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"You're becoming a woman tonight," Drew said, sounding as though his voice was coming from the depths of a well.
Eugenia clung to him, sinking her teeth into his shoulder. The feelings were so frantic, and pressing inside her. If this was what it meant to become a woman she couldn't help but wonder how she could have waited so long.
"Oh, Drew," she whispered, feeling his body begin to shake and quiver against hers as the feelings inside her own body rose to such heights she felt as though she would explode into a million pieces of the warm sun's rays. Suddenly her mind was one large wave of this warmth, filling every fiber of her being. Then it was over. A release of pent-up emotions leaving her relaxed and fulfilled.
"Remarkable," Drew said, then pulled away from her, watching her as his fingers sought out her breasts once again. "And your breasts. The best," he mumbled softly.
Now aware of her nudity beneath these searching eyes, Eugenia pushed her dress down and pulled the buttons together on the bodice. Her eyes faltered, now having doubts over what she had just permitted this man to do to her. But she had wanted it, or it wouldn't have happened.
She rose and walked toward the creek, still readjusting the skirt of her dress. The water was so peaceful as it rippled over the shallow bed of rocks. Its peacefulness seemed to match her own feelings, strange as it was to her. She ran her fingers through her hair, straightening it. Then she felt his hand at the nape of her neck, lifting the hair, applying his lips where the hair had lain. She shivered, enjoying this surprise caress from his warm, moist lips. And, God! Didn't he smell so sweet? It was a smell of creek water and roses mingled into one—much different than when she had first gotten near him.
"You're not sorry, are you?" he asked, turning her around so their eyes could meet.
"No. I'm not sorry," she answered. "I've never had such a beautiful experience."
Drew pulled her into his arms and held her close to him. "You were made for sex," he said, burying his nose into the depths of her hair, enjoying the smell of it. "And don't think for a minute that you're not a woman."
She gazed, wide-eyed, up into his eyes. "Would you say I'm… a lady?" she asked softly, innocently.
"Nothing else but." He laughed amusedly.
Eugenia smiled as she pulled away from him. She strolled toward the fire. "I don't even know one thing about you and I give myself to you willingly." She pulled her skirt up and sat down close to the fire once again, her green eyes a picture of wonder. She was glad when he sat down opposite her. She wasn't sure if she could be so dose to him so soon after without wanting to touch him, caress him. She could feel her face reddening just thinking about it.
"What do you want to know?" he asked. He poured coffee into two tin cups and handed one to her.
"Were you really on your way to Cripple Creek?" she asked. She began to sip the coffee, enjoying the warmth it brought to her insides.
He laughed. "Sure am. I'm ready to make a million in gold. Just like I've read about so many other fellas doin."
"Where might you be from?"
"My parents arrived here in the U.S. in eighteen seventy-five from Gaunbalny, Russia. I was born in New York the next year, the year they moved to Saint Louis."
"Saint Louis? I've read so much about it
," Eugenia sighed, remembering the nights in front of the fire with only her Papa's books to keep her company.
"My parents have never been happy there," Drew grumbled, lighting a cigarette. "It seems the Jewish community was much larger in New York."
"You're of Jewish descent?"
He cast her a sweeping, questioning look. "Does that matter?"
"No. Not really," she murmured. Her eyes settled on his thick crop of dark, curly hair. It fit in now. But his blue eyes? She would have expected brown. But it was none of her concern. She hurriedly changed the subject, sensing that she had hit on a delicate subject. "I've heard the streets of Cripple Creek are even paved in gold," she said almost in a sigh.
A loud burst of laughter surfaced from Drew. "Who in hell told you that?" he finally said, wiping wetness from his eyes.
"Why? Ain't it true?" she asked innocently, her eyes wide.
"You've got a lot to learn, woman," he said, flicking his cigarette into the fire.
"Do you mean the streets ain't paved in gold?"
"Eugenia, the streets in Cripple Creek are the same as any streets in any other town."
Disappointment surged through Eugenia. So often she had dreamed of these streets shining, reflecting in goldish tints upward as she walked across them attired in a satin dress. And now?
"And don't expect too much of the town," Drew continued. "There's a lot of meanness in gold mining towns. You might even want to return to your Mama and Papa."
