by Jodi Thomas
Millie missed the James she’d known. Now everyone called him Captain or Mr. Kirkland. Mrs. Harris whispered once that there was no doubt he would be a very important man one day. The men he hired to work for him were all cut from the same cloth as James. Most weren’t far into their thirties, but they’d been hardened by war and seasoned from cattle drives. All wore chaps and spurs and guns strapped to their legs.
Millie felt as if he’d stepped up as a leader in a world she couldn’t enter. Every night men circled the table poring over maps and numbers. Every morning James was gone before dawn.
Mrs. Harris continued to teach her to cook and sew, and Millie worked with Andrew every day. Her brother wasn’t as hungry to learn as she had been. He gave in to bathing, but he still insisted on wearing his Apache clothes. He spent his mornings beside her, but disappeared into the wooded area every chance he got. In the afternoons he wandered the garden, picking tree branches to fashion into bows.
Late one afternoon, as she watched Andy in the yard, James appeared at her side. “What’s the kid doing?” he asked.
Millie folded her arms, frustrated at her brother. “He’s building an arsenal.”
“I figured that.” James put his arm lightly around her waist. “He sees himself as a warrior. He’s preparing for battle.”
“Who is he going to fight, James?” She fought tears, afraid of the truth.
“Me, I’m thinking.”
For a moment she leaned into James. For years she hadn’t cared about anyone and now the two men she loved seemed destined to be on different sides. James didn’t trust Andy and her brother had told her once in Apache that James had cold eyes, the eyes of a killer. She knew he’d been in the war. She’d heard Ranger Price talk of it. Millie didn’t know that side of James Kirkland. She only knew the one who was gentle, the one who touched her heart.
When James pulled her closer, his voice stayed calm in case Mrs. Harris was within hearing distance. “What do you and Andy talk about, Millie? Does he ever mention his home or your parents?”
“He wants to talk to me only in Apache, telling me of the great adventures he’s had. After a few days, I realized my years as a captive were a lower kind of hell, but for Andrew, those years were heaven. He never went hungry. He learned to hunt and fight, but was never beaten. He said he was adopted as the son of the chief and has three brothers. Over and over he tells me he would go back if he could, only he will not leave me. I’m his blood. He said when we were first separated, he cried every night for me until the chief told him it was time for him to be a man.”
“He’s twelve, Millie. Even if he’d argue the point, he’s still more boy than man. Give him time. He’ll come around.”
She nodded, but didn’t believe. Sometimes she wondered if the little boy in Andy remembered her and her mother as one. When she looked in the mirror now, at her hair pulled back with combs, she thought she looked exactly like her mother.
“You’ll always be kind to him, James.”
“I will.”
She pulled away. “And if we leave your ranch one day, you will let us go.”
He closed his eyes and nodded before whispering, “I will.” Slowly he smiled and added, “The woman I traded for a broken watch is gone. You’ve a mind of your own, Millie, and I’ll respect that no matter how much I want you near.”
“I’m here now,” she admitted, “but I have to belong to me before I can belong to anyone else ever again.”
For a long while he just held her, both feeling the world changing.
Finally he shifted and switched into a casual stance. “Did I mention that your brother slipped into my room a few nights ago? He stole my hunting knife.”
“I know. I saw him with it. He’s also taken a few of Mrs. Harris’s kitchen knives. I tried to make him give them back, but he refused.”
“Let him keep my knife.” James shrugged. “After all, if he planned to murder me in my sleep, he’s already had the opportunity. Once we’re on the road, he might need them to hunt.”
“Is there a chance of trouble on the road?”
James nodded. “Apache might attack. Or outlaws robbing travelers. I think I could count on Andy’s help with outlaws, but if it’s Apache, he’s liable to fight for the other side.”
She laughed. “Maybe you should work on building a friendship?”
“Not much chance of that. He still won’t speak to me.”
James took her hand and they walked in to dinner. As they climbed the steps, his fingers moved over her back; a tender caress no one saw but that warmed her insides.
Andy retuned to the house after dark and ate alone, then curled into his blanket by the fire. In her world, his behavior had become the norm. Tonight, as she sat helping Mrs. Harris quilt, Millie didn’t worry about her brother. Her thoughts were on James as he talked with his men a room away. She could still feel his touch.
The next evening Millie waited for James on the porch, hoping for another moment alone with him.
Only, the sun set and he did not come. The thought crossed her mind that maybe he’d left without her. Rain rumbled in but she couldn’t seem to budge from her chair on the porch. She needed to see him.
Finally, slicing through the rain, he stepped onto the porch. For a moment she saw the worry and exhaustion in his face before he spotted her and smiled.
“Millie,” he whispered, and she was in his arms. “Millie,” he said again as he held her so tight she couldn’t breathe.
Then, like a man starved, he kissed her. His hands moved over her with need. When he broke the kiss, he laughed low against her ear. “You’re filling out, my little dove. I’ve missed holding you something fierce. I know we agreed to sleep apart, but that doesn’t stop the need I have for you.”
She smiled, loving knowing he still felt about her as she did about him even if he wouldn’t say the words she longed to hear. She told herself it was enough that he thought of her and she could be near him, if just for a few minutes every evening.
Mrs. Harris opened the door and they moved apart. She was a kind woman but she didn’t approve of a man who didn’t offer marriage touching a girl. If she’d known that Millie had slept with him that first night he’d returned with Andy, Mrs. Harris would have been outraged.
Millie didn’t really think of it as right or wrong. It just was. Part of her felt as though she belonged to James. Part of her wanted always to be with him. She didn’t want to be treated like a third or fourth wife. Even though no other women stood between them, Millie still felt as if she was down the line in importance. She’d rather be alone in her bed than matter little to a man.
“I hired a few more men today.” James broke into her thoughts as he held the door for her to step into the house.
She wished he would say he missed her, but talk of the ranch always came first. As they ate, she listened while Mrs. Harris asked questions. James was in his world of planning.
He was still talking of supplies when they moved into the parlor with their coffee. A box of Andy’s clothes sat between them. Or what was left of them. He’d used James’s knife to cut every pair of trousers and all the shirts into long strips.
James picked up what had once been a jacket. He hadn’t said a word to Millie about the clothes or the cost. “Your brother will kill me one day. I see the hate in his eyes.”
“He will not.” She said the words strongly as if she could make them true but she knew her gaze mirrored the worry in James’s eyes.
“He’s not ready to live among people. If we take him to the ranch with us he’s just as likely to go wild as to settle down.”
Looking up at him, she picked her words carefully. “Are you sure you want me to go with you? Maybe everyone would be happier if I stayed here. I’ll not leave Andy.”
“I’d like you to come along, Millie
, and your brother would be safer on the ranch.”
She nodded, knowing he was right.
James hurried on as if worried that she’d ask questions he wasn’t ready to answer. “Once we get to the ranch, I won’t have time to watch him. I’m having lumber delivered for the house. The men will stay to help me get the house framed out. If Andy runs, I can’t chase after him, Millie. I lost enough days this spring going to fetch him. We have to work hard to get ready for winter. I’ll have cattle to brand and fences to build, not to mention the barn and a house.” He stopped and looked at her. “For as long as you stay, the house will be yours. I’ll not step foot in it unless I’m invited. If you’ll come back with me, you come on your own terms. The way you want it to be. As far as I’m concerned your brother does the same.”
She wanted him to want her with him, not just to invite her because of her brother. “We will be trouble for you. Are you sure you want us to come?”
“Yes.” He leaned forward, almost close enough to touch her. “We got along in the winter camp, didn’t we? It’ll be much better with a house and supplies. If you like, I’ll get you one of those new sewing machines. Both you and Andy will have a place to call home for as long as you like.”
Millie spoke her mind before she lost her courage. “I’ll not sleep with you again, James. Not until the time is right.” How could she tell him it was more than just marriage she wanted? She wanted to be important to him. No. More than that. She wanted to be vital in his life.
“I dreamed you were in my bed the other night.” He smiled.
Millie shook her head. “The dream will not follow us to your ranch. Mrs. Harris said you do not own me even if you traded for me.”
James watched her so closely she was afraid to move. “Mrs. Harris is right. I do not own you. You can leave me if you want to, Millie.”
She knew he was setting the rules. Giving her the choice to go with him. Only, he didn’t want to tie her to him in marriage. If she went without being his wife she would be nothing again. But if she did not go, her heart would break.
“I will go, James,” she said simply. “You are right about Andy. He is not ready to stay among people yet. But I may not stay with you for long.” He had to know. He had to understand that she was free.
For a blink she saw anger and hurt in his gaze, then it was gone. For the first time she wondered if this man who had always been kind might not let her go so easily.
A tiny idea had settled into the corners of her mind. She’d seen the money James collected for hides and furs. If she and Andy were on their own, they could hunt and survive. Ranger Drew had told her that her father’s small farm was east of Dallas, still waiting for her. Maybe she and Andy could live there? Once they got settled she’d buy chickens and a milk cow and raise pigs. Mrs. Harris had taught her how to make butter and bake. She remembered plums and cherries growing wild on their farm. They wouldn’t need much.
Andy wouldn’t fit in now, but he would one day. He was still a boy. He needed to learn a few things first about ranching and how to use a rifle. James could teach him that. Once her brother knew more, they would make their choice to go or stay. Until then, she would go and help James set up his dream. She’d learn and grow, but she would not be his nothing woman no matter how much she longed to be near him.
* * *
TWO WEEKS LATER they moved out of Fort Worth like a small wagon train with a hundred head of cattle, thirty horses, two wagons of supplies, pigs, chickens, four wagons of building materials and another wagon carrying all they’d need to set up a windmill on the land. Millie drove one of the small covered wagons with all the household items. Two hired men had brought their own wagons covered in wood as if they were houses on wheels. Their wives, dressed with colorful scarves around their heads and waists, drove the wagons. James had told her the men were farriers with blacksmithing skills. As Gypsies, the men had a hard time getting work in Fort Worth, but with their knowledge of horses they’d be invaluable on the ranch. James had let Andy pick out his own horse. She thought maybe James wouldn’t care if the boy ran away, but she knew Andy wouldn’t run without her by his side. She felt his commitment to her. If only James could feel the same.
* * *
WHEN THEY STOPPED for the night, Millie would work with Andy on the words he’d lost over the six years he’d been with the Apache. She soon noticed the Gypsy women moved closer to them and listened in. Slowly, she included them and felt as though she was teaching a class in a language she was still learning herself.
She slept in the household supply wagon each night with all her things around her: a trunk of clothes and dishes Mrs. Harris had insisted she take. A new sewing machine. Quilts and blankets. Four chairs for a table not yet built. If all this were truly hers she would be a rich woman indeed, but only the clothes and one quilt were hers. Everything else belonged to James.
Andrew slept beneath her wagon, his horse staked out a few feet away. He seemed happier now they were in the open air. The cowhands James had hired mostly avoided him, but one boy not more than two years older than Andy showed him how to use a rope. By watching him, her brother learned how to work the cattle.
Along the trail they sometimes passed small settlements. James or one of the men always went in for supplies. James had hired an older man and his wife to cook on the trail, so Millie didn’t have to cook when they camped each night, which was fine with her. The jerking and bucking of the wagon left her exhausted and sick at her stomach most nights.
The older couple talked to her now and then, but, as with everyone, they didn’t quite know what Millie was there for. She wasn’t James’s wife, or even his woman. James seemed to pay no more attention to her than he did to anyone else. So she held her thoughts and her sickness to herself.
Andy was the only one who noticed. One evening he disappeared for a while and brought back a root that he told her to chew on. She did and her stomach calmed.
“You are sick?” he whispered in English.
He might never speak to anyone but her, but he listened to everyone. She answered him in English. “I’m not sick. I just don’t like riding in the wagon.”
“You ready to leave?” he asked in Apache. “We could travel faster alone and not scar the earth like these men do.”
She shook her head. “No. We’ve much to learn. If we decide to go back to our father’s land, we must be ready. There may be no one to help us then.”
“I know enough, but I will not leave until you are ready,” he said in English. “When you leave, I will go with you. You do not need to be afraid.”
Looking at him, she noticed he was now a half inch taller than she was. He wouldn’t be a boy much longer. How could she explain that it would break her heart to leave James, but that she couldn’t stay with him if she didn’t matter to him?
* * *
THE MORNING DAWNED cold and rainy. Millie felt no better, but she climbed onto the wagon bench and watched the land go slowly by. They’d been on the road three weeks now. James always spoke to her at supper, and now and then he’d ride alongside her to see how she was. When the traveling was easy, she drove the wagon, but on rainy days or on uneven ground, one of his men would tie his horse to the back of the wagon and drive the team.
Millie always lied when James asked how she was doing. All those years of traveling with the tribes, she had learned that sick people might be left behind. Especially if they were no one to the others in the tribe.
This morning he rode close and smiled. “We’re almost there, Millie. Another week at the most if this rain doesn’t slow us down.”
She nodded and tried her best to look excited.
“How’re you doing?” he asked and leaned closer.
She didn’t answer. She was cold and sick at her stomach and lonely and afraid. If she started telling him, she might never stop.
&n
bsp; Tying his reins around the saddle horn, he lifted his arms to her. “Come on, Little Dove, ride with me a while.”
She slipped from the bench into his arms. He opened his coat and wrapped it around her and she felt warm for the first time in days. As he walked his horse at the pace of the wagons, she cried softly against his chest. Her warm tears mixed with the rain.
She wanted to share his joy. James seemed happy, excited. For the first time in his life, he’d have a home, a real home. But all she could feel was change turning her world upside down again.
“Don’t cry, Millie,” he whispered. “Everything is going to be all right. We’ll have the house built by winter.”
When she didn’t answer, he asked, “You want me to sing you a song?”
She sniffed. “You can’t sing.”
“The cows don’t seem to mind.” He kissed her forehead. “You’ve been listening to me sing the cattle to sleep for a month and now you tell me I can’t sing.”
Directing his horse away from the others, he whispered, “I love the feel of you next to me. I’ve missed you.” All the wagons and cattle disappeared in the fog, but she could still hear the harnesses clanging and the rumbling sound of a hundred cattle slowly thumping the ground.
She liked the way the rain closed in around them, almost making her believe they were alone once again.
This was the first time he’d made an effort to hold her on the journey. There was no privacy on the trail. He must have missed her, too, for he whispered, “I’ve thought of coming to your canvas door at night, but that brother of yours is always right outside. I swear, one night he smiled as I came near, as if he was itching to slice off one of my ears if I came too close.”
Giggling, Millie didn’t argue.
“I thought about it, anyway. After all, I got another ear and I was missing holding you something terrible.”
She shook her head. “If you only had one ear, your hat would fall off.”
