Nicademus: The Wild Ones Read Online Free

sucked in her diaphragm and proceeded to undress. Her room was the only one with a claw foot limestone tub, the most extravagant thing she owned. Cleanliness was one of the strict customs that Red Sun lived by. In the ways of the Chickasaw, the women were expected to wash daily. To not wash your body and hair was seen as blasphemous. It was one of the customs that Cora quickly learned to adopt for Red Sun. The other girls bathed in one of the outside stalls to the back of the saloon with Jessiemae filling the wash bucket. She tried to enforce the custom of cleanliness with them as well.
    Thankfully her bath had been drawn. Jessiemae had heated water and poured it into the tub. Cora unfastened her black waist corset that was tight around her abdomen and dropped her gun belt on the chair. She shed her blue satin dress last. Undressed, she stepped into the now tepid water and sunk down into bliss.
     
    **
    Red Sun looked up from his meal of eggs and potatoes. Jessiemae cackled at him a few words that meant nothing. His head turned and his gaze lifted to the upper level of the saloon. Cora had sent for him.
    A man was nothing without his pride. Cora was the only woman he’d constantly handed his over to. It was hard and frustrating. And this evening, for the sake of peace, he’d have to do it again. Red Sun nodded to Jessiemae so she could shut up and continued to eat. He would not be rushed through his meal for this infuriating woman, though admittedly he chewed and swallowed faster.
    The first time he discovered the town of Nicademus he watched it from the top of White Rock Mountain in a state of disbelief. Never had he seen blacks, natives, Chinese, and even a few whites live in harmony under the white man’s law undisturbed by raiders or bandits. He was cautious of trusting in the allure. He soon learned that Nicademus had the perfect cover of the black forest near Buck Creek, and was deep in the foothills of the mountains. Many homesteaders passed the valley in fear of bears, or wolves that frequently prowled this region. That left the land unsullied. Its obscurity was its security. And that’s why he decided Nicademus would be the perfect place to raise his wounded sparrow Annabelle.
    First day in town he met Cora, a beautiful soiled dove with large brown eyes under extended dark lashes. She had buttery brown skin, hair that was dark as raven feathers and so curly it bounced on her shoulders when she walked. When she pinned it from her face with sparkling barrettes, the hair curled like a baby’s around the temple and her ears. She said she was gens de couleur out of a place called the French Quarter. A year after knowing her she shared her sad story of being born a slave and sold into placage at the age of ten by her white French father away from her mother’s arms.
    She was his Soiled Dove, a name given to her by him and only evoked in private. Cora was also the governess of the whores who took shelter at her establishment and worked for her. Underneath the sex kitten exterior was the pure innocence of a woman with a golden heart. He loved her deeply, and when she became his she never took another man to bed. Never.
    Red Sun stood. He kicked back the chair and stalked toward the stairs. His height and temperament made very few gunslingers brave enough to look him in the eye. And that suited him fine. He didn’t like cowboys, black or white. Hell, he didn’t like people in general. Didn’t deal well with friendships. Cora and Annabelle were the only living beings left in the world that he cared for and would kill for.
    At her door he paused. He had no idea what mood Cora would be in. He’d been out in the mountains for the past four days trapping and killing bears and wild turkey. Their parting was so sour he knew the bitter aftertaste would linger on her sharp tongue. But again his body and heart ached to be soothed by her. Recently he’d had a dream, and his dreams were always omens. Something bad was coming.