Eagle’s Song (25 page)

She heard a knock at the door then, and moments later Henrietta Mead came to her room to tell her a man had come to see her. “It’s that young attorney we met at the governor’s ball, the Indian one with the strange name of Hawk. I believe you said you knew him when you lived on a reservation with your brother years ago.”

Arianne could not suppress the rush of joy she felt. A true friend from the past, Hawk represented something stable in her life. “Yes!” She wiped at her eyes. “I’ll go down to the parlor. Would it be all right if I had the maid bring something? Tea perhaps?”

“Of course, dear.” Henrietta pressed her arm. “You don’t need to ask permission for such a thing.”

“I know, but I feel as though I’m putting you out. With Edward gone, I just couldn’t afford the house. It took every ounce of our savings to make the down payment. I guess we just thought with the wonderful new job Edward had, money would always be there.”

Henrietta, a plump, ageing woman with a kind heart, led her out of the room. “Arianne, you need not keep explaining. Dr. Mead was very fond of Edward. That’s why he brought him to Denver. He’ll take care of you as long as necessary.” She sighed. “He’s so upset over this. I worry about him, Arianne, at his age. He feels so guilty for what happened, for bringing Edward to Denver.”

“My goodness, he shouldn’t.” Arianne suddenly realized how old Dr. Mead was. He could die, and then where would she be? Even Henrietta might be in trouble then. She followed the woman down the wide staircase and into the parlor, where Hawk turned from the fireplace to greet her with a sad smile.

Henrietta left them to give the maid some orders, and Arianne suddenly realized she hadn’t even taken a look at herself in the mirror first. She hadn’t worn any makeup since Edward’s death, mostly because she didn’t care about how she looked, also because she cried so much it was useless to powder or rouge her cheeks. Her hair was drawn back into a plain bun, strands of it falling around her face, and her eyes were puffy from crying. “Hawk! I’m so glad you came.”

He stepped closer, aching at seeing the drawn look to her, the circles under her eyes. He noticed she’d lost weight. “I thought I’d wait a few weeks before I came to talk to you. I’m so damn sorry, Arianne. This is a terrible waste of life, and you with a little girl to raise. It must be hard for you.”

She nodded. “I appreciate the flowers you sent to the funeral home.” She turned away. “I’m sure I look terrible. I’m afraid I’m not in shape for a visit.” As a firm hand came to rest on her shoulder, a strange warmth moved through her, a kind of peace, as though she suddenly had nothing to worry about.

“How you look is the least of my concerns, and this isn’t just a friendly visit to express my sympathy. I want to talk to you about something.”

She turned to meet his gaze, moved by his handsomeness and the true concern in his dark eyes. She remembered how intense and caring he’d been as a young man, seemingly one in spirit with his horses. “What is it?”

He urged her to sit down. “I might have a way of awarding you some money. You must be having a hard time of it, and I’m sure it’s a bit awkward having to live here with the Meads.”

When the maid brought a tray of tea and cookies, Hawk waited until she left before continuing. He sat down beside Arianne on the loveseat, and she poured each of them a cup of tea while she spoke. “How strange that you should come here concerned about money. I was just worrying about that very thing upstairs, as I put Joanna to bed for her nap. I have to find a way to support myself now.” She handed his cup to him. “I won’t take handouts from people. I hope you haven’t come here to give me money, because I won’t take it. I might be a woman with a child and no means of support, but I’ll manage.”

He smiled as he took the cup. “I didn’t come to give you money. But I figured things would be hard, and Dr. Mead is getting old himself. If something happens to him …”

She shook her head. “It must be the Indian in you.”

“What?” He frowned, curious.

“Oh, that spiritualism or whatever it is your people have—that way of reading other people’s minds or something. Maybe because of our past we’re spiritually connected or something. All I know is I was just thinking about the very things you’re talking about, and suddenly you’re at the door.” She drank some of her tea. “What on earth are you planning, Hawk Monroe? Are you going to offer me a secretarial job? I probably wouldn’t be very good at it. I’ve never done anything like that, and I have a new baby to care for.”

“I’m not here to offer you a job.” He set his cup down and took her hand. “But I do think I can help you in another way, if you’re willing, and if you’re strong enough to go over this whole crime in public, relive the nightmare of it.”

She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

He squeezed her hand. “I want to sue the city.”

Her eyebrows arched in surprise. “What!”

“Sue the City of Denver, for not doing a good enough job of aiding the needy, finding jobs for them, seeing that they’re housed and fed, bringing more law and order. As far as I’m concerned, this is partly the city’s fault. I think you’re owed some kind of recompense. I want to file a lawsuit on your behalf against Denver. I’m not sure it’s ever been done before, but many people are furious about what happened, and we’d have them on our side. The lawsuit could put enough pressure on the authorities to force them to give you something for your loss, to help support you. At the same time, maybe we’d get some laws and programs that would help clean up this town. What do you think?”

She was flabbergasted at the suggestion. She rose, pacing for a moment. “I don’t know. People in high places might hate me for doing such a thing.”

“I don’t think so. Everyone, rich and poor alike, is
upset by this. People are afraid to walk the streets, even in wealthier neighborhoods. We can do this, Arianne, I’m sure. It isn’t the money that counts, it’s the principle of the thing, but the money would certainly help you.”

She folded her arms, facing him. “How much are you talking about?”

He grinned, rising. “I intend to make a strong point, make this a memorable case. My aunt’s husband, Joshua Lewis, is a top man at the
Rocky Mountain News
. I know he’ll help by publishing some positive articles about the matter, and all the newspapers are already full of headlines about changes the city needs to make. I think we should try it, Arianne. You being a woman with a young child wins you even more sympathy. I’m going to ask for a hundred thousand dollars.”

“A hundred thousand!” Arianne gasped. She threw up her hands. “That’s ridiculous!”

He stepped closer. “You always ask for a lot more than you expect to get. That’s how the system works. You might only end up with twenty, maybe forty thousand. God knows this city can afford it. It used those poor people to bring gold and silver out of its mines, the gold and silver that built this city. It owes them some help, and it owes
you
some. I’m going to get some cash for you.”

She shook her head, pacing and thinking. “I can’t believe you’d do this! I mean, you must have friends in high places who will be upset by such a suit. And you being part Indian …” She sighed. “I mean, you know what I mean. You could make enemies.”

He grinned. “I’m not worried about that. I don’t intend to stay here forever anyway. And my law firm is behind me. I already discussed it with them. I don’t think this will work against us, Arianne. I think people are for this. And as for enemies, my family has been
facing and conquering enemies since my grandfather first married my grandmother. There isn’t much we’re afraid of.”

Old feelings began to touch her heart again. Hawk. Her Hawk. That was how she had always thought of him. So brave. So caring. She stepped closer. “All right. I’m willing.”

He grasped her hands. “Good!” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I won’t fail you, Arianne. I owe you a little something myself, for the way I treated you just before I left the reservation.”

She shook her head. “That was a long, long time ago.”

Their eyes held, both realizing there could have been something between them if not for the tragedy that had taken Hawk away from the reservation.

I loved you, Hawk Monroe. I still do, in spite of how I loved Edward
.

I think I could love you, Arianne
.

It was there, in the eyes, but this was not the time to speak of such things. Now was the time for mourning, a time to respect the dead and a time for daring to go after the City of Denver. “We’ll win this,” Hawk told her.

Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Knowing you, I have no doubt, Attorney Monroe.”

Twenty-two

Wolf’s Blood watched his young wife, her head thrown back in ecstasy, her long, black hair hanging to her bare hips, her full breasts a pleasure to touch and behold as she sat over him, a wild, beautiful thing, rocking rhythmically. It had come to the point where most of the time this was the only way he could make love to her. The pain in his joints was worse again, and constant. It was simply too difficult to bed his wife the traditional way, and that hurt his pride. He knew instinctively that this time the pain was not going to get better again. One more winter. That was all he could give her.

She leaned back again, grasping his forearms as he grasped hers in return, hanging on while she moved in a gentle rocking, taking him inside her moist lovenest. He loved her, hated the thought of leaving her, especially now that they had two children. Little Eagle was nearly eight, and his beautiful little girl, Laughing Turtle, was four. There had been another child, a son who had died two years ago from a coughing sickness.

The infant’s death had affected Sweet Bird so deeply that it had been many months before she could make love again. Wolf’s Blood understood. He also understood that if they did not live in this remote Indian village in a land where there was no help for people like themselves, perhaps the child would have had the
proper medical help and would have lived. This new family of his deserved better, and it was getting close to the time for him to die, before this arthritis killed him the slow way. Who would take care of his wife and children then?

He studied her naked beauty. Bearing three babies had not changed her exotic radiance. Her skin was still flawless, her dark eyes full of passion, her full lips as fetching as ever. He never wanted her to be lonely or destitute, nor did he want such things for his children.

He released his life flow, groaning with his own pleasure when he could no longer hold back. Sweet Bird let out a long sigh, leaning down to rest her head beside his on the pillow. Slowly Wolf’s Blood pulled out of her, but they remained lying close. “In the spring I will take you to my mother,” he told her.

Sweet Bird lay silent for several long seconds. “So soon?”

Wolf’s Blood kissed her hair. “I have already given you more years than I had thought possible. You have always known this time would come. I do not want to wait until I cannot even be a man to you this way. You are still young and beautiful, but with your father dead now, and the village dwindling away, I cannot leave you here. In this place, not even the government will help you. My family has money now, thanks to my nephew Zeke, and my brother Jeremy. But if you would rather live on a reservation, my brother Jason can probably help you be accepted at one. I hope that one day you will find a good man to love you”—he began to choke up and hesitated for a moment—“as I have loved you.”

Sweet Bird shivered on a sob. “There will never be another like you, a grand warrior from the days of freedom. I have learned much from you.”

He stroked her hair, breathing deeply to stay in control of his own emotions. “Our young men have to
learn other ways of being a warrior, like my son, Hawk. What do you think of him, Sweet Bird?”

She sniffed. “I … I am not sure what you mean.”

He sighed. “You are sure. He is most handsome, don’t you think?”

She wiped at her eyes. “How could he not be? He is your son.”

“And he is the same age as you. He is a successful lawyer, all Indian; yet he knows how to live in the white man’s world. He will be able to take good care of a wife and children. I wonder if he has found a woman yet.”

Sweet Bird scooted back a little, frowning at him. “Are you saying I should go to Hawk? I hardly know him! It is you I love, not your son.”

Wolf’s Blood studied her beautiful face. “I am only saying that I will ask him to care for you and our children until the day comes that you belong to another. Perhaps after a while …” He smiled softly, kissing her. “It is only wishful thinking. If my son were to fall in love with you, it would be almost the same for me as still being with you. I would like that. But at first I will take you to my mother, on the ranch where it is quiet. It would be hard for you to go directly to a place like Denver. We have lived here, far from nowhere, for a very long time. The children will have much adjusting to do. The ranch will be better for them in the beginning, but eventually it is their big brother, Hawk, who should guide them in the right pathways.” He touched her cheek, hating the sight of his swollen knuckles. “Hawk told me once he felt he should marry Indian, but that in his circle there are no Indian women, so he has not taken a woman to his side. And you, my love, being Indian, our children being Indian, you, too, should marry Indian.”

“I do not want to think about any man but you.” Sweet Bird nestled against his chest, causing tears to
drip onto his skin. “I do not want to talk about your going away, or what I should do with my life after that.” She kissed his chest.

Wolf’s Blood sighed. “Just tell me one thing, woman. When first you set eyes on my son, before you realized who he was, what was your very first thought? Do not lie to me.”

Sweet Bird smiled through her tears. “You are teasing me.”

He smiled wryly. “I will tell you what you thought. You wondered, for one brief moment, what it must be like to be married to someone young and strong like Hawk. His handsomeness took your breath away for one quick second. You were attracted to him. True?”

She lay there quietly, knowing he would sense it if she lied. “Only for a moment.”

He chuckled, moving a hand over her bare back and hips. “You would not have been a natural woman if you had not noticed him that way. When he visited us, I saw how he looked at you sometimes, and I did not mind. I was proud to call someone so young and beautiful my wife, and he knew that. The way he looked at you, it made me think he could see you as more than his father’s wife. Promise me you will leave that pathway open to him.”

“He may not want to walk down that pathway. Perhaps he has already taken a woman. Perhaps he has lived in the white world so long that now he is not so against taking a white woman, if she will have him.”

Wolf’s Blood stared at the pole beams that supported the cabin’s ceiling. “I have been down that pathway, and so have many of his relatives. His white stepmother was killed because of white men’s hatred of the Indian. He knows the troubles his relatives have gone through by marrying into the white world, knows of the long struggle my mother went through being married to my
father. I do not think he will want that for the woman he chooses to love, or for his children to be torn between two worlds. I know that struggle all too well. Hawk is really more Indian by blood than I am, because his mother was a full-blood Apache. In his heart he knows what must be.” He hugged her closer. “I love you, my wife. I will love you to the end of my days and beyond. Please understand what I must do … and why I must do it … and why I speak to you this way about my son.”

She shook with more sobs. “I understand.”

“Zeke, look at this!” Georgeanne carried the latest edition of the
Rocky Mountain News
into her husband’s study, where the air hung rich with the smell of pipe tobacco. The many petticoats of her taffeta day dress rustled as she approached the desk where Zeke sat studying the latest figures pertaining to his gold mine and the many investments he’d made at Jeremy’s advice. She handed him the paper, pointing to an ad.

Zeke looked up at his wife, taking great satisfaction in being able to give her the life she deserved. Their children played in a nursery, where a nanny watched them. The ranch was flourishing, and their home was one of the finest in the Fort Collins area. Its varnished wood floors shone from daily dusting by a cleaning woman, beautifully setting off the bright Oriental rugs that decorated them. He thought how perfectly Georgeanne fit into this home he’d had built for her, and he wished her father could see her now.

“What’s this? More news about my cousin’s case against Denver?”

“Not this time. It’s an ad—land for sale. Read it.” Georgeanne shivered with excitement, sitting down on the leather chair near his desk, waiting.

Zeke did so.

Zeke rubbed at his chin, setting the paper aside. “Well, well, well. So, your father has decided to give it up.”

“He always talked about how much he missed Georgia. Maybe he’s thinking of going back there. It’s been over thirty years. He has a brother there. Now that he knows I’ll never return to him, he’s apparently decided to leave Colorado.” Georgeanne rose from the chair. “Zeke, this is our chance!
We
have to buy that land! Just think of it, after what my father did to you. All his land could end up belonging to you, legally! Not by inheritance. All you need to do is send someone there to act as a buyer. Only when that land belongs to you will I go to my father, just to see the look on his face when he learns the truth! We have the money. We can do it!”

Zeke turned to study her. “I’m sorry you’ve never been able to have any kind of relationship with him, Georgie. It isn’t right.”

Her smile faded. “And it isn’t your fault. It’s his. Not even the fact that you are now a rich man has made any difference to him. He still refuses to accept you or to be a grandfather to our children.” She turned and walked to a window. “I’m sure it irks him to know you struck gold on that pitiful piece of land he made
fun of, and it must infuriate him to see the fine home you built for your parents back at the ranch. This would be the final insult, Zeke, to buy up all his land!” She faced her husband again. “Let’s do it!”

He grinned and nodded. “I’ll call Jeremy and talk to him about it, see what he thinks it’s worth.” He thought how handy the new telephone service was, all the way to Denver. It was amazing that a piece of wire stretched on poles could carry a man’s voice that far. His next goal was to get a telephone installed at his parents’ ranch.

Georgeanne came closer. “I was hoping my father would try to sell that land before he dies. He still has a lot of years ahead of him. I want him to spend them realizing the man he nearly killed—to keep him away from me—bought him out, lock, stock and barrel.”

Zeke frowned in a rather chastising look, rising and grasping her shoulders. “I swear, woman, you want revenge worse than I do.”

Georgeanne reached up and touched his face. “He took away six years of our lives. I’ll never forgive him for that, nor for putting those scars on your chest and back and nearly killing you. I am ashamed to call him my father.”

Zeke pulled her close, crushing her against his chest. “Well, I am very proud to call his daughter my wife.” He leaned down and met her mouth in a kiss of love that led to one of celebration as the reality of it all began to sink into him … he could buy up all the Temple land—own it! What more perfect revenge could there be, other than having the pleasure of killing the man? That was what his grandfather Zeke would have done, but the days of a man taking his own course with another man were over. He would defeat Carson Temple the legal way, by buying his land and home right out from under his nose! He picked
up Georgeanne and carried her to the door, kicked it closed, then locked it.

“Zeke, what are you doing?”

He carried her to the leather couch and settled her on it, then pushed her skirts and petticoats up to her waist. “I am celebrating with my woman.”

“Zeke! Here? Someone might come!”

“The door is locked.” He pulled her drawers down over her high-button shoes and moved between her legs.

“Zeke Brown! We can’t do this!” She teasingly pushed at him as he unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants.

“Oh, we’ve done this hundreds of times.”

“Zeke!”

He smothered her protests with a kiss. Grasping her bare bottom and pressing himself against her teasingly, he invaded her mouth with his tongue, drawing breathless desire from deep within her. When he broke off the kiss, her face was flushed, her eyes liquid with passion. “You still protesting?”

“Don’t tease me one second longer,” she whispered.

Zeke grinned, reaching down and guiding himself into her. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, arching up to greet him, glad she had dared to marry this man who gave her so much pleasure, both physically and emotionally, this man who had given her a life far beyond their wildest dreams, and with whom she had produced two beautiful sons. This was one of the things she loved about him, his spontaneity, the way he had of making her feel so desirable, the manliness that made her want him so easily.

What a wonderful way to celebrate, by mating with this man whose love her father tried to destroy! Nothing could destroy true love. Zeke’s grandmother had told her that once, and she’d been right.

* * *

Outside the winter winds howled, yet the courtroom was packed. The case of
Mrs. Edward Ralston
v.
the City of Denver
had dragged for months, the City Council stalling for one reason and another, determined they should not be responsible for paying one dime to Mrs. Ralston “for whom we have the deepest sympathy,” as they had publicly stated. “But we cannot be responsible for every crime committed in our city; no city is free of crime.”

“That is not the point,” Hawk Monroe had argued in the courts and in the newspapers. “The point is that Denver has too long ignored its poor and desperate, people with no work who have children to feed and who often turn to crime. We cannot allow Dr. Ralston’s death be in vain by not devising ways to help the poor, nor can we allow his wife and child to become as destitute as those very people.”

The case had been the topic of discussion and political moves since the trial had begun, and today, in spite of bad weather, people had turned out in too great numbers for all of them to fit into the courtroom. Today a Supreme Court judge for the State of Colorado would hand down his decision in the matter.