THE FIRE WITHIN
Chapter Seventeen
Christa opened her eyes to the
morning sun. It made her lazy. There was nothing she needed to do but take care
of her man and her son. She bathed quickly and set off to find herself a job,
working where she had previously worked. The owner of the pub smiled when he
saw her.
"Well, hello, Christa.
Welcome back," Samuel said.
"Nice to be back home, Sam.
Listen, if it's possible, I need a job," Christa said bluntly.
"You've got it! No questions
asked." Sam cleaned up the bar.
"Thanks, Sam. I’ve got a
husband and baby to support now." She smiled.
"Well, by God, you've grown
up. Who is this fellow you’re with?" he asked.
"I met him in New York. His
name is Amsterdam Vallon. So, I am now Christa Vallon, or hope to be
someday," she said as she started cleaning some tables.
"Did you ever find that
uncle you were looking for?" Sam looked for his washcloth.
"Yeah, I did. It's a long
story. He died just before I left New York, though," she explained.
"Died? How?" he asked
curiously.
"My husband stabbed him for
hurting my baby and myself." She felt no shame in telling him that.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. We are fine
now." She smiled.
"Glad to hear it. Tommy is
working here, too. I am glad to have you both back." He was very happy
that they were working for him. It seemed like the old days.
"It’s nice to be back,
Sam." Christa was very glad to be home again.
*****
Back at the cottage, Amsterdam
woke up needing to relieve himself. He stretched before getting up. It had been
a while since he had had a nice, comfortable place to sleep. He just had to
look for a place of his own to share with Christa now. He hoped she didn't mind
living with him, especially since they weren't married. But he loved her just
as though they were married. He promised on his own conscience that he wouldn't
cheat or treat her wrong, ever.
He put his foot down on the floor
and winced. It hurt. No doubt it would be like this for a while. It was quiet.
He wondered where everyone was. He heard footsteps, and someone entered.
"Aw, you’re up!" Mrs.
Ryan said.
"Who are you?"
Amsterdam asked.
"Oh, sorry. I am Tommy's
mother. And you’re Amsterdam. Christa's friend, right?" She asked, fixing
the sheets she had just brought in.
"Yes, except a little more
than friends, I should think." He smiled.
"I hope you do right by her.
She has been through so much since her mother died." Mrs. Ryan was always
protective of Christa, even though Christa wasn't her daughter.
"Where is Christa?"
Amsterdam asked.
"Looking to find a job. She
needs to get a place of her own, not that I mind her staying here," Mrs.
Ryan said, looking at him.
"I completely understand.
Believe me." He nodded his head.
"I set up a nice bath for
you, and some clothes there. I thought you might wanna wash up and look presentable.
I’ve got a surprise for you and Christa when you come downstairs." She
excused herself.
"All right. Thank you for
your hospitality." He meant it.
"You’re more than welcome,
Amsterdam." She closed the door behind her.
He got up and walked to what he
assumed was the screen shielding the bathtub and chamber pot. When he got
behind it, he stripped. There was no lock on the bedroom door. He started to
wash the years of dirt off of himself. He hadn't had anything like this in a
very long time, not since his father had bathed him. He looked around for the
soap and didn't find any.
The door swayed opened, and it
was Marie. Amsterdam tried to hide himself below the water.
"Oh, I’m sorry, Amsterdam I
thought Mrs. Ryan had told you I would be helping you with your bath, since
your leg is hurt," Marie said, wearing an apron.
"She failed to mention
that." He smiled.
"Is it all right? I mean,
you aren't afraid of me, are you?" Marie asked.
"Nah. I just didn't expect
you, is all." He had never had someone help him do this before.
She got down on her knees with a
washcloth and soap. She pulled his head toward her so she could wash his hair.
When it was lathered, she got the water and poured it over his head. He liked
being treated like a rich man. He only wished it was Christa that was bathing
him, because the erotic sensation was beginning to arouse him.
He was embarrassed when his
erection rose to the surface of the water. He hoped that Marie didn't notice.
He quickly dismissed her and went ahead and did the rest of his bathing alone.
When she left, his erection subsided. After he had finished bathing, he got
out, got dressed, and went downstairs.
Marie was waiting outside for him
when he appeared. She was sharpening a blade to shave him. He saw and went
outside.
"Have you done this
before?" he asked.
"Yes, very often. Don't
worry, Amsterdam. I won't nick you." She lathered his face with soap, and
after that, she began to shave him slowly.
She made steady strokes, and when
she was done, she got a semi-hot cloth and put it on his face. He liked the way
she worked.
He looked so clean cut, she would
never have known it was him. He couldn't wait until Christa came home, or maybe
he could go and visit her.
"Marie, how long would it
take me to walk to Christa's work?" he asked her.
"Amsterdam, you can't walk.
You need to heal," she warned him.
"I have to see Christa. It's
urgent. Please." He needed her now.
"All right. Let me tell Mrs.
Ryan. She's taking care of Michael." Marie wondered what was so important.
"Yeah." He nodded.
When Marie came back, she helped
him get up in the carriage. They rode in silence. Amsterdam was beginning to
like his surroundings. It was very quiet and very beautiful. He could see why
Christa liked it, compared to New York.
When Marie stopped, Amsterdam had
no problem getting out of the carriage. "See you at home later,
Marie." He waved.
"All right. Give Christa my
best." She smiled and went back home.
"Will do, Marie. Take
care." He waved to her as she drove off.
When he saw Marie leave, he went
inside, looking for Christa. He saw her in a semi-low cut dress. The pub was
somewhat full. He wondered what time it was. He went up to Christa.
"Excuse me, Miss."
Christa saw a nice-looking man.
"May I help you, sir?"
Her eyes seemed to shine when she stared at him.
"Yeah. You free to see me
tonight?" he asked candidly.
"No. Sorry, sir. Got work
and a family to go home to." She smiled at him, trying to polite.
He decided to play along,
thinking she knew who he was, but was playing along with him.
"You married, Miss?" he
asked her.
"Nope, but I am seeing
someone." She made it a point to make him see she was taken.
"One night with me, and you
will forget the other man," he told her.
"You could try. Amsterdam
wouldn't like that very much," she said, thinking he was strange.
"He doesn't have to
know." He reached into his pockets.
"Not interested." She
walked away.
He followed her slowly toward the
back of the place. She had no idea when he started coming towards her and
turned her around, dragging her outside.
"Be quiet, and I will let
you go." He liked being the one to have the upper hand.
She nodded.
"What do you think you are
doing?" she asked him, not knowing that he was Amsterdam.
"Offering you a gift in
exchange for services." He stood next to her.
"I'm no whore." She
made it clear to him.
"I didn't say for sex. Not
unless you want it, love," he teased her.
"Ha!" She laughed.
"You’re a feisty one, and I
love that." He had always liked that about her.
He took her by surprise and
kissed her. Knowing that kiss, she let him touch her. "Amsterdam?"
"Yes?" He smiled.
"Damn. You scared me half to
death." She pushed him away.
"Sorry. I wanted to see if
you knew who I am." He smiled.
"Not at first, but after
that kiss, I knew." She was frustrated with him now. "What brings you
here? Couldn't wait?" she taunted him.
"Christa, I was wondering if
we could talk. About us." He stood, waiting for her to speak.
"Sure. Let me ask Sam. I am
due for a break." She grabbed his hand and walked with him into the pub.
She walked up to the bar. Sam was
cleaning shot glasses and serving shots. He looked up when Christa called to
him. "Sam?"
"Yeah? Yeah, Christa?"
He nodded his head.
"I want you to meet
Amsterdam." She sat at the bar.
"Ah…so you’re the one who
stole our Christa?" Sam looked at Amsterdam. He was tall and built.
"Actually, she stole
me." He laughed.
Christa winked at him. She loved
the idea. She had stolen him. There was never a dull moment when Amsterdam was
in the room.
"Sam, is it all right if I
go on break?" she asked.
"Sure. Take as long as you
need." He shook his head.
"Thanks, Sam." She
smiled and walked out the door of the pub.
Amsterdam followed. "Nice
meeting you," he said to Sam.
"Likewise," Sam said,
and went back to work.
Christa walked into a forested
area. Amsterdam wondered where she was going. He didn't know this place. So, he
followed her. She hadn't said a word since they left the pub. They came upon a
little shack. Christa looked under a rock and found a key.
"Christa, I don't think we
should go in there. This is someone's home," Amsterdam warned her.
"Don't worry, Amsterdam.
It's okay. See, when Tommy and I were children, we built this together. We had
help, of course. Sam was like a second father to me. After my ma died and I
came to live with Mrs. Ryan, I met Sam. See, he wasn't always a pub owner. He
used to be a teacher," she explained to Amsterdam as she walked into the
shack.
"Ah…did you used to bring
all your gentleman callers here?" he asked curiously, looking around.
"No. Tommy and I never
brought anyone here." She sat down in a chair.
"Did you and Tommy ever do
it here? I mean, before New York." He had always wondered how close she
and Tommy and were.
"Amsterdam, Tommy never
touched me. Not until New York. You were my first," she told him.
"Christa, about that…I am
sorry for not being careful. I never meant to give you a child that
night." He told her the truth.
"I knew what it might lead
to, Amsterdam. I wanted you to make love to me. I wouldn't have done it if I
hadn't known the consequences."
"Christa, you don't
understand what I am trying to say. I love you, and if we are gonna make this
work, well..." He got down on one knee. "Will you be my wife?"
Her eyes glowed. She hadn’t
expected this. Not this soon. She was flattered. She began to cry and hug him.
He was all she ever wanted in life. A good man who loved her without a doubt.
"I take that as a yes?"
he asked.
"Yes, Amsterdam. I will be
your wife." She kissed him.
He saw a bed and took her to it.
He needed his Christa. She wiped her tears and kissed him madly. He was about
to make love to her when they heard a commotion outside. Amsterdam and Christa
got up off the bed and went outside. Two men were chasing a girl.
"Amsterdam, we need to help her," Christa said.
He walked outside and caught the
attention of the two men. He was buttoning his shirt and trousers when he
approached them.
"Leave her alone,"
Amsterdam said.
"Mind your own business. We
have some business to discuss with her," one man said, and pointed to the
girl.
"Please, help me. These men
are trying to rape me," she said.
"We only wanted what you
promised us before you stole our wallets," the men said.
"Fine. Here." She threw
them their wallets. They picked them up and walked away.
"Whore," one man said,
and they both walked away.
"Are you okay, Miss?"
Christa asked.
"I'm fine. Thanks for coming
to my rescue when you did," she said.
"I’m Christa Connor, and
this is my fiancé, Amsterdam," Christa introduced herself.
"My name's Rose. Rose DeWitt
Bukater. I'm originally from New York," she said.
"We just came from there.
Don't go back," Christa warned her.
"I’ve been trying to find a
job here," Rose said, fixing her dress and looking at Amsterdam.
"I am sure Sam will offer
you a job. Do you know how to waitress?" Christa asked her.
"Yes." Rose smiled.
"Great. Listen, Amsterdam, I
am gonna take her to Sam. Will you wait for me?" Christa asked.
"Of course." He smiled.
Amsterdam noticed the new girl staring
at him, and he wondered why. Had they met before? It couldn't be, because he
had just met her. She just looked a tad familiar.
*****
Christa walked into the pub with
Rose. She told Sam that she needed a job for Rose, and he was ecstatic to get
so many workers. It was like a family to him. He offered Rose a job, and
Christa was happy. When she got back to the shack, it was quiet. Amsterdam was
lying inside, waiting for her. She took off her clothes and joined him on the
bed. She started to kiss him, and he woke up.
"What took you so
long?" he asked.
"We'll talk about that
later. Do your best, Amsterdam, to make love to me," she said.
"Will do, Christa." He
smiled and took what was rightfully his.