Rocky Mountain Oasis (6 page)

Golden sunshine streamed into the room the next morning. She stretched and, sitting up groggily, batted her mass of tangled curls out of her face, wondering momentarily where she was. Pushing the covers back, she swung her bare feet over the edge of the bed, glancing around the room. Reality slammed home as her eyes collided with the brown gaze of Sky. A gasp escaped as memory flooded in. He looked as if he’d been up for hours.

He sat at the table, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, the front legs of his chair not touching the ground. One hand was wrapped around a mug of steaming coffee. The suit from the day before had been replaced with buckskin. His fringed, buff-colored shirt hung on his frame loosely, revealing the contour of well-defined muscles underneath and drawing her attention to his masculinity. Her eyes came to rest on the soft blond curls revealed at his opened collar, then darted away as she moved on to study his face.

He was not wearing his hat, and she found that she liked the transformation. His deep brown eyes contrasted nicely with his curly, clean-cut, blond hair, adding to the attractiveness of his angular face.

He tasted the coffee, his eyes on her over the rim of his mug, and when he set it back down on the table, an amused smile played on his lips.

I’m staring.
She glanced down, a blush shading her cheeks.

Suddenly she recognized that she had been
under
the covers. Her hand went to the back of her head and her eyes widened in astonishment. Her hair pins had been removed! And her shoes! Quickly she tucked her bare feet up under her skirt and began to gather her hair at the back of her neck.
What must he think of me?
She had been too tired the night before to worry about such things. She wondered at his kind treatment of her. Never before had a man treated her with such thoughtfulness.

“Sleep well? I put your hairpins on the dressing table.” He sipped his coffee casually as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

She looked away toward the window. Fear was added to her embarrassment as she noticed the late hour. “You should have woken me.”

He grinned. “I tried.” The legs of his chair rapped on the floor as he stood in one fluid motion, setting his coffee cup on the table, his face suddenly turning serious.

She felt the blood drain toward her toes in a sickening swirl. She had seen this same calm look on Uncle Jackson’s face a thousand times right before he exploded. This man had shown her more kindness than any man she had ever known, but now it had come to a swift end.

Brooke bolted up off the bed, her whole body trembling violently. “I’m sorry!” Her voice shook. “I won’t sleep so late again!”

He had begun to walk across the room, but as Brooke jumped out of bed, she saw him stop. He was only a foot from her. She tried to stand still but couldn’t seem to stop shaking.

Bringing hands to his hips, he contemplated her with a strange expression. Shoulders hunched, rubbing her palms together, she watched him warily, noticing as his eyebrow winged its way upward. He stood still for a moment; then his hand moved.

She flinched, bringing her arms up and turning her head toward the wall.

“Brooke?” He stopped once more, his voice gentle.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him slowly raise his hands, palms outward, to shoulder height.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Brooke—” he spoke her name a second time—“look at me.” His movements awkwardly deliberate, he lowered his hands to his sides.

She kept her head toward the wall, feeling foolish…realizing that if he was going to strike her, he’d have done so by now. Then she turned away from the wall, her shoulders relaxing, but could not bring her eyes any higher than the blond curls at the neck of his shirt.

“Brooke.” He waited, tilting his head down to gaze into her face.

She reluctantly raised her eyes. His look was tender, and a strange emotion pulsated in her heart. But she dared not hope this man’s gentleness was for real.

“Brooke, I was going out.” He nodded at the door, just to her left. “I would never...” His voice trailed off, as if unable to say the words. There was a slight pause; then he spoke before he moved. “I am going outside to get things ready to go. I will come back in a few minutes to check on you, okay?”

She nodded mutely, and after a moment he moved easily toward the door, leaving her alone.

Stepping out of the room, Sky leaned against the closed door, tipped his head back and closed his eyes. She had thought he was going to...hit her? For
oversleeping?
The thought was agonizing. What had she endured in the past?

He knew she’d had a nightmare in the night. He had been awake when she sat up with a start and began to cry. He had done the only thing he knew to do that would not frighten her. He had lain still in his bed on the floor and prayed for her.

Uncertainty assailed him as he realized he didn’t know one thing about her background. Yet, without a doubt, he had done the right thing in marrying her. If Jason were married to the beautiful young woman in the room behind him, her future might be the same as her past must have been. But Sky determined to give her better. He would protect her.

The thought of Jason moved him to action, and he headed outside to saddle up. When he got home, Jason would either be blind with rage, dangerously calm,
or maybe he will have seen the truth of the words I spoke to him
. That was the dangerous side of Jason Jordan these days. One never knew how he’d react in any given situation; he might be explosive and volatile one time, yet composed and lethally quiet the next. But always under the surface, in the last several years, ran a cruel, vengeful current of maliciousness.

He prayed Jason would listen to the truth as he let his thoughts wander back to the night he had learned of his cousin’s plan.…

After arriving at home that night, he’d spent a good deal of time in prayer. Heaven knew he hadn’t wanted to get involved. He’d argued with himself that it really was not his problem and, deciding he’d better just leave well enough alone, had gone to bed to try and sleep.

He had been on the verge of drifting off when the face of Victoria Snyder entered his mind. He opened his eyes, staring up into the darkness overhead.

What if it were Victoria? He sat bolt upright, his heart pounding in his chest. Victoria, his childhood sweetheart, had a caring and sweet spirit. What if this girl was like Victoria? The very thought of a girl like Victoria in Jason’s control was unthinkable. He would never be able to live with himself if he didn’t try to do something.

Getting up, he quickly penned two identical notes, then saddled his stallion and headed back to town. Jason, a permanent resident at Jed’s place, would probably be passed out in his bed by this time of night.

Praying for wisdom as he pulled up in front of the darkened edifice, Sky swung down and headed for the door. He banged loudly, then leaned his hands, fingers tapping, against the doorjamb, waiting for Jed to answer. Feeling impatient and wanting to complete the unpleasant task at hand, he pounded on the door again after only a moment.

“Comin’, Comin’! Hold your britches on!” Jed hollered from inside. When he opened the door and saw Sky, he frowned. “Shoulda taken care o’ business ’fore you left in such an all-fired hurry, ‘stead o’ disturbin’ people in the middle o’ the night. I knew you’d be back.” Stepping back, he nodded toward the door that led to the sleeping quarters and grumbled, “Go on. Jason’s in his room same as always. Conked out with his bottle o’ whiskey.”

Sky stepped past Jed, the sound of his cowboy boots loud in the stillness of the room. He did not bother to knock on Jason’s door. He probably wouldn’t wake up anyway. Opening the door, he stepped inside. Jason lay sprawled on the bed in the corner, snoring loudly, his usual bottle of booze grasped in one hand, his still-booted feet crossed at the ankle and hanging over the end.

“Jason, wake up.” Sky’s voice was firm. There was no response, so he grasped the toe of Jason’s bottom foot and threw his feet off of the bed. They landed on the floor with a thud, but all Jason did was mumble something unintelligible, smack his lips, and turn his face to the wall.

Seeing that a more drastic measure was needed, Sky scanned the room.

Picking up the full pitcher of water that sat by the wash basin, he threw its contents in his cousin’s face. Bolting upright, sputtering and choking, Jason looked wildly around the room, water dripping from his double chin as the bottle of whiskey clattered to the floor. “What the blazes!” He started to reach for his gun belt slung carelessly over the head of the bed, but Sky got there first, pulling it out of his reach.

Recognition dawned on Jason’s face as he regarded Sky through glassy eyes. “Shhkyy.” The word was slurred as he blinked hard, no emotion in his voice. “What are you doin’ here?” He ran a hand over his wet face in an apparent attempt to clear his vision.

“We need to talk.”

Jason started to lie down, waving a careless hand in his direction. “Come back insha mornin’.”

“No, we will talk now.” Sky had him by the lapels of his grimy red shirt, pulling him to his feet. Jason stood there, swaying, then stumbled after Sky as he turned and left the room.

Back in the main room, Jed, who had stoked up the fire, waited for them.

“Coffee’s on,” he said with a meaningful look in Sky’s direction, nodding to the fireplace.

Sky pulled out a chair, motioning for Jason to sit. Walking to the fire, he poured a steaming mug of thick, black coffee and set it on the table in front of his inebriated cousin. Then, pouring himself a cup, he sat down next to him, turning his chair so he could look into Jason’s face. He let Jason sip his coffee for several minutes before he said anything.

“I’ll buy her from you.” The words were spoken bluntly. Money was the only thing that might sway Jason’s mind. Across the room Jed, who had been leaning one arm on the mantle, stood erect in surprise.

“Wha...? Who?” asked Jason, his befuddled mind apparently only beginning to clear.

“The girl you are supposed to marry tomorrow. How much did you pay for her?”

Jason rubbed the heels of his hands against his bleary eyes, leaning his elbows on the table. Then, looking at Sky, remembrance flooded his face. “I’m getting married tomorrow.” The words emerged as if this were news to him.

Sky, one hand wrapped around his mug, sipped quietly, waiting for what he had said to sink in. He did not have long to wait.

“You want to buy her?” Jason rubbed a hand over his face, the stubble on his cheeks rasping as his hand passed over it. He picked up his coffee, took a large swig of the scalding brew, and grimaced.

“How much did you pay for her?” Sky asked again.

“Seventy-five bucks. Fifty to her uncle and twenty-five to the wagon master who fetched her out here. Plus an extra five to the minister, so he’d do the ceremony at Greer’s Ferry.”

Sky swirled his coffee, staring into it. He still had his seed money. He had put a lot of work into the south field, hoping to plant it in wheat come spring. He set his cup down on the table. “I’ll pay you two hundred for her.”

Jason snorted. “Not likely. Five hundred maybe.”

Without hesitation Sky extended his hand. “It’s a deal.” It was all the money he had.

Somewhat befuddled, Jason shook his hand, sealing the deal.

Taking two pieces of paper from his shirt pocket, Sky placed them on the table. “You got pen and ink, Jed?”

Jed was gone only briefly, returning with a blue ink bottle and a turkey-feather pen. Carefully dipping the pen into the ink, Sky filled in something and then handed Jason the pen, shoving the papers toward him. “Sign them.”

Jason grinned at him. “Where’s my money?”

Pulling the money out of his shirt pocket, Sky laid it on top of the papers. A light danced in Jason’s eyes as he picked up the money and fingered it.

Then, taking up the pen, he scrawled his signature across both the papers.

Motioning to Jed to come to the table, Sky handed him the pen and he signed his name underneath Jason’s.

A weight lifted off Sky’s shoulders. He had freed the girl, and he had a signed paper to prove it. Carefully folding one paper and placing it back in his chest pocket, he walked over toward the fire. Jed busied himself with stoking the blaze but paused as Jason stood from the table. Scratching his belly, he yawned loudly and shuffled across the floor, heading back to his room.