“Yes, Uncle. Miss Cochran says I’m way ahead of everyone else my age.”
They had all settled in the parlor. Priscilla couldn’t connect this very Indian-looking man with the Texas Rangers. But then if he were wearing the Ranger uniform instead of the deerskin outfit, he would probably look more like a lawman.
He was a good-looking man, with bright blue eyes that took everything in and kept studying her and Mitch with a look that was making her very nervous.
“I knew you were a smart boy, Ian. Just like your daddy here.”
Priscilla stood. “Can I get you something to drink? I have apple cider.”
Two Moons glanced at Mitch and grimaced. “Apple cider?”
“I brought some whiskey with me. It’s in my jacket pocket.” He moved to get up.
“I knew there was a reason I favored you, boy.” He looked at Priscilla. “Ma’am, if you object to whiskey in your house, I will be happy to forego it and drink your apple cider.”
“No, not at all. My papa likes his whiskey and my mama has been known to have a sherry now and then. Go right ahead.” She turned and headed to the kitchen. “I’ll get you a glass.”
“Make that two,” Mitch called as she left the room.
“She’s one fine-looking woman, Mitch.” His uncle settled back in the chair, his ankle resting on his bent knee. “Why is she not your woman?”
“You know I’m not looking for another wife. Haven’t been since Polly. I’m happy with just me and Ian.”
“No, you’re not. But we won’t continue this now.” He smiled as Priscilla returned carrying two glasses. Mitch picked up the small bottle of whiskey from his coat pocket and poured two drinks. “Do you want some, Priscilla?”
“Heavens, no. Even though I’m this far away, Papa would somehow find out and blister my ears.” She shifted on her seat so Mitch could sit alongside her.
“Tell me about your family.” Two Moons sipped from his glass and studied her over the edge, once more making her a bit jittery. Added to that was her closeness to Mitch. His nearness had her much too aware of his scent and warmth, causing little butterflies to dance in her stomach. Perhaps she should have had a sip of the whiskey after all.
“I was born and raised in Guthrie, Oklahoma. My mama made the Land Run back in ’89 with four teenagers in tow. They’re my cousins. She met Papa there and they fell in love and got married. I have four brothers, and all my cousins and their spouses and children live within blocks of us and each other.”
“Ah,” Two Moons said. “And you wanted to get away from all that closeness.”
She raised her chin. “Yes.”
He lifted his glass in a toast. “Good for you. I think you’re a remarkable young woman who comes from a strong family.”
“Her father is a United States senator.” Mitch placed his empty glass on the table.
“No kidding?” Two Moons snapped his fingers. “Cochran. Yes, that’s right, Jesse Cochran out of Oklahoma. Good man.”
“The best.” She spoke softly, a hitch in her voice. Mitch covered her hand with his and gave it a little squeeze. Something Two Moons noticed by raised eyebrows.
The Indian turned his attention to Ian. “Gardez-vous avec vous francaise?”
“Oui, mon oncle, je pratique tous les jours.”
Priscilla’s jaw dropped and she stared at Ian. “You speak French?”
Mitch leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “Um, Priscilla, we all speak French.”
Her head swung back toward him. “You, too?”
“Oui.”
“When I spoke in French, you understood?”
“Chaque mot que vous a dit.” He grinned at her, obviously enjoying her discomfort.
“I’ve been mumbling insults to you in French for days. And all that time you knew exactly what I was saying.” She dropped her head in her hands. “Mon Dieu!”
“Most of our family speaks English, French, and Crow,” Mitch said.
“Crow, too?” She choked on the words. Although Mitch had proven to be much more intelligent and sophisticated than she’d assumed, every day as she learned more about him she became more impressed.
“My mother was Crow, my father French-Canadian. When fur trapping became harder, they left Canada and moved to Colorado where he opened the gun shop.”
Priscilla slid off the sofa. Mitch immediately felt the loss of her presence next to him. “I think I can announce that dinner is almost ready. Ian, why don’t you come help me in the kitchen?”
“Sure.”
Once the two were in the kitchen, chatting away and rattling dishes as they set the table, Two Moons poured a small amount of whiskey into both of their glasses. “If you let that one get away, you’re nowhere near as smart as I’ve always given you credit for. She’s pretty, smart, comes from a fine family, and I can tell by looking at him that Ian adores her.”
Mitch leaned back and rested his arm on the back of the sofa. “That’s the problem, Uncle. She comes from a big shot family. She’s so far above me I can barely see her shoes.”
Two Moons shook his head. “Don’t believe that for one minute. She might come from a great family, but I remember reading about Senator Cochran. Do you know he was raised in a brothel?”
Mitch sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “What?”
“Yes, sir. His mother was a prostitute. He dropped out of school and some librarian took him under her wing, got him a couple of scholarships, and he went to college and law school. So don’t think for one minute that woman out there is any kind of snob. If Jesse Cochran is the type of man I believe him to be, he would never raise a daughter like that.” He swallowed the last of his drink. “Just keep that in mind.”
“Dinner is ready,” Priscilla called them from the kitchen.
Two Moons had given him something to think about, but he still didn’t believe she would last the winter. Snob or no snob, she wasn’t meant to live in a backwoods town.
Priscilla was amazed at what she’d learned about Mitch and his family. She assumed he had some Indian in him but didn’t know he was half Crow. She also had no idea he could speak French. It had been a dirty trick for him to keep that from her. But then, her assumptions had been shattered more than a few times since she’d arrived. Ian was, by far, the brightest student in her class. Mitch was a smart man, dedicated to the town and his son.
But he still should have told her he knew French.
At Priscilla’s suggestion, once they were all seated, they joined hands and thanked the Lord for the food, their health, and the company at the table. Soon platters and bowls were passed around until everyone’s plate was overflowing.
“Two Moons. Is that the name you go by in your Ranger duties?” Priscilla asked.
“No. I thought that might a bit hard for the Rangers to swallow. I go by T. M. and borrowed Mitch’s last name, so to the Rangers I’m T. M. Beaumont.”
“And where does Two Moons come from?”
“I was born in a month that had two moons. I’m afraid my parents weren’t very inventive.”
“Every summer Uncle comes to Dogtown and takes me to the reservation where his family lives,” Ian said between swallows. “I stay there for a few weeks. That’s how I learned Crow.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea.” She turned to Two Moons. “I would love to meet your family.”
“You would?” Mitch said, his eyebrows raised.
Two Moons grinned and winked at him, something passing between the two men that she didn’t understand. “Yes. I think visiting a reservation and living there for a while is a wonderful learning experience.” She looked at Ian. “I suggest when you go this summer you keep a journal and share it with the class when school starts up again in the fall.”
“See, Pa. I told you Miss Cochran wasn’t going anywhere.”
Awkward silence fell at the table, both Mitch and Priscilla very interested in their food.
“Sounds to me like she’
s heading off to the reservation come summer. What do you say Mitch?”
He snorted and continued to eat, despite the hardy laugh coming from Two Moons.
Dinner was over and they were all stuffed. Amazingly enough, the two men and Ian helped her clean up from the meal. Her papa had always helped Mama, but she didn’t think it was a practice other men took up. She was grateful for the help.
Two Moons reached for his blanket, hat, and pole. “I’m off to your house, Mitch. Gonna need a place to bed down for a day or two.”
“That’s good. We’re trying to hunt down a mountain lion that’s killed quite a few animals around here, and the farmers and ranchers are upset. We already had one party out, but we never got him. If you’re here for a couple of days, you can join us. We could us the help.”
Ian stared at Priscilla with a look that begged for her to tell Mitch she could shoot very well herself. She gave her head a quick shake. She wasn’t quite ready to reveal her secret just yet. It had been bad enough that Mitch had caught her running around in her britches.
Two Moons held his hand out to Ian. “Come with me, boy. I want you to practice your Crow on the walk home. Your pa can come along in a little bit.”
Before Priscilla could protest there was no reason for Mitch to hang behind, the Indian and Ian were out the door. All of a sudden she felt very nervous and didn’t want to be behind closed doors with Mitch. “I feel the need to take a walk myself. Help to digest my food.”
Mitch looked relieved. “Good idea. Go get your coat, and make sure you wear a hat and gloves. It’s cold out there.”
Pushing back damp curls from her face, she said, “Actually after the heat of cooking all day, the cold air will feel good.”
As they strolled away from the house, Mitch took her hand and tucked her arm into his. The night was beautiful, the air cold, the stars like diamonds in the sky. Soft light glowed along the street from the gas lights. Shrouded in shadows, the town looked cozy, peaceful. A beautiful place to be.
She wasn’t kidding herself about missing her family. Thanksgiving was always a huge, boisterous affair, like every other celebration with the Henderson and Cochran families. An ache in her chest started and before she could stop it, a tear gathered in her eye and slid down her cheek. Another one followed and a few more after that. Unfortunately they passed under a streetlight just as Mitch looked at her. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
It might have been the beautiful night, or the sudden longing for her family, or the endearment he used, but before she knew it, she was wrapped in his arms and sobbing on his chest. “I miss my family.”
Instead of another I-told-you-so tirade, he ran his palm up and down her back. “I know. It would impossible for you not to miss them.” He reached into his pocket and produced a handkerchief. “It’s clean,” he said.
“Thank you.” She wiped her face and took a deep breath. “I like it here. I really do. And I plan to stay.” She stuck her chin out. “But I do miss them on days like this.”
Mitch placed his arm around her shoulders and hugged her to him. “Days like this I miss my family, too.”
“Your wife?”
“Sadly, not as much as I should. We were married less than a year. Most of that time she was sick with carrying Ian.” He looked up at the stars. “What I miss is my parents and the life we had. They always made a big fuss on Thanksgiving Day, also. Ihkáa always made many Crow dishes. Père made sure his favorite French foods were on the table, too. And, of course, I had to have turkey. It was a combination of Crow, French, and American.” He shook his head. “I try to keep Ian aware of his heritage.”
“That’s why he goes to the reservation every summer?”
“Yes.”
“So you called your father by the French word for father and I assume Ihkáa is the Crow word for mother?”
“It is. As I said, it was a combination life.”
“It sounds like a wonderful one.”
He turned them and headed back to her house. “It’s getting late, and I’m sure after all the cooking you did today, you must be tired.”
“Yes, I am. And tomorrow’s a work day.”
“I thought school was closed tomorrow.”
“It is. But I have to work. I have plenty of papers to grade, and I have to start planning the Christmas concert and pageant.”
“You are amazing, Miss Cochran.” They reached her doorstep. He turned her and took her into his arms. “I hate to say this out loud, but I’m beginning to believe you do mean to stay.”
“Even after my tears?”
He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. “Even after your tears.”
Her breathing grew rapid and her heart began to pound. Despite the cold air, she felt warm, parts of her body even warmer. Mitch slid his palms up her arms until he reached her shoulders then drew her close. His head shifted and he took her mouth in a searing kiss. Again her toes curled, and she had the desire to fling off her coat. Heck, even her dress and undergarments. She’d seen enough of her parents kissing, and her cousins and their spouses, to know where something like this would lead.
Mitch pulled away and kissed her jaw. “So sweet.”
Her knees started to buckle, and he wrapped a strong arm around her waist to hold her up, taking her lips once more. His tongue nudged her lips until she gasped and he slid in, again touching all the spots in her mouth that set her on fire. She slid her palms up his chest and circled his neck, playing with the hair at his nape.
He released her mouth and closed his eyes. “You better go inside.”
“Yes. I don’t believe it’s proper for the new teacher to be standing at her front door kissing her student’s father.”
He grinned and pulled back. “I agree.” He turned and headed down the path, then looked back. “I’ll pick you up for church Sunday. Don’t work too hard tomorrow.”
With a slight salute, he was gone, disappearing into the shadows until he was half a block away and under a streetlight. Now that she’d lost his warmth, she shivered with the cold and let herself into the house.
What was that all about? She shrugged out of her coat, untied her bonnet, and placed them both on the hook by the door. She unhooked her half boots and, tucking her feet under her bottom, sat on the sofa. Spying the whiskey bottle on the table, she poured a tiny bit into one of the glasses still sitting there. She swirled the brown liquid around then held the glass up. “Here’s to you, Papa. Your little girl is all grown up.”
She gulped the whiskey down in one swallow and began to cough and sputter as the liquid burned all the way down her throat to her stomach.
“Maybe not so grown up, after all,” she rasped, trying to catch her breath.
Chapter 8
It was well into the second week of December and, according to the newspaper that now came directly from Denver every day instead of on the mail coach three days a week, snow had been predicted by evening.
Priscilla looked at the threatening sky and hoped she and Mitch could get to the Beekers’ house and back before the snow began to fall. She really didn’t want to miss seeing Mrs. Beeker. Little Emily had been having some issues in class over the last couple of weeks and when she showed up in the same dress three days in a row with no lunch, Priscilla decided to make the trip to their small farm outside of Dogtown.
With no means of transportation, Mitch had offered to drive her when she presented him with her problem. They had gotten closer since Thanksgiving. She’d often thought his uncle had something to do with Mitch’s change of attitude toward her. She still wasn’t too sure of her own feelings where he was concerned. She liked him, felt a very strong attraction to him, but she had no interest in a relationship or the confinements that would bring with it. For as much as Ellie loved teaching, Max had been forced by the Board of Education to fire her when they’d married.
Priscilla was dressed for the weather and waiting outside her door when Mitch pulled up. He hopped out of the buggy and helped her up
onto the seat. “Do you think we can make it out to the Beeker farm and back before the snow?”
Mitch slapped the reins on the horses’ backsides and the two animals trotted off in rhythm. “I think so. The newspaper said evening, and it’s only two o’clock. I think we’ll be fine.”
“Who’s watching the store?”
“Ian’s there, thank goodness, because someone needs to keep an eye on Ernest. The man is blind as a bat.”
“It’s really nice of you to let him still work there.”
“My father started that back when he bought the store from Ernest. The man was lost without having a place to go each day, so Père let him hang around and it turned into a sort of part-time job.”
Priscilla pulled up the collar of her coat. “Brr. The air is much colder here than in Oklahoma. We get pretty low temperatures in the winter, but not usually this soon.”
Mitch reached behind him and grabbed a blanket that he tossed at her. “Here, wrap yourself in that.”
She snuggled into it, covering up all the way to her nose. Despite the cold weather and threat of snow, she was enjoying the ride. The air was very clear in Colorado, and the pine trees and aspens gave it a very different look from Oklahoma. She thought of Papa’s automobile and how, with the windows rolled up, it kept the cold air from blowing in your face. As much as she begged, he wouldn’t allow her to drive it. Yet he’d bought the automobile because Mama wanted to learn to drive. But then, she’d never known her papa to deny Mama anything.
Mitch pointed up the road. “We’re almost there. I’m surprised there’s no smoke coming from the chimney. I hope everything is all right there.”
“That’s why I wanted to make this trip. I’m afraid everything is not all right.”
Little Emily came to the door as they pulled up. “Miss Cochran! What are you doing here? Am I in trouble?”
Her little face was pinched with anxiety, and Priscilla was sure things were not going well in her home. “No, sweetie. Mr. Beaumont and I just wanted to stop by and say hello to your mama and papa. Are they inside?”
Merry Christmas, My Love Page 16
