Winter's Touch (32 page)

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Authors: Janis Reams Hudson

BOOK: Winter's Touch
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“Bess…” Winter Fawn was at a loss. Was she to tell them all, straight out, that Carson did not love her? Was she to humiliate herself in such a way?

“You asked my daughter to marry ye without talkin’ to me first?” Innes demanded.

“If she’d been agreeable,” Carson said, his words clipped, “I would have come to you. Since she wasn’t, there’s not much point, is there?”

Innes pushed back his chair and stood. “Let’s be takin’ ourselves a little stroll, lass.” It was not said as a request. He held his hand out to Winter Fawn.

Reluctantly, she stood.

“Take my shawl, dear,” Gussie told Winter Fawn. “It’s there on the peg by the door. I declare, the nights get downright chilly out here.”

As Winter Fawn turned away from the table, Bess gripped her hand. “Change your mind, please. Stay here forever with us.”

Winter Fawn tried to speak, but couldn’t. She followed her father onto the porch and out into the yard.

The air was cool, the star-studded sky black. She took a deep breath and let it out, silently praying for strength, for help.

Her father took a drink from his flask. The fumes stung her eyes and pinched her nostrils.

“So, the lad asked ye to marry him.”

As far as Winter Fawn was concerned, his comment required to response from her.

“What? Ye’ve nothin’ to say?”

She heaved a sigh. “Aye, he asked me.”

“And ye turned him down.”

“What is this?” she cried. “Not too long ago you were telling me to stay away from him.”

“That was different. Now we’re talking marriage. Lass,” he said, his voice softening in a way she hadn’t heard since she was a child. “I’ve seen with my own eyes that he appeals to ye.”

“He disnae love me, Da.”

“He said as much?”

“’Tis what he didna say that tells me.”

“Ah, so now ye be readin’ his mind, is that it?”

“No,” she said crossly. “I asked him right out if he loved me. He didna answer. That was answer enough, do ye no think?”

“Few enough marriages start out with love, lass.”

“Yours did. You and Mother loved each other.”

Innes felt the squeeze around his heart at the mention of Smiling Woman. God, but the lass had the right of it. He and Smiling Woman had loved each other like there was no tomorrow. Now their daughter stood before him a grown woman. Never had he been more unsure of himself. Never had he missed Smiling Woman’s wise counsel more than at this moment.

“Aye,” he said finally. “That we did. But…”

“But I should settle for less?”

“Tell me, lass, what would have happened if Carson Dulaney and his family had never come along?”

Winter Fawn looked at him warily. “What do you mean?”

“Ye said yerself that other girls your age are long since married, with children of their own. If things had no turned out the way they had when I came to the village this time, Crooked Oak would have offered for you.”

“Ye wouldna have accepted!” she protested.

“No him, nae. But there would have been other offers. Chances are I would have accepted one and you might already have a husband. Aside from yer mother and me, I know of no other marriage among Our People that was not arranged by the girl’s family. Is this not true?”

“Aye,” she said reluctantly. “So?”

“Most of those couples were not in love when they married, yet many came to love each other. Do ye think I wouldna have accepted an offer and arranged yer marriage if Crooked Oak hadna attacked us? Lord, lass, ‘tis time ye took a husband.”

“You wouldna arrange a match with Carson,” she said, horrified. “Da, you wouldna.”

Innes narrowed his eyes. “And why wouldna I? Why shouldna I do that very thing? He’s a good man. He can provide for you. With him ye’ll be safer than with any man in the tribe.”

“Da—”

“Nae, dinna fash yerself, lass. I’ll no force the issue. Not just yet. Not if ye promise me ye’ll think on it. Ye may think he disnae love ye, but from what I see, I’m thinkin’ maybe he just disnae know it yet.”

“Nae.” She shook her head. “He likes me well enough.”

Innes hooted. “Aye, and ye dinna mind lookin’ at him too much yerself. Lass, ye must have a husband soon. This world is no place for a woman alone.”

“I’m not alone, Da. I have you. Unless,” she added with a touch of hurt in her voice that she could not disguise, “you’re going to leave me again.”

“Nae, I’ll no be leavin’ ye, lass. Not apurpose. But I’m old. I canna provide for ye forever. Carson can. Promise me ye’ll think on it.”

To please her father, Winter Fawn gave him the promise he sought. She only wished she did not want so badly to be Carson’s wife. She wished she did not want so badly for Carson to love her.

Saturday morning they headed out for town. Carson drove the wagon, with Gussie sitting next to him. Winter Fawn had insisted on riding in the back with Bess and Megan. Hunter and the men accompanied them on horseback.

They were nearly there when Innes cursed and drew his horse to a halt.

Carson drew the team up and called back, “What’s wrong?”

Innes dismounted and lifted the left forefoot of his horse, the lowered it. “Loose shoe,” he called back. “I’ll be seein’ about it in town.”

Carson gave a nod, then, when Innes remounted, urged the team forward.

Badito was a small, dusty town that served the needs of the outlying ranches up and down the Huerfano. It sat at the point where the Yellowstone Creek emptied into the river, just below the southern tip of the Wet Mountains. Just north rose a pointed peak, small compared to other mountains, but isolated so that it stood out, especially when coming from the east. Word was that it rose to over eight thousand feet above sea level.

The town boasted two saloons, a combination livery and blacksmith shop, a general store, a post office, and a few scattered houses.

As they rode into town, people stepped into doorways and peered out windows to watch.

Carson pulled the wagon to a stop next to the general store and helped Gussie down. Innes was there for Winter Fawn and the girls. Winter Fawn walked past Carson and joined Gussie without looking at him.

“You ladies get whatever you need in the store,” he said to Gussie. He wanted to remind her not to forget material for a dress for Winter Fawn, but hell, it was she who had noticed the need in the first place. He didn’t figure she needed reminding. He didn’t figure Winter Fawn would appreciate his saying anything, either. She didn’t seem to appreciate much of anything he did or said lately.

He turned toward Hunter. “While we go see about that horseshoe, why don’t you go with them and pick yourself out some shirts and denims?”

Hunter looked to his father. When Innes nodded, the boy, face expressionless, followed the ladies toward the store.

Carson turned away and accompanied Innes down the sunbaked street toward the livery.

Winter Fawn sighed as he walked away. She did not know what to do. She wanted so much to be with him, to stay with him. But she wasn’t sure she could bear knowing he did not feel the same.

Yes, he had asked her to marry him. But she feared that was more a matter of convenience for him. A woman to share his bed and be a mother to his daughter.

She had had an ache in her heart for days. Now it moved to her head and throbbed behind her eyes. This heaviness of spirit was not like her. With an effort, she shrugged it off and turned back to follow Gussie and the girls into the store.

The door to the store stood open. As Gussie stepped near, a woman came out and blocked the way.

Winter Fawn stiffened.

“You!” cried Mrs. Linderman. “Mr. Hernandez doesn’t allow savages in his store. We don’t allow savages in this town.”

Having never been exposed to hate before, Winter Fawn was at a loss.

Not so, Gussie. “I declare, I’m pleased to hear it.” In an elaborate gesture, she looked around at Winter Fawn, at Bess and Megan and Hunter, then up and down the street. “It must be working. I don’t see a single savage in sight. How do you do? I’m Mrs. Winthrop, late of Atlanta.”

Bess had trouble holding back a giggle.

Mrs. Linderman made a low, snarling sound of rage in her throat and stomped away down the street.

“My, my,” Gussie said beneath her breath. “What an unpleasant woman.”

“That,” Bess informed her, “was the housekeeper Carson fired.”

“I always knew that boy had a good head on his shoulders.” Gussie lowered her parasol and stepped through the doorway and into the dim interior of the store. “Girls, shall we get busy? I declare, it’s been simply ages since I’ve shopped. I’ve a terrible need to spend some of Carson’s money.”

It was the most unpleasant hour of Winter Fawn’s life. She could not indulge her fascination with all the wonderful sights and smells in the store, for everywhere she turned, she felt the shopkeeper’s eyes, narrow and suspicious, on her. Two women swept their skirts aside when she or Hunter neared, as though the material would be contaminated beyond redemption if it should brush against one of them. Another man stared at her every bit as intently as the man behind the counter, but his look was not suspicious; he looked at her as though she wore no clothes, or as though given half a chance, he would rip her clothes from her body and not care in the least that she might object.

She was not even aware of what Gussie was buying, so miserable was she.

And Bess, bless her, was not enjoying herself either, for she had obviously appointed herself Winter Fawn’s guardian and refused to leave her side.

I do not belong here,
Winter Fawn thought. How could Carson want to marry someone his own kind hated? If he married her, would not they soon come to hate him, too? And Megan, and Bess, and anyone else close to him?

She was right to refuse him.

She watched dully as Gussie helped Hunter select three work shirts and two pairs of denim pants like the ones Carson wore.

“Take these.” He handed the pile of clothing to Winter Fawn. “I’m getting out of here.”

Eyes wide, she watched her brother desert her and step out into the street.

Hunter was sorry to leave his sister in that place, but he figured that Carson’s aunt could handle anything that might happen. If he had stayed there a moment longer watching those men stare at Winter Fawn, watching the women draw their skirts aside, he would have done something foolish, like draw his knife and flourish it before the next person to insult his sister.

And foolish it would have been. The only thing that had stopped him was knowing that Winter Fawn would have been humiliated by such an act. She was well able to stand up for herself. He’d seen her do it a dozen times. Why she did not spit in their faces, he didn’t know.

That was not true. He did know. Her spirit was troubled by Carson’s offer of marriage. She should just accept and be done with it. She would give in eventually. It was what she wanted; it was what was best for her. Why their father was allowing her to make everyone miserable, he did not know. Grandfather would not have put up with such behavior.

But maybe in the white world things were different.

Shaking his head, he stepped into the shadows of the livery stables, and directly into more trouble.

“What did you say?”

Hunter had never heard Carson’s voice so quiet and cold before, nor had he ever seen his eyes look so hard.

The man he spoke to wiggled a finger in his ear. He was half a head shorter than Carson, with lank, greasy hair that was probably brown when clean—if it was ever clean—but looked black. He wore denim pants, with suspenders over a red flannel undershirt, and his hands were grimy.

“The squaw,” he said. “You let me have her for a couple o’ hours and I’ll loan you the use of my plow so’s you don’t need no new handle on yours.”

“Why, you—”

“Okay, okay,” the man said quickly. “Maybe a couple o’ hours is too much. An hour. I’ll just take her out back here—”

Innes let out a low grown and lunged. “Why, you filthy-minded—

“Oh, no.” Carson caught Innes at the last minute before his hands closed on the man’s throat. “Allow me.” He rammed his right fist into the man’s mouth.

The man grunted in surprise and pain. Blood spurted from his busted lips. “What was that for?”

“For the hell of it.” Carson hit him again.

This time the man went down, out cold.

Innes scowled. “I thought you said you came west because you were tired of fighting. Now look at ye.”

“I’m not all that fond of fighting,” Carson said, prowling through the tools on the work bench for the one he needed to pull the shoe from the horse, since it looked like they were going to have to serve themselves. “But what I actually said was that I was tired of killing. I meant with guns. Fists are different.”

“Ah.” Innes let out a satisfied sigh. “A man after my own heart.”

As neither man had yet to notice Hunter, he slipped back out the door and returned to the store. He knew that neither his father nor Carson would tell Winter Fawn what had happened, but Hunter would. The livery man was a danger to her. She should be made aware.

In the noise and confusion of loading their purchases into the wagon and getting ready to leave a half hour later, Hunter managed to get Winter Fawn aside and tell her what had happened.

What he told her only served to harden her resolve. She must leave. She was bringing Carson and his family nothing but trouble. First the woman, Mrs. Linderman, then the men and women in the store whom Gussie had to stare down more than once, and now this.

No, she could not stay and cause more trouble.

But where would she go? She doubted her father would take her to join the tribe for the summer. He wanted her to stay and marry Carson.

The thought of leaving her father brought almost as much pain as the thought of leaving Carson.

Where would she go? How would she live?

The questions plagued her all the way home.

At some point during the trip she realized that she and the girls were now sharing the wagon bed with not only the supplies purchased in town, but also a crate of baby chicks. They were cute and fuzzy, but could not hold Winter Fawn’s attention. Nor could the cow that was following them, although Winter Fawn did think to wonder why a cow would follow them home. Then she saw the rope that tethered it to the back of the wagon. Why would a man who raised cattle go to town and buy a cow?

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