Shyanne's Secret
Chapter 1
Oregon Territory, 1877
Chapter 1
Oregon Territory, 1877
Cole Jackson watched from the second story bedroom window as that man rode away.
"Good riddance." He raked his hair from his face, shoved his hands in his pockets, and watched until the drunk that had forced Cole to call him "Sir" for the last four months rode out of site. Now Aunt Rita would be happier. No more fights over the nephew she claimed as kin. No more defending Cole and his "savage" ways. He'd take care of her and be the son that she'd never been able to have. She didn't need someone who hadn't done anything to make her happy in as long as Cole had known A.J.
Rita and Anson "A.J." Baldwin took Cole in when his parents were murdered. The product of Rita's brother Seth, and the squaw he'd married against the family's wishes so he could qualify for a larger Oregon land grant, Cole was a tough kid who'd already learned that being a half-blood living in the community of the white man was equal to being a scapegoat for the sins of the world. It happened at the school he'd attended before his parents were killed by an unidentified group of prejudiced men. He finally dropped out of school to work the farm. It didn't get any better once Cole became part of his aunt's childless family.
There was always some jerk that thought he was clever for picking on the Indian. Cole learned to shrug it off, adapt to the situation. If he fought back, he'd only get in trouble. He was good at fighting. He could better than hold his own. It didn't matter, though. If he lost, he lost. If he won, he lost. So why bother. Justice for a half-blood in 1870s Oregon was a myth.
Rita Baldwin had to defend her nephew constantly from the day the Baldwin's took Cole in, and had him brought to California. Not wanting to lose her brother's property, Rita tried to convince A.J. to take over Seth's land grant, but he'd wanted no part of it. Cole was taken to their homestead in California until he turned eighteen and could put in a claim for his father's land. After so much trouble caused by Cole's bloodlines and appearance, Rita's idea to move back to Heart, Oregon sounded real good.
Heartless, Cole called it. He knew it was no different here than in California. There were less people but everyone knew your business. In four short months, A.J. had had enough of the small town life, losing money due to his drinking and gambling, and if Rita didn't want to go with him then he'd go back to California alone. Rita didn't want to go back to big town life where it was tougher for Cole to fit in. Fewer people, fewer problems, she said.
Fewer saloons, fewer problems, Cole thought. A.J. gave her an ultimatum: city life with her husband or small town life with that "breed" who would never fit in anywhere. Cole smiled at her decision.
"I win." He eyed the collection of wooden figures his pa had carved for him; the wild mustangs fashioned to appear to be thundering across the open range. "Freedom," he told them, and headed down stairs to check on Aunt Rita before he left for town.
He found Rita at the table, her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. She stared at the wall of the one-room lower floor of the house Seth had built with his own hands. Cole placed one hand on her shoulder. Her dark hair was streaked with more silver than he could recall there being. She didn't look up. Cole gave her shoulder a light squeeze, his slender fingers like his body, stronger than they appeared.
"We’ll be fine without him," he offered.
"You will."
The comment was slow in coming, not what Cole expected to hear. He pulled out a chair, and sat down to face her.
Cole placed his hand on hers. "He never did anything for you. He drank and screamed and cussed you because of me. You're going to miss that?"
"Sometimes…" Her words faltered. She looked Cole in the eyes. "Sometimes, Cole, I think you were a mistake." A faint sigh escaped her lips. She let her gaze fall to her cup as Cole slowly stood. "Sometimes."
Cole couldn't believe what he'd heard. A mistake? Just like that? A mistake. He shoved in the chair, slammed it against the table, and made Rita jump spilling her coffee.
"Don't worry, Rita. I won't be a burden much longer. I'm eighteen. When I get my land in my name, I'm on my own. I can claim my own land. I'm heading to town for supplies." He stopped at the door, but did not turn around. "Will you be here when I get back?"
"I wouldn't leave you."
"You just did." Cole grabbed his jacket from the peg on the wall and slammed the door as he went out.
* * * *
"There he is. Isn't he the sassiest thing on two legs?" Shyanne Bennett nudged Linda Epson who sat beside her in the wagon. Cole came down the road from his farm in a buckboard. She could see him across the field from where they sat waiting for Mr. Bennett to check the horse's hoof.
Linda looked up and grimaced. "You've got to be kidding. Look at him. He doesn't even cut his hair. It's longer than yours." The breeze tossed Cole's black tresses around his shoulders as he drove the buckboard along the hard pack road that converged with the main road into town.
Dexter Heim rode past. "Ladies." He nodded, fingered the brim of his hat and continued on without another word.
Linda smiled after him and nudged Shyanne. "That's what you should ask your Daddy to get you for your birthday tomorrow." She nodded toward Cole. "Not that."
Shyanne rolled her eyes at the young man riding ahead of them toward town, then turned her attention across the grassy field. Cole reached the fork where his road met the main road and turned toward town. Shyanne couldn't wait to get her hands on that man. She ran her tongue over perfectly shaped lips as she watched him hook the reins under his thigh, pull a denim jacket on over his cotton shirt, and flip his thick hair from the collar. Even the fierce glare he wore was sinfully attractive in her eyes. The smooth lines of those long denim-encased legs, one boot propped up on the kick-board as the single horse pulled him briskly along, exuded defiance and attitude. She could watch him for hours, given the opportunity.
"Who cares about hair? Look at the rest of him. Right down to his boots, he's all animal. Even his walk has attitude. Have you ever watched him walk?" Shyanne glanced at her father and lowered her voice. "One day, he's going to take Dexter Heims apart and I can't wait to see it."
"He's an animal, all right. He should be in a cage." Linda smirked, and turned her attention to the lace trim on her cuff as Mr. Bennett jumped aboard.
"That's that," Mr. Bennett said. "Let's get you something pretty for your birthday, Shyanne." He whipped the horse into motion, and the wagon lurched forward, nearly colliding with Cole's horse.
Cole's horse loudly voiced his disapproval of the sudden intrusion. Cole stopped, and allowed the Bennett wagon to continue ahead of him.
Shyanne fussed with her skirts so she could chance a look back at Cole. Linda nudged her. "If you want to stay out of trouble, you'd better get your eyes off of that and onto someone like Dex."
Shy hid her disgust at the thought of Dex anywhere near her. It didn't matter what others thought of Cole. Shyanne fully intended to get to know that half-blood young man much better. Better than any other young man in town. She wanted him to be hers. He was her fantasy and she'd get what she wanted. She always did. When it came to Cole Jackson, he wasn't any different. Even if she had to keep it a secret, she'd have him for her own. She was sure he'd be grateful for her company.
"Good riddance." He raked his hair from his face, shoved his hands in his pockets, and watched until the drunk that had forced Cole to call him "Sir" for the last four months rode out of site. Now Aunt Rita would be happier. No more fights over the nephew she claimed as kin. No more defending Cole and his "savage" ways. He'd take care of her and be the son that she'd never been able to have. She didn't need someone who hadn't done anything to make her happy in as long as Cole had known A.J.
Rita and Anson "A.J." Baldwin took Cole in when his parents were murdered. The product of Rita's brother Seth, and the squaw he'd married against the family's wishes so he could qualify for a larger Oregon land grant, Cole was a tough kid who'd already learned that being a half-blood living in the community of the white man was equal to being a scapegoat for the sins of the world. It happened at the school he'd attended before his parents were killed by an unidentified group of prejudiced men. He finally dropped out of school to work the farm. It didn't get any better once Cole became part of his aunt's childless family.
There was always some jerk that thought he was clever for picking on the Indian. Cole learned to shrug it off, adapt to the situation. If he fought back, he'd only get in trouble. He was good at fighting. He could better than hold his own. It didn't matter, though. If he lost, he lost. If he won, he lost. So why bother. Justice for a half-blood in 1870s Oregon was a myth.
Rita Baldwin had to defend her nephew constantly from the day the Baldwin's took Cole in, and had him brought to California. Not wanting to lose her brother's property, Rita tried to convince A.J. to take over Seth's land grant, but he'd wanted no part of it. Cole was taken to their homestead in California until he turned eighteen and could put in a claim for his father's land. After so much trouble caused by Cole's bloodlines and appearance, Rita's idea to move back to Heart, Oregon sounded real good.
Heartless, Cole called it. He knew it was no different here than in California. There were less people but everyone knew your business. In four short months, A.J. had had enough of the small town life, losing money due to his drinking and gambling, and if Rita didn't want to go with him then he'd go back to California alone. Rita didn't want to go back to big town life where it was tougher for Cole to fit in. Fewer people, fewer problems, she said.
Fewer saloons, fewer problems, Cole thought. A.J. gave her an ultimatum: city life with her husband or small town life with that "breed" who would never fit in anywhere. Cole smiled at her decision.
"I win." He eyed the collection of wooden figures his pa had carved for him; the wild mustangs fashioned to appear to be thundering across the open range. "Freedom," he told them, and headed down stairs to check on Aunt Rita before he left for town.
He found Rita at the table, her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. She stared at the wall of the one-room lower floor of the house Seth had built with his own hands. Cole placed one hand on her shoulder. Her dark hair was streaked with more silver than he could recall there being. She didn't look up. Cole gave her shoulder a light squeeze, his slender fingers like his body, stronger than they appeared.
"We’ll be fine without him," he offered.
"You will."
The comment was slow in coming, not what Cole expected to hear. He pulled out a chair, and sat down to face her.
Cole placed his hand on hers. "He never did anything for you. He drank and screamed and cussed you because of me. You're going to miss that?"
"Sometimes…" Her words faltered. She looked Cole in the eyes. "Sometimes, Cole, I think you were a mistake." A faint sigh escaped her lips. She let her gaze fall to her cup as Cole slowly stood. "Sometimes."
Cole couldn't believe what he'd heard. A mistake? Just like that? A mistake. He shoved in the chair, slammed it against the table, and made Rita jump spilling her coffee.
"Don't worry, Rita. I won't be a burden much longer. I'm eighteen. When I get my land in my name, I'm on my own. I can claim my own land. I'm heading to town for supplies." He stopped at the door, but did not turn around. "Will you be here when I get back?"
"I wouldn't leave you."
"You just did." Cole grabbed his jacket from the peg on the wall and slammed the door as he went out.
* * * *
"There he is. Isn't he the sassiest thing on two legs?" Shyanne Bennett nudged Linda Epson who sat beside her in the wagon. Cole came down the road from his farm in a buckboard. She could see him across the field from where they sat waiting for Mr. Bennett to check the horse's hoof.
Linda looked up and grimaced. "You've got to be kidding. Look at him. He doesn't even cut his hair. It's longer than yours." The breeze tossed Cole's black tresses around his shoulders as he drove the buckboard along the hard pack road that converged with the main road into town.
Dexter Heim rode past. "Ladies." He nodded, fingered the brim of his hat and continued on without another word.
Linda smiled after him and nudged Shyanne. "That's what you should ask your Daddy to get you for your birthday tomorrow." She nodded toward Cole. "Not that."
Shyanne rolled her eyes at the young man riding ahead of them toward town, then turned her attention across the grassy field. Cole reached the fork where his road met the main road and turned toward town. Shyanne couldn't wait to get her hands on that man. She ran her tongue over perfectly shaped lips as she watched him hook the reins under his thigh, pull a denim jacket on over his cotton shirt, and flip his thick hair from the collar. Even the fierce glare he wore was sinfully attractive in her eyes. The smooth lines of those long denim-encased legs, one boot propped up on the kick-board as the single horse pulled him briskly along, exuded defiance and attitude. She could watch him for hours, given the opportunity.
"Who cares about hair? Look at the rest of him. Right down to his boots, he's all animal. Even his walk has attitude. Have you ever watched him walk?" Shyanne glanced at her father and lowered her voice. "One day, he's going to take Dexter Heims apart and I can't wait to see it."
"He's an animal, all right. He should be in a cage." Linda smirked, and turned her attention to the lace trim on her cuff as Mr. Bennett jumped aboard.
"That's that," Mr. Bennett said. "Let's get you something pretty for your birthday, Shyanne." He whipped the horse into motion, and the wagon lurched forward, nearly colliding with Cole's horse.
Cole's horse loudly voiced his disapproval of the sudden intrusion. Cole stopped, and allowed the Bennett wagon to continue ahead of him.
Shyanne fussed with her skirts so she could chance a look back at Cole. Linda nudged her. "If you want to stay out of trouble, you'd better get your eyes off of that and onto someone like Dex."
Shy hid her disgust at the thought of Dex anywhere near her. It didn't matter what others thought of Cole. Shyanne fully intended to get to know that half-blood young man much better. Better than any other young man in town. She wanted him to be hers. He was her fantasy and she'd get what she wanted. She always did. When it came to Cole Jackson, he wasn't any different. Even if she had to keep it a secret, she'd have him for her own. She was sure he'd be grateful for her company.
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