Agnes and the Renegade (Men of Defiance) (16 page)

It was late afternoon when she emerged from the tent to wash her brushes. Chayton was taking the jerky down from the drying ladder. He straightened when he saw her. She drew a sharp breath, struck by his appearance, his very primal nature. The way his hair moved as he moved, the look in his dark, serious eyes.
 

“The meat is dry. I am packing it away for this winter.”

Winter. Aggie wouldn’t be here, unless she accepted him as her husband. The thought of never seeing him again caused her physical pain. She went inside the cabin and started preparing their supper. No matter what happened, she would never forget him. Or this time. Not just because he was the focus of so many of her paintings, but because he had etched himself on her heart.
 

* * *

Aggie took two cups of tea outside that evening. Chayton sat on the bench beside the front door. She paused at the threshold. The wood of the cabin behind him shone in warm orange and brown. He was watching the setting sun. The ridges of the mountains were darker shades of lavender, blue, and purple that contrasted with the pastel pinks and oranges filling the sky. Chayton looked over at her, giving her a small smile in greeting. Nothing was untouched by the sunset, not even him. He wore his buckskin tunic and necklaces. His black hair was loose and long over his shoulders. The lowering sun brought out red and blue highlights in it. It warmed his skin and cast blue shadows beneath his necklaces.

She handed him one of the mugs she carried. He took it, lifting his free hand for her to sit next to him. She did, snuggling close, touching him from hip to knee. He was warm, and the evening was cool despite the warm glow of the setting sun.

She looked up at him, and he down at her. She felt as if she was all that he saw—incredible when she thought of the show the sky was putting on.
 

“When you look at me, what do you see?” he asked, his voice quiet.

She glanced at his face, his hair, his body. “Many things simultaneously. I see colors. Beautiful colors that should clash, but instead they complement each other. But it isn’t only colors that I see. There is a mood about you. An energy. It’s powerful, generous, controlled. I feel as if I could survive on your energy without ever needing food.”

His smile became wistful. He looked west, toward the mountains. Aggie bent her legs, resting her head on his shoulder and her knees over his thighs. She curled into him, holding her mug in the cup of her hands. He wrapped his arm around her and leaned his face against her hair.

“I think Father Sky sees in colors, too, when he gazes down at Mother Earth. He does not judge but simply basks in what he observes. It is a good feeling.”

Aggie sat in the quiet glow that came from Chayton. He could be so still, like wind caught in the act of being. It was one of the big differences between them. She was always racing ahead, looking at the future, becoming something. But he was always being.
 

“Chayton, was your wife an Other?”

“Yes. She could weave energy. Not everyone can do that, but all can feel the result of that. The great warriors of our people would commission her work for their warshirts and ceremonial clothes. Maidens would bring their dance dresses and shoes to her so that she could weave the correct energies in with the beadwork she applied. She taught Logan to sense those energies. She was highly revered among our people. Many maidens were apprenticed to her so that she could teach them how to do what she did. Her death was a great loss to my people.”

Aggie smiled and lifted a hand to touch his chin. “Logan said you had the gentlest soul of anyone he’d ever met. I didn’t believe it that first night.”

He pressed his lips together as he considered her words. He said nothing for a long time. Aggie set her cup down and shifted against him, leaning her back against his chest as she watched the setting sun. She threaded her fingers through his where his hand rested on her shoulder.

At last, he broke the silence. “I will be a gift to you, Agkhee.”

She shifted around to hug him. “You already have been.”
 

His arm tightened around her. He smelled like wood smoke from the fire he’d been tending and well-worn leather, heated by his body and the last rays of the setting sun. He captured her cheek with his free hand and kissed her forehead, her temple, her cheek. Aggie turned slightly, touching her lips to his. Their noses pressed against each other. She was practically sitting on his lap now. She leaned forward to hug him, enjoying the feel of a solid man in her arms and not the empty weight of an imagined lover.
 

“Agkhee, I would like to take a journey with you.”

She smiled. “All right.”

“Tomorrow, we will travel into the Valley of Painted Walls.”

“That sounds beautiful.”

He nodded. “It is. It is a secret and sacred place. Logan is the only white man who knows about it.” He looked down at her. “It is there I will make you mine.”

She frowned. This was why she had a knot in her stomach. “Do you mean wife or lover?”
 

“Wife and lover.”

“Forever?”

“For as long as I breathe.”

She studied him a long moment. His statement earlier hadn’t been random. He meant a real marriage. Each bonded to the other. Once married, she could stay here and paint him until the need had run its course. And when she turned her focus to another subject, he would be with her, guarding her, feeding her, seeing her safely back to her shell after her work binges.

The next morning, they rode east for a few hours, keeping the sandstone bluffs on their left. After a while, Chayton turned them toward the pine forest that was thickening around the base of the mountain. They climbed up, following a trail that was uncomfortably steep. Aggie was leaning forward, almost against the horse’s neck. Now and then, her mount would stumble, leaving her with terrible thoughts about tumbling down the mountain, crushed by the horse and rocks below them. She decided that on the homeward trip, she’d go down on foot. This ride, in reverse, had to be ten times worse.

Eventually, their path leveled out…into a narrow trail navigable only by mountain goats. Her eyes locked in an unfocused way on the ground at the bottom of the ravine, far, far below. Her breathing grew increasingly shallow. If she didn’t ask for help now, she soon wouldn’t be able to communicate. Or move. Or breathe.

“Chay—” her first attempt to call his name was softer than a half-exhalation. “Chayton. Please. I can’t do this.”

He made a sound that caused his horse to stop, a reaction that slipped through the packhorse and back to her horse. She slammed her eyes shut. The only thing worse than walking this narrow ledge was not walking it. The wind alone would blow them off this peak.

Warm, firm hands freed her reins from her frozen grip. Her thighs tightened on the horse’s sides, making it shift its weight side to side. It couldn’t go forward with the others stopped. Chayton set a hand to its neck and spoke to it in a calming voice.
 

“Lean into me,” he directed, a hand behind her back and another under her knees. “I have you.” She made her stiff body shift toward him, wondering as she did so who had him. Behind him was the bottomless ravine.

She squeezed his shoulders and buried her face in his neck. He walked a nonexistent path next to the horses and hoisted her up on his horse, then swung up behind her. He leaned forward and picked up the reins. She felt his thighs squeeze his mount, then they started forward again. She faced away from the wide valley to their right, keeping her eyes shut and her face against his throat.

“I never meant for my Other to be scared.” His voice was a low rumble against the side of her head. “I will not let you fall. There is nothing you need to fear here. Breathe. Breathe in the air that is so cool and the sun that is so hot. Agkhee, open your eyes.” Every time he said her name, he drew out the last syllable in a long sigh.
Ag-khee
. “We are high, like eagles flying. Open your eyes and feed your soul.”

How could she not when he made their cliff-side perch sound like a blessing and not a death sentence? He held the reins of his pony in his left hand. His right arm was wrapped over hers, his hand spread wide over hers. She felt his strength, his utter lack of fear. She opened her eyes and watched the craggy wall they slowly passed. Still facing away from the deep ravine below her, she drew a long breath, then slowly released it. She held her body perfectly still, but turned her face into the sun.

“Did you know you could fly?” he whispered.

She couldn’t answer. No words were equal to the majesty of the natural beauty spread out as a feast for her senses. She was glad Chayton’s hold on her was still firm, because she did feel as if she were flying.
 

“Will you paint this for me, Agkhee?”

She nodded but didn’t speak, didn’t want to break the spell of what she was seeing. In too short a time, they began their descent into the valley below, following a switchback trail that led them down into a pine and aspen forest. Her mind was buzzing with possible compositions.
 

Chayton let her ride with him until they reached their destination—a shallow cave in a granite outcropping about twenty feet deep. A flat ledge of the same rock provided a natural overhang that extended over a bare campsite, hidden by the boulders and trees.
 

Chayton dismounted, then lifted her down but didn’t immediately release her. She eased her hands up his arms to his shoulders, then into his hair. He wore it braided in the front and loose in the back. She slipped her hands through his black mane.
 

“Thank you for bringing me here,” she said. He smiled and leaned forward to kiss her. Their lips just touched when Aggie pulled back to frown at him. “Though I already fear the return trip.”

“I will hold you going back. I won’t let my Other fall down the side of a mountain.” He gripped the back of her head, holding her in place as he bent over and kissed her. Aggie tightened her arm around his neck and held him while he deepened the kiss. His hand moved from her cheek, down her side. She wondered if he would make love to her here, now.
 

“Agkhee…” He straightened his hold on her, letting her stand upright without releasing her. He leaned his face against hers. “This is another place I frequently stay. Let us get your painting items arranged so that you have everything as you need it when you are ready to step out of your shell.”

She laughed. “It’s called painting.”

“It is not painting. I have painted before. You are taken by visions. It is the
Wakȟáŋ Tȟáŋka
talking to you.”

Aggie smiled up at him and set her hand over his heart. “I love you, Chayton.” The words spilled out without any forethought on her part, startling both of them.

He caught her hand and kissed her fingers. “I am yours, Agkhee, as you are mine. I did not think I would love again, but you have shown me the way to feel my heart once more.”

A round fire pit sat at the mouth of the cave. Inside the narrow dwelling area, a heavy skin strung across a low wooden frame made a narrow cot. A shelf that was dug out of the cave wall held a few different vessels and baskets. Clusters of spices hung upside down over one end of the shelf. A thick buffalo robe was folded on one end of the shelf.

She helped him unload her easel, rolls of canvas, sketchpads, pencils, wooden stretchers, tools, paints, oils, varnishes, jars, and brushes. Touching her equipment made her itchy to get started, though something whispered she hadn’t seen yet what she most needed to paint.
 

Chayton went to hunt some small game for their supper. She swept out the cave floor using a rough broom that was propped near the shelf, and shook out the big buffalo fur, then set it on the cot along with the other blankets she’d packed. She put the food she’d brought nearer to the fire pit, then stowed the satchel of her clothes under the cot.

When she’d made the space as tidy and organized as possible, she went out to collect firewood. With all the cottonwoods in the area, it was plentiful. She brought several armloads into the cave. She’d only packed a few kitchenware items: a pot for stew, the tin pot and cups for coffee, and a bucket, which she grabbed before leaving to get water.
 

The valley was protected from the wind that sometimes blistered the high ridges above, leaving the woods still and quiet. And green. Aggie had seen the narrow river when she went for firewood, and she headed in that direction now. Somewhere near her, a twig snapped. She stopped and listened. Deciding it must have been a squirrel or some small forest creature, she resumed her walk toward the river. Again she heard something, someone, walking near her. She remembered being confronted with the mountain lion up by Chayton’s other cave. Was it a big animal that followed her through the woods? A bear?

She checked the woods behind her as she asked, “Chayton? Is that you?” No answer came back to her from the green quiet of the forest. She held herself still for a long moment, searching the space around her. Maybe she should bring up extra firewood when she was done with the water. She certainly didn’t want to have to fetch more in the dark of the night. She continued on toward the river. She heard an animal sound off to her side, a strange, deep snuffling. Her heart began to pound. What was that?

She could hear the river ahead. She would be out of these woods in a few more steps. She hurried her pace, but even as she did, a rumble shook the ground, a deep, thundering bass that she heard and felt. She leaned back against the base of a wide cottonwood as the sound swelled around her. Something moved to her left, then to her right as large animals ran through the woods. Horses. She straightened, no longer frightened—now she was stunned. When the herd had moved beyond her area, she followed them down to the water.
 

She stopped for a minute to watch them, keeping within the cover of the woods. She’d never been this close to a herd of wild horses. It was a large group, maybe three dozen. And colorful—a strange mix of roans, buckskins, paints, sorrels. They looked smaller than quarter horses, more short-legged, like mustangs. She was surprised they tolerated her presence. She edged past them, following the line of woods, hoping to move upstream without exciting their interest or alarming them.