Read Frontier Courtship Online
Authors: Valerie Hansen
Tags: #Romance - Historical, #American Light Romantic Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Fiction - Romance, #Man-woman relationships, #Love stories, #West (U.S.), #Historical, #American Historical Fiction, #Fiction - Religious, #Christian, #Religious - General, #Christian - Romance, #Religious, #Christian - Historical, #Overland journeys to the Pacific, #Wagon trains, #Sisters, #Courtship, #Frontier and pioneer life
She lowered her head like a billy goat and plowed into Tucker, blindsiding him and hoping against hope that her efforts would be enough to snap the others out of their apparent stupor and bring them to her aid.
The attack caused Tucker to drop his weapon. It also staggered Faith. Reeling, she fell back, barely cognizant of her vulnerable position.
With a guttural roar he went for her. Backing away, she tripped. When he lunged, she rolled beneath the rails of the corral where Ben and the horses were shuffling nervously.
Tucker followed without hesitation.
Screeching for help, Faith tried to regain her feet but her skirt tangled around her legs and she floundered in the dust. Eyes wide, she saw stout hooves stomping the ground beside her, barely missing her head.
In a heartbeat, Tucker was towering over her. Though he was now weaponless, his grimace declared his deadly plans more clearly than any words.
Helpless, Faith closed her eyes and raised her arms to shield her face. She was beyond prayer, beyond hope.
Above her, Ben snorted. Just when she thought the mule might come to her aid he wheeled, apparently fleeing. Tears stung Faith’s eyes. Her heart broke. Even Ben, her staunchest ally, was forsaking her in the face of the captain’s wrath.
Time stood still. Tucker loomed. Irene screamed something in an unknown tongue.
Faith peeked between her folded arms. An animal snorted. Hooves flew above her. Ben! He hadn’t deserted the fight. He’d simply turned to aim his kick!
The force of the mule’s hooves lifted Ramsey Tucker off the ground and sent him flying into the rough-cut rails of the corral. He hit with a crack that sounded as if the wood had split. His back and neck arched unnaturally.
Faith rolled out of the way as Ben charged. His lip was curled, his teeth bared, his long ears laid back against his lowered head.
As Tucker made his final slide to the ground, the mule bowed his neck, stiffened his legs and came down on the body with both front feet. Hard.
Faith could tell that the last assault was unnecessary. Tucker had died the moment his back had snapped. It was over.
She struggled to her feet just as Connell rounded the corner of the cabin. A more blessed sight Faith had never seen. Though he was holding his side and walking unsteadily, he was alive. That was enough for her.
She glanced at Irene and Red Deer. Their decision was plain. They were a couple. There was no question about it.
Connell saw it, too. Nodding, he passed them by and went straight to Faith. “Are you all right?”
She caressed his cheek and nodded. “Yes. You?”
“I’ve been better,” he said. “I saw what happened. Guess old Ben finally got even for all the abuse.”
“Yes.” Soberly, Faith considered her loyal mule. “They remember cruelty, sometimes for years. Ben was always gentle with me but the captain was a different story. I know it’s not a very Christian attitude, but I think he got exactly what he deserved.”
“They say the Lord works in mysterious ways.”
Agreeing, Faith glanced at Irene. Red Deer had assumed a defensive stance, clearly ready to do battle for his chosen wife if need be.
Connell shook his head and managed a smile. “She’s all yours,” he said. “I release her from her promise to marry me.”
Irene evidently translated, because as soon as she’d finished speaking the Cheyenne eased his stiff posture.
“Where will they go,” Faith asked Connell. “She can’t go back to Black Kettle, can she?”
“No, but the Arapaho will take her in again because she once belonged to them. Even if she were Cheyenne they’d go to live with her mother’s tribe instead of staying with Black Kettle’s band.”
“So, Red Deer will be safe, too?”
“Yes.” Connell chuckled. “I owe him for one of the knots on my head but I’ll forgive him—as a wedding present to Irene.”
“He is the one who was following us, who knocked you off Rojo, isn’t he?”
“I’m sure of it.”
“You’re not angry?” Faith remained close to him, sighing when he slipped his arm around her waist.
“How can I be?” Connell said softly. “He brought you and me together and solved Irene’s problems, too. What more could I ask?”
Faith gazed up at him. “Together? Us?”
“If you’ll have me,” Connell said. “The Sacramento Valley is lush and rich, good for cattle and farming. And I’ll build you a new house if you don’t like the one I already have.”
“What about my family?”
Connell looked to Emory, who was still in the process of reviving Charity. “May I have the honor of marrying your daughter, sir?”
“This one or that one?” Emory jested.
“This one. Definitely this one.” Connell gave Faith a light squeeze and winced. “As soon as my ribs heal a bit. Right now, I think I’d better sit down.”
T
he traveling preacher stood in the rear of the Majestic, Bible in hand, while the miners crowded around.
Faith had managed to piece together a presentable frock from some calico Connell had found for her and was radiant. He stood beside her in his buckskins, beaming from ear to ear, while the preacher made them man and wife.
A raucous cheer went up as the ceremony concluded. The prospectors had come from all walks of life, all parts of the country, yet were united in a celebration of joy not often seen in the gold camps.
“I wish Irene could have stayed long enough to be a part of this,” Faith told her new husband, “but I understand why she and Red Deer felt they should go. I hope they’re as happy as I am.”
“I’m sure they are,” Connell said. “And so is your sister. We’ll be lucky to get her to come to Sacramento City with us after all the attention she’s getting from these lonesome miners.”
“Papa will see that she behaves herself. He’s anxious to leave here as soon as possible. It’s a wonder the winter weather has delayed as long as it has.”
“I know. Are you packed and ready to travel?”
Faith nodded, her eyes filling with admiration, thankfulness and unshed tears. “Yes. And this time I’m not a bit afraid.”
“Because Tucker’s dead?”
“No,” she said, sliding her hand through the crook of her husband’s arm. “Because you’re here. I can face anything with you as my guide.”
Connell patted her hand and chuckled. “Just as long as you don’t confront any more chiefs like Black Kettle and scare me to death, I’ll be content.”
Faith giggled behind her free hand. “Do you really think I’m a legend?”
“If you aren’t already on account of Ab’s or Walks With Tree’s tall tales, you soon will be,” he said with conviction. “By the time Irene—Singing Sun Woman—and Red Deer have told our whole story over and over in the camps it’ll be common knowledge that Little Dove Woman is a force to be feared and admired.”
“Just so long as my husband feels the same way,” she teased, giggling nervously. “I think I’m more afraid of disappointing you than I was of any wild Indian. I just hope I can be…”
“Kiss her!” someone yelled. A chorus of similar suggestions swelled.
Connell smiled as he bent to do as the crowd wanted. An instant before their lips met he whispered, “I believe I’ve finally figured out how to stop you from talking out of turn.”
“Well, it beats a spear in the side,” was all Faith managed to say before he silenced her with a kiss.
She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. After all they’d been through, she guessed she could allow him to think he had the upper hand. At least for a little while.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-1443-3
FRONTIER COURTSHIP
Copyright © 2008 by Valerie Whisenand
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Steeple Hill Books.
® and TM are trademarks of Steeple Hill Books, used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.