Badlands Bride

by Cheryl St. John

  "Oh." Zinnia finally set her basket down. "Where are you staying?"

  "I've taken a room," Hallie said, making her living ar­rangements sound more like a boardinghouse than Mr. DeWitt's home. "It's quite nice. I get meals, too."

  A creaking wagon lumbered near. Zinnia stayed beneath the shelter, but Hallie ran to greet the arrivals. Tall and just as scrawny as the last time she'd seen him, Stuart Waring set the brake handle and helped his wife down.

  Olivia saw Hallie and ran and took her hand. "There's that dear, brave girl," she said with a smile. "I've men­tioned you every night in my prayers."

  "Why, thank you," Hallie said with surprise. "Perhaps that's how I survived the bear."

  "What!" Olivia saw Zinnia at that moment and ran for­ward. Zinnia enfolded the lanky woman as she had Hallie. "Now, what's this about a bear?" Olivia asked.

  Evelyn came next and joined in the reunion, followed by a small woman named Nellie Kell, who had two youngsters in tow. Nellie and Chumani took over the food preparation.

  Hallie asked Zinnia and Olivia all about their first weeks in the territory and took notes. Both women were mildly homesick, but both seemed to have adapted better than Eve­lyn. Olivia acted happy, at times speaking of Stuart as though they were a love match. She blushed profusely at one point and whispered, "I haven't had my time since I've been here. I think I'm going to have a baby."

  Hallie surveyed the other women's reactions. Zinnia gig­gled. Evelyn picked at a thread on her sleeve and refused to look up.

  "That's wonderful, Olivia," Hallie said.

  After she'd heard more about their new lives than she cared to, Hallie wandered away from the women to see what the men were doing. Cooper, Jack and Angus worked on turning the pile of rocks into a fireplace. Yellow Eagle car­ried water and stirred the mixture that they used as mortar to hold the rocks in place.

  Cooper stopped to talk to her for a moment, pointing to the ends of Yellow Eagle's black hair accidentally stiffened with mortar. They shared an intimate smile of familiarity and enjoyment. Hallie remembered Olivia's pronouncement about her baby and wondered if this was what it felt like to be a parent.

  Of course, the child would have to like the parent better than Yellow Eagle liked her, she reasoned, feeling silly for even having the thought.

  Cooper's gaze flicked over her and her cheeks burned.

  "Why are you turning pink?" he asked.

  She turned her face away.

  He took her chin and turned her head back. "Usually I've said something coarse to embarrass you. This time I haven't."

  The thought of sharing intimacies with Cooper left her speechless. She had a pretty good idea of what it took to have a baby, and just imagining participating in such an indelicate act with this man overwhelmed her. His fingers scorched her skin and she pulled away.

  His burning blue gaze followed. "What are you thinking, Hallie?"

  The wind cooled her skin. She ignored him and wandered to where Stuart, Vernon, Wiley and a man she assumed was Nellie's husband had started footings for the corners of the house.

  "Howdy, Miss Wainwright," Stuart called.

  She met Wiley's eyes. Cooper had said he was catching on that she wasn't married. He'd know for sure now, but he made no comment.

  "Hi, Stuart," she replied.

  The bearded man turned and nodded. "Victor Kell, ma'am."

  "Pleased to meet you." She stuck out her hand. "Hallie Wainwright."

  He removed his glove to shake her hand, then returned to his work.

  Wiley stepped closer and she waited for a question about her name. "Sure was good of all these folks to show up to work today."

  "Many hands make light work," she said with a sheepish smile.

  "Sounds like an Indian saying," he commented.

  "No, my mother used to say it. Though how she knew, I'm not certain. She's never done a day's work in her life."

  "No?"

  "Well, charity work, you know, things like that. Mostly she plays bridge and arranges flowers. I did see her hit a croquet ball once."

  Wiley laughed aloud. "You're somethin', Hallie. I've never met anyone like you before."

  She grinned. "Is that good or bad?"

  The smile faded. "All good."

  His brown eyes had grown far too serious. Hallie glanced around. "You've chosen a lovely spot."

  "I can make a good living here," he replied. "Stone Creek will grow in the next few years."

  "That's what Cooper says," she agreed.

  "It's a good place to settle down."

  She nodded. "I'd better get back and help the women."

  Cooper eyed her as she passed. She flipped him a wave.

  Back under the canvas enclosure, the wives had clustered near the fire. Chumani sat apart from them, shaping biscuits and placing them in a greased skillet.

  Hallie left the others to their conversation and sat beside her friend. "I'm getting hungry," she said, signing the words at the same time. "Everything smells good."

  Chumani signed that Yellow Eagle had already been by. to snitch food.

  They shared a smile.

  Chumani baked three pans of biscuits and they called the men to eat. Everyone had brought their own plates, cups and utensils, and once finished, Hallie hauled water from a barrel on the side of a wagon and heated it.

  Nellie and Chumani washed the dishes and Hallie dried. Nellie laid her children down on blankets and they took naps.

  Preparations began all over again as evening approached. Unexpected hoofbeats sounded, followed by shrill cries and whoops. Hallie peered out from beneath the overhang and watched the small band of Indians approach.

  "Oh, my God!" Zinnia's face had turned white as a lily and she weaved where she stood. "An Indian attack!"

  Olivia hurried to steady her and helped her sit on one of the blankets.

  The weather had turned cooler and most of the braves wore shirts and leggings. Last Horse rode in front on what Hallie now knew was a tobino, this one white with patches of black and red.

  Unconsciously, her hand slid to the side of her skirt. The weight of the derringer against her thigh assured her. The men stopped work and met the riders. Unerringly, she spot­ted Cooper's hat and broad-shouldered frame, adding to her confidence that she was not alone or helpless this time.

  Dismounting, several of the Indians peered into the backs of the wagons, obviously making the men nervous.

  "My braves are hungry," Last Horse called. "Will you share your food?"

  One of the men cursed. Hallie heard another say they were going to lose daylight. Cooper moved up, and Hallie knew he felt responsible for Last Horse's interference.

  "We'll fix your braves something," she said, stepping forward and flicking a hand at the workers. "You go back to work until the meal's ready."

  Last Horse turned and spoke in his guttural syllables and two Indians approached Hallie with headless skinned ani­mals dangling from leather thongs. Her stomach lurched, but she swallowed her disgust; instead, she met them and ac­cepted the heavy game.

  She caught Cooper's taut-jawed expression and his almost nonexistent nod of approval before he turned and led the others back to their jobs. Carrying the bloody meat toward the fire, she met Chumani's black eyes. "I hope you know what to do with these."

  Chumani nodded and took the carcasses.

  "Girls," Hallie said, spinning to the others, "we're going to need more water heated and more biscuits. I'll go for the water, and Evelyn, you heat it in those pans. Zinnia, you take the ingredients Chumani gives you and stir up more dough. Olivia, feed those sticks into the fire."

  Hallie exited the enclosure carrying the empty pails. "Last Horse!" she called.

  He turned.

  "We're going to need more firewood. Will you send a few of your men to bring us some, please?"

  He looked startled. However, he spoke to two young In­dians nearby. They argued, but he silenced them with a stern look and pointed.

  Grumb
ling, they wandered away from the camp.

  Last Horse followed her to the water barrels. Hallie dipped one pail at a time, secure with the concealed gun in her skirt. She remembered how close he'd been to her that day in the freight building, the way he'd touched her hair and sniffed at her. She wouldn't allow him to intimidate her again.

  The second bucket full, she reached to pick up the first and found his moccasined foot in front of it. Slowly she straightened and met his indomitable black stare.

  "How do your people take wives?" he asked.

  His offer of horses and blankets came to mind. "The gentleman asks the lady to marry him," she replied. "Po­litely. With a declaration of love."

  "How does he prove his worth?" he asked.

  "Well…" she said, her voice trailing off. How could she answer his questions in a way he'd understand? She had no reply. She shook her head.

  The wind caught his hair, secured only by a red-and-black band across his forehead.

  He turned his head toward the wind to free his vision and, seizing the opportunity, she stepped around him for the bucket. He trailed her back, ducking under the awning be­hind her.

  Zinnia gasped at his entrance, but Olivia patted her arm and urged her to stir her bowl of dough.

  Last Horse seated himself near Hallie and watched her. Refusing to allow him to daunt her, she went about the work, pretending he wasn't there. Chumani skewered the carcasses and propped them over the fire. Hallie steeled her­self and helped. That done, they washed and sliced turnips Nellie had brought and fried them in a skillet.

  Nellie made coffee, and eventually the biscuits were baked and the meat and vegetables tender. Chumani and Hallie scraped together pans, tins, anything they could use for extra plates, and called the men.

  The women didn't have much appetite, though between the workers and the Oglala there was just enough to go around. The Indians licked their fingers and grunted, making comments to one another. They hooted and snickered.

  Two of the braves reached for the last piece of meat at the same time, ending up in a scuffle. Exasperated, Hallie reached across with the wooden spoon she held and smacked each of them on the back of the hand. They winced and withdrew, staring at her with wide eyes. Hallie tore the meat from the roasted thigh and gave half to each of them.

  She turned and found Last Horse standing behind her. She met his arrogant black eyes without cringing. He stared back, and the air crackled between them. What had she done? Insulted them? Would he give a command and have them all scalped?

  Finally, tearing his gaze from hers, he spoke to his friends, who then ran toward their horses.

  Last Horse said something to Cooper, and Cooper replied. The Indian joined the others and they rode off.

  Tiredly, Hallie surveyed the mess left behind. At least they still had their hair.

  Zinnia drew an accordion-pleated fan from her basket and fanned herself.

  Jack started to chuckle.

  Hallie turned toward the sound.

  "I don't know what it is about you," Jack snickered. "It's a disgrace for Indian males to do manual labor, and there they was, gatherin' firewood."

  "Is that true?" Hallie asked.

  Beside Jack, Cooper sat with his lips twitching. He nod­ded.

  She stared hard at him. Did he think this whole thing was funny?

  Angus and Victor Kell sputtered, suppressing their laugh­ter.

  "Did you see their faces when she hit 'em with the spoon?" Jack asked on a full-fledged chortle.

  "They needed a lesson in manners," Olivia said defen­sively. "They ate like savages."

  Hallie waited for Cooper's reaction to that one. He sur­prised her by setting his plate down and laughing out loud.

  The others joined in, and Hallie couldn't help herself. The humor released the tension that had built since the Indians' arrival.

  "Good meal," Wiley said. "Thank you, ladies."

  The others concurred, and the men went back to finish what they could before the light waned.

  "Let us finish up," Olivia offered, stepping between Hal­lie and the dirty dishes scattered across the area.

  "Yes," Evelyn agreed. "You did more than your share."

  Hallie didn't mind the break. "Okay," she agreed, and left the tent.

  The wind had grown chilly. Hallie pulled her collar around her ears and watched the men. Occasionally she handed them tools or offered a hand. When it came time to clean up, she pitched in.

  "Where do these go?" she asked Wiley, following him with a trowel and bucket.

  "Here," he said. He ducked inside his tent and returned to take the items from her. "Thanks, Hallie. Hallie?"

  She'd started to leave, but turned back.

  "I have your hide for you."

  "My…?"

  "Your bear." He disappeared inside the tent and carried the enormous fur out.

  Hallie stared at the shaggy mound of animal hair with the huge head on top, its snarling teeth gaping at her. Stifling a shudder, she wondered what she was going to do with it. "Th-thank you."

  "It was my pleasure."

  She accepted the fur, learning its staggering weight with awe. A living creature had dwelled inside this skin for years and years.

  "I've been waiting for a chance to speak with you alone," he said, his brown eyes solemn.

  "You know I'm not really married." She glanced aside. It hadn't been nice to try to fool him. If she'd known what a respectable fellow he was, she wouldn't have resorted to the crazy story for protection. "I'm sorry, Wiley."

  "It's okay," he said. "I think I know why you did it."

  "No hard feelings, then?" she asked hopefully.

  "None."

  She flashed him a friendly smile.

  "Hallie, I…"

  "What?"

  "I'm gonna have a nice house here when we're finished. I decided on a house and the shop separate."

  "That'll be nice."

  "I want to start a family."

  She nodded, adjusting the fur in her arms and deliberately not looking at the head too near her chin. So many of the men out here had hopes for the future. Plans for businesses and farms and dreams that included wives. She understood now why they sent for women from back East. "You could…" She glanced up and, discovering his enamored gaze, realized what he was thinking. "Oh, Wiley, no…"

  "I'd like you to marry me, Hallie."

  Chapter Eleven

  I'd make a good husband," Wiley assured her. "I'll have a successful operation going in a year or two. You've heard us talk about more and more settlers moving here."

  "It's not that I think you wouldn't be a good choice," she said quickly. "It's just that I'm not staying. I'm a re­porter from The Daily, a paper back East. I came out here to get a follow-up story on the brides. Unfortunately all my money and valuables were stolen, or I'd have been back home by now."

  "Is there someone back there?"

  "Someone…?"

  "A man."

  "No!"

  "Then stay."

  "I'm not looking for a husband," she objected.

  "Why not? What will you do?"

  "I'll write stories," she said, riled now. "I'll have a per­fectly good life and I won't wither up and die because I haven't yoked myself with a man."

  "It's DeWitt, isn't it?"

  "What?"

  "You and him. He got to you first."

  "Oh, really!" She turned away, then thinking better of it, spun back, hands on hips. "You're just like every other man I ever laid eyes on. You don't think a woman has a shred of value on her own. Well, mister, if you want to change my mind about how women should behave, you'll have to get in line!"

  "Hallie!"

  She heard him, but she was already marching away at full tilt. Ignoring the curious stares of the other men, she stomped past them and placed her hideous bearskin in the back of Cooper's wagon. Entering the cooking tent, she vented her frustration, slamming supplies into the crates and carrying them out.

&nb
sp; Cooper secured the lids on the water barrels, glancing back as Hallie climbed into the back of the wagon beside Chumani. "Men!" he overheard her say to his sister-in-law. "They're all a bunch of overbearing, egotistical, rutting dogs!"

  He glanced back at Kincaid, who was waving the men off, and wondered what he'd said or done to get her in such a state. Whatever it was, he'd be darn careful not to make the same mistake. Climbing up on the seat beside Jack, he shook out the reins and led the horses toward home.

  The following days went more smoothly without the in­terruption of the Oglala. Once again, Hallie made herself indispensable, organizing meals, arranging supplies and be­friending the women. She steered clear of Wiley Kincaid, and Cooper found her avoidance obvious.

  "What did you say to her?" he asked Kincaid while they hammered shingles on the roof.

  "Who?"

  "Hallie."

  Wiley pushed his hat back on his head and confessed, "I asked her to marry me."

  "That's why she's avoiding you like a pile of—"

  "You noticed, huh?"

  Cooper nodded without answering and grabbed a handful of nails.

  "If you and her are…you know…you should have told me when I asked you about her."

  He thought of the kiss they'd shared and dismissively denied anything between them. "She doesn't think any bet­ter of me than she does of you."

  "I don't know if that's any comfort." Wiley wiped his forehead with the back of a hand.

  "She tries so hard," Cooper said thoughtfully, resting on his heels for a moment. Her whole purpose in coming out here in the first place had been to gain favor with her father and bolster her position at the newspaper. What kind of need drove a young woman to prove herself in such a risky way? She could have been killed a dozen times over by now. Killed…or worse. What impelled her?

  Pride. She had plenty of that. But enough to base her crazy scheme on? He didn't think so.

  Love. Did she love her implacable father so much she would do anything to please him? Maybe.

  Ambition. Were recognition and position the goals she strove for? Somehow they didn't suit what he knew of her personality.

  All of those were possibilities, but some inner sense told him that there was something more, some soul-stirring need that he couldn't quite recognize because of his ignorance.