This Loving Land - Dorothy Garlock [65]
The fact that Slater assured them a tighter guard had been put around the house raised Sadie’s spirits. That and the fact that the men considered her somewhat of a heroine, applauding her bravery and teasing her about being afraid to get her riled. She went about almost as cheerful as she had before Travis’s visit, and it played on her mind to tell, now, about his threats, but for some reason she held back.
Slater worked hard during the day. His mind was easier about the women, now that Jack, Bulldog or old Raccoon spent their days at the “little place.” At night, no matter how tired he was, he rode over to spend an hour alone with Summer. They would walk down by the cottonwood tree, and as soon as they were out of sight of the house she would go into his arms.
“My God, you are sweet,” he murmured. “You are a thing of beauty, my summertime girl.”
She was filled with love for him, and passion, and when his lips touched hers she drew hungrily on them in return. Strength seemed to ebb from her limbs and her heart careened when he whispered passionately:
“I love you . . . I love you. I would say more convincing words if I knew them. You are my life . . . my soul. . . .”
She did not need to reply. She offered him herself, and although his strength was ten times hers, he handled her gently, stroking and kissing her until she felt half-unconscious.
In the weeks that followed, when they felt they would burst with the terrible pressure of wanting each other, they would hide away and come together in the final act of love. Each time, it was as if they died just a little and were reborn together. Summer was wildly excited about the love she shared with Slater, but yet, at the same time, a new peace was born within her. She had given Slater her love unashamedly from the depths of her heart, and now life without him would be intolerable.
It didn’t take long for the days to roll into weeks. The Fourth of July came and went without a celebration, due to Pud’s slow recovery and the men working sixteen hours a day.
It was the first part of August, a hot afternoon, when Jack rode in to tell the girls that a troop of soldiers had come into the valley and were on their way to the ranch.
Sadie and Summer were in the midst of grinding corn. It had been through the grinder once, but needed to go through once again to be right for bread. Corn-grinding was one of their hardest jobs, and they both wanted to get finished with it. The cornmill was fixed to a post under a shade tree and had two cranks on it. The mill would hold about a peck of corn, and during the grinding the air was full of chaff that stuck to their damp skin. They were not in the mood to greet visitors and told Jack so.
Summer looked down at her arms covered with the fine corn powder.
“They’re not coming here?” Her voice was almost a wail of despair.
“Not fer a spell anyhow.” Jack’s face broke into a grin at their sudden panic.
“Jack, you are the beatenest man I ever did see!” Sadie scolded. “Why in the world didn’t you come and let us know sooner?”
“ ’Cause I didn’t know sooner, that’s why.” He threw his leg over the saddlehorn and watched with amused eyes. “But don’t get in no twitch. They’ll bivouac down thar a ways, but I ’spect the captain and Jesse will come to supper if’n they have an invite.”
“Jesse?” The name came from Sadie unexpectedly.
Jack’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment he looked steadily down at the white face until her lips tightened and she tossed her head in irritation.
“Jesse Thurston is with the army.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so, ’stead of sittin’ there like a wart on a hog’s ass?” Her green eyes met his squarely