Chapter Seven
Winter's Promise
Erik's POV
The smell of bacon frying draws me from a deep sleep. Three months and I still find it hard to believe this soft bed I sleep in every night belongs to me. This ten room house belongs to me as does every stick of furniture. People live with me and work for me. Many ranch hands depend on me for employment. Among them is one who claims more of my mind during both the day and night than I feel comfortable with.
Without being able to see the scene below I can describe in vivid detail what everyone is doing in my kitchen. The children will be setting the table so as not to get under Hannah's feet. Hannah, just her name inside my head brings a clear picture of her in my mind. Nicole will be glancing at the clock in anticipation of coming to wake me if she feels I may be late for breakfast. Her blond hair will be braided but left to hang over her shoulders. Nicholas will be dressed in his oldest trousers as he will likely wheedle his way into riding out with me and the men to the field where a small drive will be taking place so that the cattle not yet branded can be marked by my brand, an angel with wide spread wings, symbolic of my own spreading of my wings.
Closing my eyes only brings Hannah more vividly to life. Her hair will be tightly braided and wound around her head and held fast with pins. Since the morning I caught her with it down she makes certain to have it done up before she enters the kitchen. I admit that I do try to catch a secret look of her on the evenings she washes her hair in the tub out back. When it rains she collects the water then warms it to wash her hair. I do feel it is a shame to torture such beautiful strands of gold into ropelike twists. As my nights have become filled with her image as I close my eyes, I do feel it is a good thing for her to keep things between us professional. Personally I rather liked her hair loose. I often contemplate just how silky it would feel and catch myself leaning into her just so I can smell its fresh clean fragrance.
It had taken years for me to develop manly feelings toward Christine even when she reached the age where girls begin to fill out in certain areas destined to attract male attention. I hadn't felt any romantic tendencies for her until one night I happened to be at her mirror and saw her brushing her glorious hair. I believe it had been shortly after her sixteenth birthday. She had been dressed in a respectable nightgown and wrapped in a robe. Nothing about her should have set fire to any lustful longings on my part but alas she set such a blaze within my loins it drove me to the very brink of insanity. Something about the stroking of the brush through her hair had awoken some sleeping beast inside of me. After that I could do nothing other than to fall deeply, madly, insanely in love with her.
Now this woman, this Hannah has me twisted in knots with the simplest of words or movements. It is hard to keep my emotions in check when she lives in my home and eats at the same table I do. While there are people living within the same walls I own I do not in any way own the people. If guilt would not eat me alive I would have thrown Madame, no, Mrs. Garrison and those two irritants she calls children out on their ears the first time I laid eyes on them. Often that idea sounds so tempting but never goes any further than an idea. Without meaning to I have formed an emotional attachment for Hannah and her children.
Groaning at the irritating thought of facing those hellions so early in the morning I find myself burrowing deeper into the warmth of a thick pile of blankets. Although it is nearing winter inside it is as warm as if I had my own sun within my home. Briefly I allow myself the memory of waking many times to the chill of my home underneath the opera house. I have spared no expense so I may enjoy every modern convenience in my new residence. It does irk me that I must share all of this with a woman not related to me and her children. Roger would have come to hear many times how much he has displeased me by not mentioning just how many people I would inherit when I purchased the ranch or the troubles that came along with it if he had not made a cowardly retreat back to New York before my arrival.
I had been prepared to see a woman with two small children but the woman I imagined and the woman who attacked me like a wild animal bore little resemblance to one another. For one thing Hannah was much younger than Roger had led me to believe or perhaps it had been my own mistake to assume she would be in her forties or older. I do remember he had said Mrs. Hannah Garrison had come out west in the first place because being near the age one could call her a spinster she had been unexpectedly tossed into dire straights with little in the way of options. She had come out west as a mail order bride hoping that would solve planning the rest of her life.
If that woman could be classed as an old spinster I must be close to Methuselah. Not being able to ask outright for her age it has been left for me to conjecture. My guess has been near twenty and five. I suppose it had been hearing she mothered two children that had added age to her in my mind. They are not her children. The man she had come out here to marry had not told her about his first wife dying in childbirth with his second child, a girl. The boy, Nicholas is six and Nicole had just turned four the month before my arrival. Glad to say I missed the big day. For whatever reason Little Miss Nicole took a shine to me the moment she laid eyes on me. I can't seem to shake her off. Even growling in my most fearsome Phantom voice does not deter her from beaming at me. The first time she took my hand and kissed it with a very wet slobbery kiss I am ashamed to say I nearly jumped out of my skin. I can remember only one other female to kiss me and I don't like to remember her too often.
Nicole has an eerie tendency to read my mind. Often she refers to an angel being lost. When she speaks of this angel her eyes are glued to me. She pats my hand and assures me with childlike certainty that the angel won't be lost for long. When I mentioned this propensity Nicole had for touching me and making references to angels finding love in relation to me, Hannah had flushed beet red dropping the skillet she had been about to place on the stove. Mumbling something about children saying whatever came to mind and not knowing half what they said she recommended I simply ignore the child.
Nicholas later informed me quite forthrightly his sister Nicole could see things others could not. His opinion on Hannah's strange reaction had been that Nicole had likely told her something about the future that had upset Hannah in some way. Reflecting on that later, my mind went into some very lurid scenarios. What else would cause a woman of Hannah's age and experience to blush like a young virgin? Of course little Nicole would not have described such things as I create in my own mind but perhaps she suggested an innocent kiss or something of the sort.
As hard as I try not to let it, Hannah's image drifts into view behind my closed eyelids even now. She cannot be classed as a true beauty but she does have something men must like as she is in demand at every barn dance held once a month at the different ranches in the area. Roland seems to have a particular interest in her which I find disagreeable. I suppose it is the case of losing my very capable housekeeper and cook if he should win her hand. It certainly is not because I harbor any hopes in that direction. Forcefully I push her image from my mind. I haven't the time to dawdle and relieve the result of such lascivious imaginings.
I must go into town to pick up my piano. I ordered it months ago and it is supposed to arrive on the afternoon train. A few other things will be on the same train to make life more comfortable. Lord what a mess this place looked when I first arrived. I nearly turned the buggy around so I might find and strangle Roger. If it would not have wasted so much of my time I would have taken the train back to New York and shown Roger just what upsetting the Phantom means.
The former owner, Clayton Garrison had been one of those easterners who came west with the idea of making buckets of money as quickly and as easily as they could. Sinking every last penny he had into this place had not been a wise decision. Apparently he knew as little about ranching as I do. The difference between the two of us being I am willing to learn and listen to those who know more than I do and I have a fortune still safely banked waiting for my use. Mister Garrison had not taken kindly to anyone advising him how things should be done. Pride had been his downfall. There had been a time when pride mingled with possessive love had nearly destroyed me. I learned from my mistake.
Mr. Garrison had brought his wife out to the middle of nowhere with no idea what to do once he had arrived. Norah, his wife had worked herself harder than a woman should while being within a month of delivering her first child. That birth apparently weakened her. At least her husband had given her a respite between children. Being malnourished the long labor had drained her thus taking the mother out of this world just as the daughter entered it. Being a widower with two small children he had little choice other than to find a wife. That is when he made inquiries back east placing ads in various newspapers. Hannah had been the one and only applicant. She herself had been desperate. Her mother and father wanted to move and hinted she should make her own way in the world. Taking care of aging parents had not equipped her with any skills other than that of a homemaker. Her brothers could not take her in as they both had families of their own and it had been years since they had seen one another.
This information, I learned by merely pretending to be interested in Mrs. Eloise Hanover's company during several dances over the last couple of months. Being a pastor's wife did not curtail her from airing everyone's dirty laundry to anyone willing to be driven mad by her ceaseless droning. How she comes by her information still baffles me. She would make an excellent agent to use during wartime to gather secrets from the enemy. No one is safe from her prying. I do have to be careful lest she delves into my own past. I tried to keep my story as simple as I could. Lies are harder to remember than a truth. I am now a survivor of a war. No one asks which one as I am French and not many are familiar with anything further than New York Harbor.
If I don't leave this bed soon there will doubtless be a small fist rapping on the outside accompanied by a surprisingly high volume shout of "Erik, Erik. Come down now. Eat breakfast now."
Nicole took it upon herself to mother me. She is the one to make sure a lunch pail is prepared for me if I am going to be out all day. My boots stay clean although she has not yet mastered how to shine them. There is still time to pass on that bit of knowledge. I have moved my chair at the table no less than a dozen times and she always ends up next to me for the duration of the meal. Those first few days I think Hannah thought the children and I were playing musical chairs. The little vixen wore me down. I let her sit beside me and as of yet I cannot say I have any real regrets. She fetches the coffeepot even before Hannah notices my cup is nearly empty. The child even knows that first thing in the morning I prefer coffee and tea for the afternoon and dinner hour. At the oddest times I find myself watching her at play and a smile creeps across my lips. She is not as bothersome as I like to pretend. If I really wanted to be rid of her all I would have to do would be to say something guaranteed to hurt her tender heart. I cannot find it in me to do that. She is a likeable child.
The boy Nicholas at first had been very mistrustful of me. He is also a sneaky devil. How he managed to come into my room while I slept not once but twice I still have not been able to figure out. I still have not retaliated for his little surprises in my boot and water pitcher. No matter what I tell him to do invariably he will do the opposite or do nothing at all. He has not been won over by my charm. It is Apparition who has tipped the scales in my favor. A man in possession of such a horse and to have the loyalty and trust of that animal could not be all bad. I concluded that is what earned me his respect, my bond with a fine piece of horseflesh. Grizzly is another bone of contention between young Mr. Garrison and me. I have taken to using sneaky tactics of my own so the dog will stay with the boy when I leave to go out with the men. A nice juicy bone left in his food dish at the back door is guaranteed to keep him occupied for quite some time. In this way it appears the dog prefers his young master to the interloper.
I am almost tempted to skip shaving today just to irritate Hannah. That woman had the audacity to comment on my beard on the second morning. It was not a compliment either. She likened my face to a hairy ape. Of course she did not pass on this information to me in person. I had to hear it from Nicholas. He had spitefully regaled me with almost word for word what his mother said about me. I am sure she would have tanned his hide for repeating such things and needless to say I would not report back to her just how loose her son's tongue can be. I may have need of information in the future. If I had not already decided I did not like the hair covering my face by now I'd have whiskers down to my chest, a slight exaggeration but not by much.
I have never been one to linger over my ablutions. Looking into any mirror for any reason is something done in small doses. A strange thing I have noticed over these last months is that the right side of my face appears to have improved if only a little. The red cast will always be there as will the patch of missing hair, but the sores from all the rubbing of that porcelain mask have gradually cleared up. The moments of privacy outside in the sun have given me a darker skin tone. When warmer weather comes I do think I will find some private spot so that my clothing can be removed and allow the sun to work its magic on all of me. Of course I know not to stay out for long periods. I had made that mistake as a young man traveling across Egypt. Burns from the sun are no less painful than those from fire.
Out of habit I grab the bottle of men's cologne. Hannah likes how I smell. That is another secret Nicholas shared. He had heard Nicole telling her mother she liked how I smelled and Hannah had responded she had never smelled a man who could come in dirty and sweaty and still not have her wanting to turn up her nose.
His intention had been to compare me to one of those dandies in town as a disparagement. The poor young fool does not know I had worked for many years perfecting my outer appearance so I could look like one of those men, although the European version. Raoul comes to my mind as a fine example of what a dandy should look like. Raoul no longer seems so far removed from who I am now. If my face had not been malformed I might have been considered a handsome fellow. Many times I have drawn pictures of me correcting the mistake God made on the right side of my face.
There have been moments when I have caught Hannah giving me rather intense glances. I do rather enjoy the rosy hue of her cheeks during those times. When I think of that time when she had been washing dishes at the sink and without thought I came up behind her to reach overhead for the cookie jar, my insides tighten as does the part of me that yearns to move within a woman. Only when I heard her catch her breath did I realize just how closely my body pressed against hers. She didn't move away or say a word. It couldn't have been more than half a minute that we stood there transfixed with our bodies so delightfully close.
I had been overwhelmed with such longings for things I had never experienced in the arms of a woman it was all I could do not to grab her and do what comes natural for most people. To this day I don't know what made her turn toward me. Her shy smile only fueled my lustful thoughts. I did take note that her bosom rose and fell abnormally fast. That could have been because I had frightened her although I don't think that is the case. Before I could do something I might regret I had stumbled back and mumbled something I can't even remember. Only for a second there had been something like regret clouding her eyes.
Since that day I have been careful not to do anything so stupid again. Being careful in the hours I am awake does not follow over into my nighttime hours of sleep and dreams. What I dream is so much like those dreams I used to have about Christine, only now they have become even more lurid and sensuous. Perhaps those I had about Christine were not so avidly lustful because I had placed her on a pedestal and at the time she was merely a young innocent. Christine I have come to realize had been far too young for me. I had been inexperienced even though I had reached the age of thirty but still I think my enflamed desires would have frightened her. I cannot be sure but I think that I may be a very forceful lover and if ever I do find a woman willing to bed me, she will have need for bravery to withstand the passion I will unleash on her. I suppose there are other men of my age who are still virginal but probably only those who have taken vows of celibacy.
Glancing at the clock spurs me into action. At any moment Little Miss Nicole will be paying me a call. When I catch sight of my lips quirking at the thought, I am forced to admit I am becoming less annoyed by her hero worship of me. I can think of nothing I have done to earn such devotion but it gives me a warm feeling to know she cares about me.
As I step down from the very last step Nicole comes running from the kitchen holding a napkin with a freshly baked biscuit between which she has spread an overabundance of freshly churned butter and blackberry jam made only yesterday in my very own kitchen. Hannah had the foresight to can the last of the crop of blackberries.
How could I have lived my life without waking to find a child smiling up at me so trustingly? I had never been able to let Christine see me when she was a child for I had to keep up the pretense of being her Angel of Music. With this child I can be myself, an ordinary man who can be gruff on occasions and very ungracious concerning a young females emotions. I have tried to soften my responses toward Nicole.
"How are you this morning Nicole?" I almost can feel the words wanting to slip off my tongue to ask if I may carry her. I have felt this urge several times in the last couple of weeks, an urge to feel her slight weight in my arms and her face pressed against my chest. Just thinking about it brings a tightness just where my heart beats steadily.
As if she can read my mind, and I do think she does, she asks me shyly, "Would you carry me? I stubbed my toe. It hurts really, really bad." She lifts her left foot for me to inspect. Indeed the skin has been scrapped but no blood is oozing out. I can't imagine it hurting to the extent she claims it does.
Being a professed gentleman how can I deny such a sweetly made request? I haven't the words to answer her or even think I could squeeze anything past the lump in my throat so I just extend my arms and wait for her to step into me. She weighs nearly nothing in my arms but the burden I feel is the weight of the world as I carefully place her on my hip and guide her head to my chest. Lord God! I cannot ever recall anything feeling so sweet, so uplifting. Her trust in me means more than I can think to find words to describe. Careful not to get any sticky jelly in her hair I am ready to take my first steps while holding a living thing that at this moment seems closer to God's angel's than I have ever been. As I step into the kitchen my calm burden becomes a squirming mass of childish humanity wanting to be set down. It would appear her toe had healed in the few feet it took to travel down the hallway.
Hannah turns toward me and her hand is headed upward to smooth over her hair when it suddenly stops and she turns away but not before I see a flash of annoyance on her face. I know I haven't committed any acts that might single me out for her displeasure so it must be herself the look had been meant to reprimand. Likely she had felt the feminine urge to check her appearance when a male comes within her space. I could tell her I do understand that need even though I am a male. Constantly I am adjusting my mask, smoothing my hair, smelling the air about my person. Since Nicholas told me Hannah takes more notice of me than she likes to let on I want nothing to crop up that would show me in a bad light.
"I am fixing the crepes you told me you like. Why you can't simply eat pancakes like everyone else is beyond me. As if I don't have enough to do, now you want me to become a French chef." Her words may be negative, but her tone is calm and holds no real resentment. I think she feels she must protest on principle so that I don't begin to take her for granted or think I have any real say about what goes on in this kitchen. I have seen her bash one of the cowpokes upside his head for telling her she'd be fixing him some scrambled eggs and like it. She was a woman and should know her place. I had been about to step in when Hannah had given the man a hard crack across his cheek with her metal spatula then sent him backward out the back door as she wailed upon him with what had not in the history of man been listed as a lethal weapon.
"Your pancakes are divine so it occurred to me that crepes made by your talented hand would be heavenly." Placing my hand over my heart as she glances over her shoulder I even manage to smile. It pleases me to see how easily I can bring a flush to her face. For an experienced woman she seems almost too innocent to have lain with a man.
Without a word she pours me a cup of coffee. Holding it out to me I catch the quick look she gives me from under her long lashes. Those eyes could drown me and I would be happy to die in that watery grave. No sky has ever been just that shade of blue. Often I have wondered if they would flash in the heat of passion as they do when she is angry.
Taking the cup from her our fingers touch. The jolt I feel is unexpected. Just our fingers have touched yet I feel the affect from my head all the way to my toes. I hadn't even realized my finger had been stroking hers until I saw where her eyes had gone. Her tongue grazing across her lips is more than I can stand. If I don't leave now I won't be leaving at all. I must have said something because she nodded her head then turned back to the stove.
Released from her spell I hastily make my way to the dining room. The sideboard will have the usual mounds of food. The ranch hands will be coming in shortly to eat before heading out to work. Normally we would have left earlier but several men had already gone ahead and set up the camp. Today we would locate the strays and herd them to the makeshift pen. Once branded, they will be released. The first time I witnessed a cow being branded to my shame I had to head for the bushes. I let them think I had urgent business to tend to rather than have them think that I am weak.
The table is filling fast with men just shy of being outlaws. Rougher, tougher men I can honestly say I have never met. How Hannah managed to keep them in check and not quit I am sure some day I may learn her secret. Neglect around the ranch had been obvious the moment I set eyes on the place. Every structure had been in need of repair including the house. The house had been my first priority. The barns and stables had come just before the fences. Keeping the fence in repair is a never-ending task. Someone is always cutting the wire. The larger ranchers think of every acre being free range. Water rights are another bone of contention between the large ranch owners and the smaller ones. I had at first been happy to share whatever I had as there seemed to be so much of everything.
My neighbor, Roland Townsend, wants to own and rule it all. He had been running cattle on Angel Wing even before it had that name. As more and more of his cattle found their way to my land I made a point to advice him that perhaps he might consider moving the greater part of his herd on the far side of his land. My cattle must eat the grasses just as his do. Sharing is one thing but a complete takeover of all resources I will not tolerate. The fences that had begun to fall were repaired and more erected. I know they are being felled under the instruction of Mister Townsend but I cannot prove any such thing. It irritates me that Hannah believes his lies about not ordering the fences cut or his herd being run onto my land.
Lately there have been rustlers coming in and leaving with twenty or thirty head once or twice a week. Having thousands of those beasts one would think it would be hard to notice a few that were missing. Cowboys have some sort of mental tally sheet in their heads because they can tell when a rustler has come a calling.
Everyone is seated now except for Hannah. One reprimand from me and they all know not one bite of food leaves their plates until the cook has taken her place. Hannah breezes in taking the seat to my right. Nicole sits to my left and Nicholas sits beside his sister. Now we can begin our day.
A/N: I invite everyone to read and review my LND sequel. It continues on after Christine's death. I will try to show how everyone learns to cope with her loss and move on. I will attempt to write a believable story about how two former sworn enemies can learn to share a boy both claim as their son. Please just give it a try. It's in the plays/musicals under Love Never Dies stories. It is called Life can be Lived Alone.