Teton Splendor (13 page)

“Sophie is heading back to Boston after she meets her grandfather,” Joseph said with as much conviction as he could muster. He tried to keep the regret out of his voice. There was no sense harboring feelings for a woman who would be gone from his life again in a few months.

“If you say so.” Chase shrugged, and led the way up the boardwalk. They hadn’t gone far, when he stopped abruptly, and Joseph nearly collided with him. He nudged his chin at something up ahead.

“Going back to Boston, huh?” he asked smugly.

Joseph stared. Coming toward them were two giggling women. The blond wore a rose colored dress with a flower pattern and white lace trim at the collar. Her skirts swished lively around her legs. She wasn’t the one who caught his eye, however. The raven-haired woman walking next to her almost reminded him of an Indian brave if not for her decisive feminine curves. Buckskin britches hugged her slender legs, and a leather belt bunched the material of a tan cotton shirt around her waist. She walked gracefully beside her companion, her feet wrapped in moccasins that laced up to her knees. No one would ever guess that, several weeks ago, she wore gowns that probably cost more money than he would ever see in his lifetime.  Joseph’s throat tightened, and he made a futile attempt to swallow. Sweat beaded his forehead.

“Raven,” he whispered under his breath.

She turned her head toward him in that instant, her face glowing with a radiant smile. Joseph held his breath. She’d never looked more beautiful. What would it take to have her smile like that for him? Their eyes met, and her step faltered for a moment. The smile froze on her face, but she raised her chin proudly and continued walking toward him.

“Doesn’t look like a woman who has plans to return to Boston.” Chase elbowed him in the side. “You’d best take those blinders off real quick, or you might lose what’s right in front of your eyes.” He winked, and stepped out to meet his daughter. 

Chapter Thirteen

“We’ll stop here for the night.” Joseph turned in his saddle and glanced her way before directing his attention toward Caleb. “Help Sophie set up camp. I won’t be far.” Abruptly, he wheeled his horse in the direction they had just come from.

Sophia stared after him and sighed. She ground her teeth in frustration. All day, he’d been more silent than usual. Trying to engage him in conversation had been about as successful as squeezing water from a rock.  After endless weeks on the trail, they had parted ways this morning with Chase Russell and his family. She already missed the company of Sam Osborne’s wife, Summer Rain. The Shoshone woman had taught her so much during their time spent together, and Sophia had been determined to learn all that she could. The looks of satisfaction Joseph cast her way on occasion when she worked alongside the woman warmed her insides. 

“Some men require much time to understand what their heart feels,” Summer Rain had told her one day after Sophia served Joseph the first meal she had prepared herself. His simple thank you without further comment had left her on the verge of tears.

“What am I doing wrong?” she’d blurted in frustration to her new friend. The perceptive woman had already guessed at Sophia’s feelings for Joseph shortly after they left St. Louis. It felt good to confide in another woman, and Summer Rain was easy to talk to. She wasn’t sure she could have even discussed such things with Lucy.

Summer Rain patted her hand, and offered an encouraging smile. “In time, he will come to see what his heart is telling him.”

When it came to Joseph, Sophia doubted the woman’s words. The man didn’t seem to know what he wanted when it came to matters of the heart. His confusing behavior toward her over the weeks was more than perplexing; it was downright frustrating.

Under Summer Rain’s guidance, Sophia had learned how to set up and tear down a camp efficiently, cook meals over a campfire, along with some useful Shoshone words. She had told her that the Bannock were close relatives of the Shoshone, and their language was very similar.

The work to set up camp at the end of a long day on horseback was challenging to say the least, and for the first few weeks, Sophia had simply wanted to crawl under her sleeping blanket from exhaustion every night. Determined to prove to Joseph that she wasn’t weak, she fought through the discomfort, until it didn’t seem so difficult anymore to build a fire, tend to her horse, and cook a meal when she’d rather just rest.

The love between Summer Rain and her husband, Sam Osborne, was evident for anyone to see, and they both doted on their young son, Josh. Sophia had observed the couple discreetly when they sat close together at the campfire in the evenings, the smiles they cast each other throughout the day, or the subtle ways they touched hands whenever they were near each other. She wondered if her own parents had shared this kind of love. Her eyes would often seek out Joseph, wishing she could tell him of her feelings for him. He almost seemed to go out of his way to avoid her. A few times she’d caught him staring at her from afar, with a look she would almost describe as yearning in his eyes, which he masked the moment she looked his way. Confused at his behavior, she’d kept her distance as well. 

All the more perplexing was the look in his eyes that day in St. Louis, when she’d walked up the boardwalk with Kara after changing clothes at the dressmaker’s shop. Even then, she’d read a desire, a longing in his gaze that had sent heat through her much like the one and only time he held her and kissed her.

“You look . . . different,” he’d said when she finally stood in front of him. Clearing his throat, his eyes drifted over her and, to her utter disappointment, the fire extinguished in their blue depths. “This will be much more practical than wearing silk gowns through the wilderness.”

Chase chuckled next to him and shook his head. “Blinders, Joey. Blinders,” he’d said before reaching for Kara’s arm and leading the way to his brother-in-law’s home.

Sudden anger had shot through her. More practical? That was all he could say? Sophia glared at him, fighting back the tears that threatened in her eyes.

“I suppose it’s better than looking like a trollop,” she answered through clenched teeth. She turned on her heels to follow Kara without a backward glance at the most infuriating man she’d ever met in her life. Joseph would never see her as anything but a Boston-raised socialite. She was now all the more determined to prove him wrong, even if he never admitted he had feelings for her.

Sophia had never seen more desolate or beautiful country as they headed into the wilderness. They traveled up along the Missouri River for weeks, where the land was flat and without much change in scenery. It seemed daunting to cross the endless sea of dry grassland that swayed with the relentless winds. Dabbing animal grease on her dry and cracking lips like Summer Rain showed her to do, Sophia often longed for the comforts of Boston.

After weeks of travel, the flat prairie gave way to a dark-colored mountain range that looked almost black from a distance.

 “The Lakota call them the
Paha Sapa
, the Black Hills,” Chase pointed out to her when she asked if they had finally reached their destination. These were not the Tetons Joseph spoke so fondly of. Apparently they still had a long way to go.

Sophia’s first experience with Indians other than Summer Rain occurred during their trek through this mountain range. Apprehension filled her when a group of half-naked warriors on horseback met them one day. All of them carried bows and arrows, and some even had rifles. She soon learned how friendly this group of Indians was after they invited them all to spend a night at their village. The encounter was much different from the accounts of blood-thirsty savages she’d heard about in Boston. Nothing could have been further from the truth. These people were hospitable and fun-loving, and their harsh nomadic lifestyle centered around their families.

More than one warrior had cast admiring looks her way, and Sophia had remained close to Summer Rain during their stay with the Lakota. The women had looked at her in astonishment when she had trouble communicating with them. Even without knowing their language, Summer Rain had at least been able to converse via hand signals and gestures, leaving Sophia feeling awkward and out of place.

It was during that night at the village that she’d caught Joseph casting a look of longing and desire at her that sent hot waves of some unknown need through her. For the first time, he hadn’t looked away when she caught him staring. He’d hovered nearby that day, raising her hopes that he’d finally come to his senses and would acknowledge that he had feelings for her.  When he came into the tent she had been given to share with Caleb for the night, her heart pounded in her chest with anticipation. Was this the moment she’d been wishing for? Sophia sat up straighter on her palette, and quickly ran her fingers through her hair.

“These people assume that you’re my wife,” he told her when he ducked through the tent’s opening. “It wouldn’t look right if I slept outside. They might think you threw me out.” The grin on his face vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a fleeting look of anger.

“Oh,” she managed to produce, her throat  dry. It was the last thing she had expected him to say. “Why would they think that we’re married?”

“I told them.” His eyes locked onto hers for what seemed like an eternity. Sophia scarcely dared to breathe.

“Why would you tell them something like that?” she managed to choke out. There wasn’t another man on this earth she could see herself married to. If only he didn’t need to lie about it.  At times like this, when he looked at her with such undeniable admiration, she was certain that he had feelings for her, but why was he holding back? She desperately wanted to go to him, and tell him that she loved him. She fisted her hands in her lap. He was only a few feet away. It would be so easy to reach out to him. Glancing at Caleb sitting on his palette, whittling on a stick with his knife, this was not the right time. Just as it was never the right time during their hours on the trail, surrounded by his friends.

“Because you might get offers from several warriors by the time we leave here if they don’t think you’ve already got a husband. Unless, of course, you fancy yourself marrying a Lakota.”  Joseph’s lips twitched at the corners, a sparkle of humor in his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat in her chest.

“Good night, Sophie,” he said abruptly without waiting for a response, and stretched out on the palette on the opposite side of the fire, and turned his back to her.

“Good night, Joseph,” she whispered, fighting the urge to crawl to him and kiss him like she did that day at the river. Disappointment washed over her. She pulled the fur covers from her palette over her head instead, and allowed the tears to run silently down her cheeks.

****

After watching Joseph disappear behind a stand of tall lodgepole pine trees, Sophia pulled her right leg over the back of the saddle, eased her left foot out of the stirrup, and jumped lightly to the ground. Riding astride had taken some getting used to, but so had wearing britches and moccasins. Every day, she was thankful to Kara Russell for the clothing. Men definitely had the right idea. The thought of wearing a dress seemed almost laughable now. She rubbed absently at her backside while the feeling slowly tingled back to life in her thighs. At least her muscles no longer screamed in agony after endless hours in the saddle.

The bit jingled when her gelding shook his head and his body like a wet dog. His tail swished loudly at the swarm of evening bugs in the air. It was the horse’s customary routine every evening after someone called a halt for the day, and Sophia had learned fast that she needed to get off his back as quickly as possible if she didn’t want her body jarred by his shaking. She patted him lightly on the neck and led him to the creek that gurgled through the grass in front of her.

Crickets chirped loudly, the raspy sounds mingling with the croaking of frogs and the whirring of endless bugs that thickened the air. The noise had become as familiar to her over the weeks as the nonstop clopping of horses’ hooves on the cobblestone streets had been in Boston. Sophia knelt beside her mount, and cupped her hand in the clear water. The evening sunlight reflected off the surface, shimmering and dancing like millions of diamonds. She squinted against the dazzling brightness, and lifted her hand to her mouth. The refreshing liquid eased the soreness of her parched throat. After drinking her fill, she splashed some water on her face, then stood and pressed her hands into her lower back.

Sophia lifted her head and gazed off into the distance. The snow-capped peaks of a jagged mountain range to the south had become more visible throughout the day with each mile they covered.  With a gleam of excitement in his eyes, Joseph had told her that those mountains were their destination. They were finally close to the Teewinots. Another two days and they would reach his family’s homestead. Somehow she had already known. It was as if the majestic peaks were calling out, drawing her to them.

It’s where I was born. Of course there’s a connection.

Sophia’s heart sped up at the thought. What kind of welcome would she receive? What was Joseph’s family like? Would they judge her for being Boston raised? Then there was the meeting with her Bannock grandfather. She would finally come face to face with someone who was truly a blood relative. Would he look at her and see a white woman? Sophia shook her head. She couldn’t dwell on these thoughts. She wasn’t even sure herself what she was – white or Bannock.  She might have shed her Boston clothes, but there was so much she didn’t know about her heritage. Even though she dressed like an Indian, in her heart, who was she?

Sophia unpacked the horses while Caleb started a fire. At the sound of another horse snorting, she turned her head toward the stand of thick pines that outlined the small meadow where she stood. Joseph had returned, a pleased look on his face as he surveyed their camp. He pulled his leg over the back of his saddle, and landed lightly on his feet.

This is where I want to belong. With him.

Their eyes met and held for a moment. Sophia swallowed.  He turned his back to her, then led his mount to the creek to drink. After rummaging in his saddlebags, he handed his horse’s reins to Caleb.

“You think you can gut and skin these rabbits by yourself?” he asked, handing Caleb several dead rabbits strung together by their hind legs.

“Yessir,” Caleb nodded, his face beaming.  Sophia couldn’t help but smile. The boy’s adoration of Joseph was as strong as her own. At least the boy didn’t have any qualms about showing it.