Martha bustled around the fire, slicing off pieces of the deer she’d had roasting most of the afternoon and early evening. “You’ve done a good thing,” she said as she handed Parker his plate. “You’ve allowed the Comanche to deal with their own without bringing white men laws into it. That will make it easier for the chief to do what needs to be done for the best of his people.”
“Because I’m a deputy, my first instinct is to handle it with the law, but I understand that things are different out here,” Parker replied. He glanced over at Posy, who was chatting with Jesse next to the fire. “And I want to make your daughter proud of me. That’s worth more than a hundred horses.”
Martha smiled. “You love her.”
“I . . .” Parker wasn’t sure how to reply to such a straightforward question. “I think I might. I’m not sure yet.”
“You are. You just don’t know it yet.” Martha looked over her shoulder at her children, then back at Parker. “You’re a good man, and you learn quickly and show appreciation. I think you will make Posy very happy. But you must learn how to balance the ways of her people and the ways of yours. Talk about your expectations. She won’t be like a white wife, and you won’t be like an Indian husband. Talk. Communicate. Then you will be happy.”
Martha moved on to serving up more meat, leaving Parker holding his plate and feeling utterly bewildered. He’d just been given marriage advice from a woman who believed he was marrying her daughter, but he was barely on speaking terms with her daughter. How could he marry her when they had only recently decided to make amends?
The more he thought about it, though, the more the thought appealed to him. Posy was everything he’d believed he wanted in a wife, plus some things he didn’t know he wanted until he saw them in her. Could they really make this work? Could they compromise sufficiently, could they learn each other’s strengths and weaknesses and learn to work together through them all?
He didn’t know, but it did sound like a lot of fun to try.
Chapter Thirteen
Posy nudged her horse until she was riding next to Jesse. Parker was a short distance ahead, getting to know his new horse, and Jesse was leading the animal that was now without a rider. “I talked to Mother this morning before we left,” she told him. “She repeated almost everything you said—she talked about being willing to forgive and looking inside someone’s heart and making sure that I knew both sides of the story before I rushed into judgment. The two of you think the same way, and I didn’t realize that until now.”
“Martha’s a smart woman,” Jesse replied. “I’m honored if we share the same viewpoint on things. Especially when it comes to you—it’s nice that we won’t be giving you conflicting advice.”
“It’s nice for you, but I feel like my entire family is out to set me straight,” Posy said. “Father even took me aside and told me how much he likes Parker. Your little plan worked—everyone’s in love with him now.”
“Including you?” Jesse asked with humor in his voice.
“I barely know the man! We haven’t spoken more than a dozen civil sentences to each other this whole trip.”
“Then why are you riding next to me? Get on up there and talk to the man.” Jesse leaned over and swatted the rump of Posy’s horse, making it take off and run toward Parker.
Posy laughed as she gripped the reins harder and came up beside Parker. “How are the two of you getting along?” she asked.
“Pretty well. She’s a bit skittish—she’s not sure what to make of this bridle,” he said. Jesse had explained that the horse would need to be broken to a saddle before Parker could try riding her that way, so he was doing the best he could bareback. Jesse had helped him fashion a simple bridle in the meantime out of a length of rope, but even that much restriction was making the horse jittery.
“She’s used to running free,” Posy explained. “She’s had riders, but she’s not used to taking directions from them.”
“So, what should I do?” Parker asked. “I want her to trust me, but I don’t know how to control her.”
“Then don’t even try. Let her have her head.”
“You mean . . .”
“Take off the bridle and simply hang on to her mane. Hang on tight, though—she’s a plains pony, and that means that she can run for miles under these clear blue skies without getting tired.”
Parker looked unsure, but then he removed the rope bridle and coiled up the rope, hanging it over one arm. Then he grasped the mare’s mane tightly. “All right, girl,” he said into her ear. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
As soon as he said those words, the horse took off, her hooves eating up the dirt like the miles were nothing. Parker was holding on as though he was riding a bucking bronco, and Posy laughed as she urged her horse to keep up.
When at last Parker’s horse came to a stop, he looked exhausted and more than a bit terrified. “I didn’t think she was ever going to stop,” he said as he slid to the ground. “Where does she get so much energy?”
“That’s how the plains ponies are. They’re used to running for hours at a time.” Posy took the rope from Parker, surprised that he’d been able to maintain his grip on it, and looped it around the palomino’s neck. “Time for a rest, though. All the horses will appreciate this stream.”
They made sure each animal had its fill of water, taking the opportunity to walk around a bit and stretch their legs. Parker crouched down at the water’s edge and skipped some rocks. Posy studied him while his back was turned. She could see a change in him—this journey had done him good, and she felt a change within herself as well. Her anger had disappeared. She was still bothered by what had happened between the two of them, but it didn’t carry the barb it had when it first happened.
Parker came to his feet and walked over next to her, leaning on the tree near where she stood. “Posy, I need to tell you something,” he said, his voice sober. “It’s not important anymore, but I think you should know.”
She wasn’t sure she was ready for more startling revelations, but she nodded. Better to hear him out now than be unpleasantly surprised later.
“I just started my new job, as you know, and taking this time off . . . well, I told Colonel Gordon that I might have a lead on the horse thieves, and that I’d bring him whatever information I gathered. That was the only way I could justify leaving so soon after I started.”
Posy whirled to face him. “But you accepted the horse, the peace offering. You can’t . . .” She pulled in a breath and tried not to shout. “You can’t tell the colonel about the Comanche. Don’t you understand the problems that would cause?”
He held up a hand. “I’m not going to tell him,” he said. “We don’t have any evidence. The chief didn’t even know for sure if it was his braves, and we can’t base an arrest on that.”
She met his eyes. He looked concerned, but he also looked sincere. “Are you worried Colonel Gordon will think the horse was a bribe? It wasn’t, you know—the chief was trying to set things right by giving you back something that had been stolen from you. It’s entirely different.”
“I know that. If it had come from anyone else, yes, it might be considered a bribe, but given the circumstances, I do understand that he was trying to right a wrong. I won’t report it as a bribe to the colonel.” Parker reached out and took Posy’s hand, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. “I didn’t realize the delicate balance that exists between the two worlds until now. This has been very difficult for you, hasn’t it?”
She looked down at their joined hands. “More than I can even explain. We live on the same land, we travel the same roads, and yet we’re as different as though we lived on two entirely different continents. My brother has taken what he admires most about each culture and brought them together to create his own sort of lifestyle, one that makes him happy and suits him so well, but I . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to draw a line down the middle of myself that way. Your culture complicates things so much. You ha
ve social rules that don’t make any sense at all, and you’re so tied down with your belongings and your careers and your reputations. I don’t know how you do it, honestly.”
“I don’t either.” Parker chuckled. “Miranda has often commented on how tired she is of living up to everyone’s expectations of what a proper young lady should be. I think she’d welcome the opportunity to throw herself on horseback and ride across the prairie without the gossips wagging their tongues about it.” He brought up his other hand to caress Posy’s cheek. His touch was warm and gentle, and it sent tingles down Posy’s spine. “Have I ruined everything forever?” he asked softly.
“At first, I thought you had,” she replied. He deserved the same kind of honesty he was giving her. “You hurt me badly, Parker. I couldn’t even see straight, I was so angry with you.” Her voice hitched. She didn’t want to admit to having these feelings, but in that moment, she didn’t think she could hide them. “When Jesse told me what you’d been through, about your father, I didn’t want to feel compassion for you. I couldn’t see past my anger. But now . . .” She shrugged. “Now I’m ready to listen, and I’m also ready to be heard.”
“I’m glad. I’m so very glad.” Parker rested his hand on her shoulder, his fingers brushing her neck. “The truth is, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I first saw you brandishing that pistol at those idiots on the street. There’s something about you, Posy, something that draws me in. You have a uniqueness to you, an undefinable quality, that has made it impossible for me to concentrate on anything else. It’s only fair that you know that I’m falling in love with you—quite hard, in fact. I don’t think there’s going to be any recovery.”
Posy smiled, feeling a little smug. “Hmm. That’s rather interesting.”
“What is?”
“This uniqueness you say I have . . . isn’t it interesting that the very thing that draws you in is the very thing you’ve struggled with? Everything that’s different about me, everything that sets me apart, comes from my Indian culture.”
He opened his mouth to reply, closed it again, and chuckled. “You’re right,” he said. “I can’t deny it. Everything I admire about you does come from your heritage, and I can’t admire something and hate it at the same time. I don’t hate it anymore, Posy. I promise you that.”
“You do?” Oh, she so badly wanted to believe him.
“I’m angry with my father’s murderers, but I’m convinced of what you’ve been trying to tell me—that he was killed by men who acted of their own accord, and that I can’t blame the entire Indian nation for what happened. That was foolish thinking on my part, a way of thinking that began when I was much younger and that I never bothered to correct as I got older. I won’t make that mistake again. I will judge a man for a man, regardless of his race, based solely on his actions alone.”
Posy’s heart warmed. His sincerity was written on his face, and she could feel his soul behind his words. He truly was sorry—she knew it on a level deep within her gut. “Thank you,” she replied. “And in return, I’ll seek for understanding before I let my anger carry me away.”
He grinned. “So, what happens now?”
“Well, I think that generally when two people have been arguing and then they make amends, there’s some sort of kiss to seal the bargain. At least, that’s what I’ve heard happens in the white world. If we were both Indians, you’d go kill a deer and present me with the cleaned carcass. I’m teasing about that, by the way.”
“About the deer, or about the kiss?” He leaned in until his lips were just inches from hers, and she swallowed.
“About the deer. I don’t know enough about kissing to tease about it.”
“I think we should do something about that.” He slid his hand behind her head and drew her in for a kiss. For a fleeting second, she wondered where Jesse had gotten to, but then she forgot all about Jesse and leaned into Parker’s arms. He smelled like sagebrush and cinnamon, and his arms around her felt sure and steady.
He ended the kiss, but didn’t let her go. “I must say, for someone who’s never been kissed before, you do that very nicely, Miss McVey.”
“I didn’t do anything—I just stood here,” she replied.
“No, you contributed quite a bit. I’ve never been so shaken by a kiss before.” He lowered his arms and took a step back. “In fact, you’ve given me only one choice.”
“I have? What’s that?”
“I need to keep my distance from you until I’ve spoken with your brother about marrying you. I can’t be kissing you like that again unless I know I have the right to do it.”
“Marrying me?” She blinked, but then smiled. It was a nice thought. Very nice indeed.
“Yes.” He reached out to touch her again, but dropped his hand. “I know we have a lot to work through and a great many long conversations to hold, but I very much want to marry you, Posy McVey. But I shouldn’t even bring it up until I’ve spoken with your brother—unless you’d rather I ride back to the village and talk to Abraham.”
She laughed, delighted. “There’s no need. Talking to Jesse is perfectly fine. And yes, please do.”
Parker grinned. “I think I’ll do that right now. Where is he?”
Posy shielded her eyes from the sun and turned in a circle. “Oh, there he is,” she said. “Over by those willows, pretending to ignore us.”
“I’ll be right back.” Parker gave her a wink, and she watched as he made his way along the water’s edge to where her brother stood. It was quite amazing how she’d gone from detesting the man to wanting to spend the rest of her life with him. It looked like Jesse’s little plan had worked—they’d both changed in all the best ways.
***
Parker couldn’t help but grin over at Posy as they continued their ride. Jesse had readily agreed to the engagement, and they’d decided to marry at Christmas. This would give Parker time to settle in to his job and to prepare a home for them. His initial thought was to build on to the house they were renting, but he’d need to speak with the owner and perhaps even buy it. He pictured Miranda’s face when he told her—she’d be thrilled for him, and the addition to the house would include a larger bedroom for her so they could all live comfortably. Waiting until Christmas would be difficult, but they needed that time to work through their differences and to understand each other more fully—they both felt that would be the wisest choice.
The stars seemed particularly bright that night as they settled down to sleep, and the air a little sweeter. Parker suspected that he was appreciating these things more because he was so happy, but maybe Mother Nature really was putting on her best show for them.
They were all eager to return to Topeka after so long away, so they packed up quickly the next morning and set out, deciding to skip breakfast and eat later. They had been riding for about an hour when Jesse called out, “We have a problem.”
Parker turned in his saddle to see four men riding after them, rifles in their hands, although not brought up into a firing position. “Who are they?”
“Men who don’t want Posy leaving Indian territory.” Jesse spurred his horse to go faster, and Parker followed suit. Posy lay low along her horse’s neck, concentration on her face.
Parker’s mind raced. He wasn’t as familiar with this road as Jesse was, but he didn’t think there was a town nearby, no place for them to find shelter. How were they going to get away?
He heard the crack of a rifle behind him, and his heart clenched. These men didn’t want to scare them away—chasing them would have accomplished that. No, they wanted to hurt and even kill them. They only had one choice.
“Make for that stand of trees,” he yelled, and without questioning him, Jesse turned his horse.
The three of them slid off their horses as soon as they were in the shelter of the thicket, and Jesse dropped to his knees, peering out at the landscape. “They’re just a few minutes behind us,” he said. “Are you ready for this?”
Parker nodd
ed. “I wish it weren’t so, but yes.”
Posy stood by the horses, their reins in one hand, her pistol in the other.
“Stand firm,” Jesse said, and Parker nodded. He wouldn’t do one thing unless it was justified.
The men who were chasing them soon reached their hiding place and dismounted. “Well now, this wasn’t a very wise decision, was it?” one of them said to his friends. “It’s not like they’re really hiding—it was plain as day where they went.”
“Some folks aren’t too clever,” another one replied. “Come out, little squaw. It’s time for you to go back where you belong.”
Parker flinched as he remembered saying something very similar just a week before, and he now understood why that was so offensive to Posy. He knew she’d forgiven him, but he still wished there was a way to erase everything that had happened so she would never hear those words coming from his mouth.
“Yes, little squaw. Time for you to come with us,” a third man said, and they all laughed.
The first one entered the trees, his rifle ready to be fired. “We don’t want no trouble today. Just give us the Indian, and the rest of you can go free. No harm done.”
Jesse stepped out from behind the tree where he’d been waiting. “I think it’s best if you leave now, gentlemen.”
“Oh, did you hear that? We’re gentlemen.” The man turned to his friends. “My mother will be so proud.”
“Well, my mother won’t be proud of me if I tell her I let an Indian wander out of their territory without so much as batting an eye.” The second man leveled his rifle at Jesse’s face. “I’m only going to say this one more time, and then I’m blowing your head off. Give us the Indian. We’re just going to take her anyway—no point in losing your life over something you can’t stop.”
Parker had heard enough to consider it justifiable. He stepped from behind his own tree, brought his pistol up, and fired a shot right into the gunman’s thigh. The man cried out and dropped his rifle, grabbing his leg, which was quickly becoming saturated with blood.
A Passing Glance Page 11
