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Teton Splendor

Page 17

by Peggy L Henderson


  “This time, invite us to the wedding.” He patted Joseph on the back, and turned to Lucas. “I suggest you two shake hands and clean yourselves up, and don’t upset your mother with any more fighting.” His smile transformed into a stern look, then he left the barn.

  “You’ve got it worse than I thought,” Lucas panted when their father was out of earshot. He glared at Joseph through narrow eyes. “How the hell was I supposed to know you haven’t told Sophie about your former wife. What’s the big secret, anyhow? Maybe you should stop acting like a coward and tell her that you love her. I think women like that sort of talk.”

  Joseph reached his hand out to his brother, who stood staring at him warily.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled when Lucas finally clasped his hand.

  “Tell her you love her, then maybe you can be yourself again.” Lucas shook his head in disgust.

  Joseph nodded. “Seems like it should be that easy.” He gave a short laugh.

  “You had no problem with Feather in the Wind.”

  Joseph contemplated his brother’s words. “That was different. I was younger. It wasn’t the same.”

  It hadn’t been the same. Feather in the Wind had set his young mind and body on fire, but beyond a youthful infatuation, he couldn’t remember what had attracted him to her. She’d often displayed a bad temper, getting angry quickly and holding a grudge for days. Her decision to return to her own people had been the best thing that could have happened to him. He was free to love Sophie, even if she was under the mistaken impression that he was still bound to Feather in the Wind.

  Lucas shook his head and laughed. “I ain’t never been in love, so I won’t judge you, but like hell is a woman gonna intimidate me enough to make me act like some bumbling fool. I’d just as soon square off with an angry wolverine.”

  Joseph grinned. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t conjure up an image of the type of girl who would ever capture his brother’s heart enough to make him grow roots.

  “Joseph. Lucas. Mrs. Walker says to wash up. Supper’s almost ready.” Caleb dashed into the barn, skidding to a stop in front of them. Joseph was pleased to see such happiness in the boy’s eyes. His mother was sure to spoil him rotten.

  He had a lot of explaining to do to his folks about Caleb, but his first priority was to make things right with Sophie. He’d messed up. His fears of losing her had overruled his common sense, and he’d completely mishandled the situation.

  All you had to do was tell her you love her and that you want her to stay. Instead, he’d managed to cause her pain by concealing his feelings. He’d been blind to the hurt look in her eyes the previous evening and again today, but things were suddenly crystal clear.

  “Well, I’d best get it over with,” Lucas grumbled. “Mama’s gonna want to know about that bullet hole in my shoulder. You comin’, Joseph, or should I tell her myself that there’s a killer after you?”

  Joseph reached into the pouch tied to the back of his saddle, and pulled out a parcel wrapped in paper. Rummaging for the smaller parcel that smelled like lavender, he held it to his nose. Sophie didn’t get the chance to wash with the fragrant soap the last time he offered it to her. Luckily, he’d been able to return to the pool where they’d been shot at and retrieve it before they continued their journey. He handed both parcels to Caleb.

  “Can you bring these to Miss Sophie?” he asked. “And tell everyone I’ll be along soon.”

  Caleb nodded, and dashed like a little dust devil out of the barn. Lucas raised his brows.

  “Great kid. Your family’s almost complete. All that’s missin’ is a wife.”

  “I aim to fix that soon,” Joseph said with a grin on his face.

  After Lucas left the barn, Joseph unbuckled his belt and pulled his dirty shirt off over his head. He found the lye soap he washed with and headed out the back of the barn toward the creek. Splashing cool water on his face and chest, he rinsed the trail dust from his body. He knelt in the grass and gazed up at the mountains. The sun slowly sank behind the tallest peak, leaving a golden glow across the valley.

  With his hands on his knees, Joseph closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He inhaled deeply of the sweet scent of buffalo grass. He was back home after being gone for nearly six months. All that was missing now was the woman he loved in his arms. A content feeling swept over him. It was easy to imagine Sophie’s soft woman’s touch, caressing him like the gentle breeze that cooled his fevered skin.

  Tomorrow, he would take her to the Bannock village to meet her grandfather. After that, he planned to ask her to be his wife. He would have to tell his father and mother about the shooter over supper, and that they needed to be vigilant. If it were up to him, he would ride out first thing at daybreak and try to pick up the man’s trail. Turning the tables on him, becoming the hunter rather than the hunted, was the only way to ensure everyone’s safety. He certainly wouldn’t wait on him to make the next move.

  The sun disappeared further behind the mountains. He should really join everyone for supper, but for the moment, the solitude gave him time to think clearly. The grass behind him rustled softly. The corners of Joseph’s lips curved in a slight smile. He could feel her presence, long before the slight wind carried the scent of lavender to his nose.

  “Joseph?” Sophie’s hesitant voice finally prompted him to turn his head. She stood several yards behind him, her hands clasped together in front of her. Joseph sprang to his feet. The skirts of the blue dress she wore fluttered in the breeze around her legs. Her unbound hair spilled down the front of her shoulders.

  “Lucas said you wanted to see me.”

  A flicker of desire flashed in her eyes as she stood there. With a sassy lift of her chin, her gaze darted from his face to his torso.

  “He did, huh?”

  Lucas evidently needed another lesson in keeping his mouth shut, but in this case, his brother may have done him a favor.

  “You, ah, look nice,” he said, swallowing his apprehension. That she had changed into the dress he had Caleb deliver to her seemed encouraging. Perhaps she was at least open to hear him out.

  “You’re very good at keeping secrets, Joseph,” she said, her tone clipped. Her eyes lingered on his bare chest. “I assume this dress is something you picked up in St. Louis?”

  “You needed a new dress. I didn’t know you’d be wearing Kara’s clothes, so I saved it. Seemed appropriate to give it to you now.”

  Tentatively, he stepped closer. His eyes never left her. She stared up at him, hurt and confusion evident in her gaze even though she tried to mask it with her haughty demeanor.

  Sophie lifted her narrowed eyes to his. “I’ve enjoyed wearing britches. It’ll be a bit more difficult getting used to dresses again once I return to Boston.”

  Joseph stood in front of her in the next instant. He reached for her hands and brought them up to his chest, pressing her palms to his heart. Sophie drew in a deep breath and stiffened. Her soft hands against his bare skin sent shockwaves racing through him. His stomach tightened. She tried to pull her hands away, but he held tight.

  “What do you want from me, Joseph?” she asked, the crack in her voice belying her icy tone. “I refuse to be your or anyone else’s mistress.”

  “What gave you the idea that I want a mistress?” Joseph’s eyes drew together. “I’m not bound to the woman who used to be my wife, Sophie. According to Indian tradition, when she removed my belongings from our lodge, she severed all ties to me.”

  “Do you still love her?” she whispered. Moisture shimmered in her wide eyes.

  Joseph swiped at a tear that rolled down her cheek with his thumb. His fingers caressed her soft skin.

  “It’s been five years. I don’t love her,” he said firmly. He moved closer. The only barrier between them was her hands that he still held firmly to his chest. “She’s not important. You are.”

  Her eyes widened even more. He continued to stroke her cheek, and offered a tentative smile. “Sophie, I’ve been a co
ward. I haven’t told you how I feel about you because I’ve been afraid that you’ll choose to go back to Boston.” He paused, struggling for the right words. “Last night, when you told me you wanted to return home, I thought I’d already lost you.”

  She blinked several times, and her body trembled slightly. “I don’t know what to do, or where I belong, Joseph,” she whispered, her words barely audible.

  Joseph expelled the breath he was holding. He wrapped his arms around her and molded her soft body to his. He inhaled deeply of her sweet woman’s scent.

  “I think you belong right here,” he said with firm conviction and stared into her eyes. “Sophie, there’s only one woman who owns my heart. I love you.”

  His pulse throbbed in his temples as if his life might end at any moment. Facing a war party of hostile Indians was less intimidating than waiting for a response to his declaration.

  Sophie squirmed in his embrace, and he reluctantly eased his hold on her. Dread washed over him. Was she about to reject him? He couldn’t force her to stay if she chose to run. He held his breath. Her hands pulled free from between them, and she clasped his face between her palms. She gazed intently into his eyes.

  “I love you, too, Joseph.”

  She leaned into him, and pressed her lips to his. A burst of emotion so strong, he thought he might explode, rocked him. The heaviness in his chest dissolved, replaced by a wave of relief and elation. Joseph tightened his grip around her waist, and lifted her off the ground. With a groan, he claimed her mouth with the urgency of a starved man, pulling her up against him. His hand reached up to cradle her head, holding her to him as he explored her soft lips. He couldn’t get her close enough. Sophie wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed up against him. A soft moan escaped her throat.

  Joseph pulled back abruptly. If he didn’t stop now, he’d go insane with want. Panting for air, he set her on her feet, and pressed his lips to her forehead.

  “You’re not a coward, Joseph,” she said softly, and raised her head. Her eyes sparkled with love. Happiness like nothing before flooded him, and a wide grin spread across his face.

  “When it comes to you, I am. I love you, Sophie,” he whispered huskily. A shiver passed through her as she clung to his neck, and he wrapped his arms more firmly around her. She fit so perfectly against him. “I love you, and no other.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sophia swallowed nervously, and glanced down at the blue material of her dress. She’d be self-conscious no matter what she wore to her first meeting with her grandfather. For nearly an hour already, she’d struggled with what to wear to meet her only living blood relative. First, she’d slipped on the simple dress Joseph had given her. After endlessly pacing the floor in Joseph’s bedroom, she’d changed into her comfortable buckskins, then back into the dress.

  “Sophie, you about ready?” Joseph called to her from the main room.

  “Just a moment.” In a hasty decision, she slipped out of the dress and undergarments, and back into her familiar buckskin britches and cotton shirt. Hesitating, she opened the door. Joseph stood waiting for her in the main room.

  “I . . . I don’t know what to wear,” she stammered.

  She glanced around the room before meeting Joseph’s amused stare. Warm and inviting, the cabin was a simple structure with one main room that served as the kitchen, dining area, and family room. The large stone hearth took up most of one wall. The entire cabin was probably no larger than the kitchens in her father’s country estate outside of Boston.

  I want a home like this. Something intimate and small, something I can share with Joseph.

  Would he ask her to marry him? Their courtship, if it could even be called that, was anything but conventional. He had never called on her to take her for a buggy ride in the country, or sat in her father’s parlor, sipping tea on a Sunday afternoon. No, instead he had defended her honor, saved her life on several occasions at great risk to his own, and swept her off her feet with his passionate kisses.

  Was it too soon to think about marriage? It had been less than a day since he said he loved her. Sophia inhaled deeply. Ever since his declaration the previous evening, she’d been walking on air. They’d stood by the creek until the sun went down. Supper was all but forgotten while Joseph held her in his arms. An indescribable feeling of warmth and belonging had flowed through her. For the first time, she truly felt as if she had come home, that she was exactly where she belonged. The faint glow of light shining through the windows of his parents’ cabin finally reminded her that she was behaving rudely toward her hosts.

  “Shouldn’t we join your family?” she’d finally whispered, while her arms remained wrapped around Joseph’s middle. The feel of his taut skin and the smooth hard muscles beneath her fingers sent unexplainable waves of heat through her.

  “My folks will understand,” he chuckled, then slowly eased his hold around her waist. “I don’t ever want to let you go.” He kissed her again, and the combination of his words and touch had left her weaker than the time she’d been ill with influenza as a child.

  Sophia’s face flushed at the memory of the previous night, and, trying to conceal her wandering thoughts, glanced downward at her britches. “What should I wear to meet my grandfather, Joseph? Is this acceptable attire?” Her eyes darted back to him.

  Joseph rubbed his thumb and forefinger against his chin, his eyes boldly raking over her. Heat crept up her neck at his appreciative perusal. He stepped in front of her, and reached for her hand. His thumb caressed her palm and along the sensitive area of her wrist, sending renewed shudders of some unknown need through her.

  “What do you want to wear, Sophie?” he asked in a sultry tone. His easy smile took her breath away.

  “I don’t want to disappoint him,” she whispered.

  Joseph brought her hand up to his lips, and languidly kissed each knuckle, his eyes never leaving hers.

  “Bannock women don’t wear britches,” he said slowly. “They also don’t wear cotton dresses.”

  Sophia’s eyes widened. Her heart sped up in panic. “Then what am I supposed to do? How will I please Two Bears if I don’t have the proper clothes to wear?”

  Joseph pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her. His chest rumbled in a low chuckle.

  “Sophie, what do you want to wear?” He paused, a warm glow in his eyes. “I think it’s time you stopped worrying so much about what other people think of you. Do what’s right for you, and start pleasing yourself for a change.”

  “But I want to make the right impression,” she stammered.

  In Boston, she’d had a closet full of gowns, and deciding what to wear to a social event or a dinner party for her father’s business associates had never been as difficult as choosing between the only two outfits available for her meeting with the Indian chief.

  Joseph’s arm tightened around her waist. A fiery sensation rippled through her, starting at her neck and descending in waves down through her torso and into her legs. His lips touched hers in a gentle kiss. Sophia sighed softly. Her anxiety melted away in his arms.

  “Sophie, Two Bears will be very pleased to see you. He specifically sent me to bring you here, remember? You have nothing to worry about.”

  The door to the cabin opened with a creak, and Sophia pulled away from Joseph. Heat flushed her face, and she scrambled away from him. Caleb dashed into the room, his whole body radiating with happiness.

  “Mrs. Walker’s gonna take me with her to find fresh berries today, Joseph. We’re gonna make a pie.”

  “Is that so.” He smiled. “Just be sure not to eat all the berries while you’re collecting them. I seem to remember doing that when she used to take me along. Not only will you have a stomach ache later, but no one will be happy when there’s no berries left for the pie.”

  Caleb nodded vigorously, still smiling with excitement. Evelyn Walker appeared from outside, and glanced from her son to Sophia.

  “I recall you and your brother
eating the berries as a competition to see who had a stronger constitution. Usually you both ended up sick, but you never learned your lesson. Always trying to outbest each other.” She smiled widely, and turned toward Sophia.

  “Everything was a competition between those two, but if anyone else ever said a bad word against one of them, the other was right there to back him up and defend him. Brothers.” She shook her head, and patted Joseph on the back.

  Sophia nodded. She’d seen the respect and love the brothers had for each other first hand. Lucas hadn’t hesitated to come to Joseph’s aid when they’d been shot at, even with a bullet in his shoulder.

  “Are you ready to go meet your grandfather?” Evelyn asked as she set a basket on the table in the center of the room. “Two Bears is an honorable man. He’s highly respected among his people. Just remember, when he asks something of you, it’s advisable to do it. Just ask Joseph.” She chuckled.

  Sophia raised her chin and inhaled deeply. She glanced from Joseph to his mother. “Yes, I believe I am ready to meet him,” she said with a nod of her head. “I’ll be ready to go in just a few moments.”

  She turned and headed for the bedroom. Joseph’s words echoed in her mind.

  Start pleasing yourself for a change.

  He was absolutely right. All her life, she’d tried to please the people around her. What good had that done her? None at all. It didn’t matter that she wore the finest clothes, or had the best social manners. People judged her by her skin color, something she had no control over. Since coming further into the wilderness, no one had commented on the way she looked. Well, Joseph had, but only in reference to her Boston clothing not being practical in the wilderness.

  Who do you want to be, Sophia?

  She stood in the small bedroom, glancing at the simple bed against the far wall. Sophia smoothed a wrinkle in the homemade quilt that covered the bed, and picked up her dress that she’d left lying on top. She ran her fingers along the carved dresser and chair that were the only other furnishings in this room.

 

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