-haired woman's hand absently with her thumb.

Immediately and without warning all the air in the rider's lungs simply disappeared. She became completely unaware of the people standing around her as she lost herself to the pleasurable sensation of Sarah's skin stroking her own. Devlin attempted to open her mouth to speak, but was quickly halted when she realized that Sarah was looking at their hands, completely cognizant of the fact that she had been caressing the rider's. Oh, God, the rider groaned to herself. She knows…but, she's not stopping.

Devlin knew if she didn't stop this now, she'd quickly do something that would humiliate her, Sarah, or the both of them. With agonizing slowness, she unwillingly extricated her hands from the smaller ones that continued their feather light touches.

The reality was that a mere few seconds had ticked by during this exchange, but to Devlin and Sarah, each caught in their own emotions, time seemed to have gone on forever. One of the horses shook his head, the bridle jingling against his neck. The sound pulled the two women back into the present world, remembering the injured young man.

"I am a widow…doesn't it count if I was married once?" Sarah asked the rider.

It took Dev a second to get back to the place in the conversation they had been.

"You have no mate now…that's all they see." Dev answered.

Sarah smirked up at the tall woman, arching an eyebrow as she did. It was frustration over the situation that led her to what she said next.

"I would have thought you handled that when you told them I belonged to you." She finished smugly.

The rider froze. "I…uh…but, I…" She was completely at a loss. How could she have known? Did she understand when I told them she belonged to me, could she tell what I was doing when I warned each of the braves that I never share what belongs to me? Does she even understand why I did it?

Дата добавления: 2015-10-30