Frontier Courtship Part 14

Faith answered instead, rather than give him the chance to explain that her ruined reputation on the wagon train had been the initial reason for the nickname. "And mud seems to follow me wherever I go. I washed up, but I'm afraid my hair is far from clean."

"I'll help you work on that."

"Oh, would you! That's wonderful."

Irene glanced at Connell. "Weren't you leaving?"

"I sure was. When two women start to sound off like a gaggle of geese I'd just as soon skedaddle."

Raising his hands, he ceremoniously folded his arms across his chest, each fist coming to rest at the point of the opposite shoulder. All teasing ended, he bowed slightly and said, "Good night," before ducking out the door.

Faith's breath caught. No one had to tell her that the sign he had made in parting was one of affection. Its meaning had been evident, both from his manner and his expression when he'd looked at Irene.

I was right here, too, Faith's pride insisted. Faith's pride insisted. He could have meant it for me, as well. He could have meant it for me, as well.

She would have loved to convince herself of that but she knew she was only making believe, just like the Indian children who had pretended that darling puppy was a real baby. Connell belonged to Irene and Irene belonged to Connell. End of story. Except...

Faith looked over at her doeskin-clad hostess. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Of course. You and I should have no secrets."

She steeled herself for the disavowal she was certain would come. "Who was that man out there under the blanket with you?"

"Ah. That was Red Deer." Irene's eyes misted. She sighed. "I will miss him terribly. He and I were planning to be married as soon as the first snow fell. He loves me-in spite of the fact that I'm almost seven years his senior."

Faith could hardly believe her ears. "Married? What about your promise to Connell?"

"I'd been a.s.sured he was dead. I thought I'd never see him again," Irene said sadly. "Ramsey lied to me about that, too."

"Perfidy seems to be his keenest skill."

"So I've learned." She mellowed noticeably. "Connell is amazing, isn't he? Imagine him locating me after all that's happened. When my so-called husband tried to do away with me, I should have presumed Connell was still alive and would keep searching till he found me. He was always very tenacious, even as a boy."

"How long have you known him?"

The older woman signed. "Forever. Our families were neighbors when we were children. After Connell's mother died, he and his father argued all the time. His father used to get drunk and beat him terribly. He ran away several times and came to our house for refuge. I think he was about thirteen and I was nearly seventeen when we pledged our troth."

"That's a long, long time ago," Faith offered innocently.

Irene smiled. "Not that that long." long."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply you were old. It's just that when I think about my life when Mama was alive, it seems like years and years have pa.s.sed."

"How long have you been on your own?"

"About three months. I've kind of lost track since I left the wagon train."

"Connell says your sister is still with the Tucker train."

Faith made a sour face. "Unfortunately. She told Connell she'd married the captain. There's nothing I can do for her as long as she insists on believing Ramsey Tucker's lies instead of listening to her own kin."

"How about you? Is there no special boy waiting back home for you?"

"I shall never marry," Faith insisted, thrusting out her chin for emphasis.

Irene merely laughed. "We'll see about that, Little Dove Woman. I hear there are many lonesome men in California yearning for a good wife."

"Well, it won't be me. I've learned plenty since I left Ohio. Men can be nasty and cruel. Look at Tucker. And Ab. And Stuart. Mr. Ledbetter was nice, but I couldn't even count on him for help when I needed it. I want nothing to do with the likes of any of them."

"Not all men are so unfeeling," Irene cautioned. "For instance, I happen to know that Connell admires you greatly."

"He does?" Faith's heart leaped like a frightened jackrabbit and landed in her throat.

"Yes. And I'm sure that if you can't find your father, Connell will be happy to take his place and make sure you get a good, honest, hardworking husband."

Faith's jaw dropped. If she could have thought of anything to say in reply that didn't sound unkind or ungrateful, she would have spoken. Unfortunately, a.s.sailed by such conflicting emotions, she had no adequate words to express her consternation.

Instead, she bit her tongue and prayed silently for G.o.d's forgiveness for the thoughts whirling wildly through her mind. It wasn't Irene's fault that they were all victims of such a complicated dilemma. Blame lay at Ramsey Tucker's door. Faith knew that.

She was also positive that whatever Connell's eventual place in her life became, she would never be able to see him as anything like a father figure. Never.

Chapter Twelve.

Morning in the Cheyenne camp came early. It seemed as if Faith had barely closed her eyes when she heard Connell in conversation outside Irene's teepee. He was probably speaking in Cheyenne, although it could just as easily have been Arapaho or any of the other odd languages she'd heard of late and she'd not have known the difference.

The timbre of his voice sent shivers dancing over her skin and skittering up her spine to tickle the fine hairs at the back of her neck. After the conversation she and Irene had had the previous night, she was even more confused. Faith didn't know exactly what she wanted Connell McClain to be to her, now or in the future, but she was certain she didn't need another daddy. Or an uncle, for that matter.

Then what? she asked herself. What was he? Rescuer? Friend? Cohort? Boon companion? Her guardian in buckskins? He had been all that...and more. When she looked at him her heart raced. The sound of his voice made her tremble. Mere thoughts of his gentle touch stole her breath away and left her yearning to seek him out, to be near him once again. she asked herself. What was he? Rescuer? Friend? Cohort? Boon companion? Her guardian in buckskins? He had been all that...and more. When she looked at him her heart raced. The sound of his voice made her tremble. Mere thoughts of his gentle touch stole her breath away and left her yearning to seek him out, to be near him once again.

"Foolish, foolish, foolish," Faith muttered, disgusted with the flight of fancy her imagination had taken. It was one thing to appreciate the big plainsman as a heaven-sent blessing, yet quite another to let her thoughts imbue him with characteristics beyond the norm. He was simply a man.

Ah, she mused, she mused, but he is so much more! but he is so much more!

"And I am crazy," she grumbled as she got to her feet. "Lock me up in the woodshed and hide the ax crazy." "Lock me up in the woodshed and hide the ax crazy."

From the doorway Connell said pleasantly, "If you say so."

Faith jumped. "Oh! You startled me."

"Sorry. I heard you talking and I was afraid Walks With Tree had sneaked past me."

She quickly scanned the empty lodge. "No. I'm alone. I was having an argument with myself."

"Oh? Who won?" he teased.

"I did, of course." Faith couldn't help grinning at him. "I couldn't hardly lose, given the lack of an intelligent adversary."

That candid observation made Connell laugh aloud and shake his head. "Has anybody ever told you how naturally funny you are?"

"Not as a compliment."

"Well, consider this to be one. If I wasn't so worried about our current situation you'd have me in st.i.tches all the time."

"Thanks. I think."

"You're quite welcome." He stepped back while holding open the door flap. "Come on. We're having a powwow in my lodge. I'd like you to be there."

Faith followed his orders without hesitation and fell into step beside him. "Will Irene be there, too?"

"Of course. She's waiting for us. We'll need her help if we expect to get out of this mess and keep our hair."

Scurrying to keep pace with his much longer strides, she made a sour face. "That sounds awful."

"Sorry. I didn't think. I'll try not to be so blunt."

"No, no," she said, laying a hand lightly on his arm. "I don't want to be coddled. I'm a part of all this and I need to know everything, just like the rest of you do."

"You're sure?"

"Positive. In spite of what everybody seems to think, I'm not a child. I'm a grown woman."

The muscles of his arm flexed beneath her fingers as he said, "I'm more than aware of that, believe me."

"All I have to contribute is Rojo," Connell told the group, "but if I have to give him up, I will. Black Kettle had never seen a canelo before. I know he fancies the red color."

Faith had folded her grandmother's quilt into a small bundle and was sitting on it instead of the buffalo robe. "I wish I still had the money Anna Morse gave me so I could donate something," she said, "but it's with Charity in our wagon."

Both Connell and Ab shook their heads. The plainsman explained. "Out here, the best currency is on the hoof. A swift, sure-footed horse can carry a hunter after buffalo or a warrior after his enemies. It's worth its weight in gold."

"That's right," Irene said. "Horses are used as a dowry, or payment of a debt, or as a reward for heroism...lots of things. A husband even has to give one to his mother-in-law if he wants to talk to her face-to-face. She can't even go visit her daughter unless she's sure her son-in-law is not at home."

Connell smirked, "Now that's a habit a lot of men would like to see spread to every culture."

"Very funny," Faith countered, making a face. "That rule was obviously made by men."

"Perhaps," Irene said. "But in many ways our women have more rights than you do. For instance, the horses given to a bride's father by her husband-to-be become her property and the whole herd stays with her even if the marriage breaks up. She also remains within her own tribe and he joins that one, instead of the other way around."

"Oh, my." Faith was surprised to hear the older woman seem to identify so closely with the Indians, but since no one else had noticed that Irene had referred to the Indians as "our" women, she made no comment. Poor Irene. Poor Irene. It was getting easier and easier for Faith to push aside any niggling envy and feel sorry for her. After all, the woman had loved Connell and believed he was dead, then married a skunk like Tucker and almost lost her life because of it. It was getting easier and easier for Faith to push aside any niggling envy and feel sorry for her. After all, the woman had loved Connell and believed he was dead, then married a skunk like Tucker and almost lost her life because of it.

Being sold into slavery to the Arapaho or traded to the Cheyenne sounded like solace after having endured all that other grief.

Except what about Red Deer? Faith added, keeping her thoughts to herself while the others continued to discuss various options relating to barter with Black Kettle. How sad it was that Irene had found true love, only to be forced to abandon it. Still, she had been reunited with her betrothed. Some women never had even one chance at happiness, yet here was Irene, so blessed with men who loved her that her heart was torn between them! Faith added, keeping her thoughts to herself while the others continued to discuss various options relating to barter with Black Kettle. How sad it was that Irene had found true love, only to be forced to abandon it. Still, she had been reunited with her betrothed. Some women never had even one chance at happiness, yet here was Irene, so blessed with men who loved her that her heart was torn between them!

I will not be jealous, Faith insisted. Faith insisted. I will not covet her good fortune. I will not covet her good fortune.

Furious at the difficulty she was having living up to those n.o.ble declarations, she felt like stamping her foot and shouting, I won't, I won't, I won't. I won't, I won't, I won't.

How adult. How ladylike. How stupid, she told herself wisely. The others were never going to accept her as their equal unless she took control of her emotions. It was high time to stop thinking with her heart and start relying upon her wits again. she told herself wisely. The others were never going to accept her as their equal unless she took control of her emotions. It was high time to stop thinking with her heart and start relying upon her wits again.

It would also help her mature image if she quit running around with her Cheyenne garb tied around her waist, she added, blushing. Now that Irene had explained how the knotted cord was supposed to be tied and that its presence was more symbolic than functional, it was easy to see what the Indian girl had been trying to explain with her confusing hand signals.

Lost in thought, Faith worried a loose thread in the quilt hem with nervous fingers. Every time she recalled her encounter with Connell from the previous evening she was mortified all over again. If she lived to be a hundred years old, she didn't think she'd ever ever be more embarra.s.sed than she had been the moment she'd fully comprehended her openly scandalous error. be more embarra.s.sed than she had been the moment she'd fully comprehended her openly scandalous error.

No one asked Faith's opinion during the impromptu powwow so she offered none. When the group broke up and Connell left to meet with Black Kettle, she was the only one who chose to remain in the teepee to wait for him.

Upon his return his countenance was grim. She managed to allow him a few moments of peace before her curiosity and impatience got the better of her and she blurted out the questions that had been nagging her.

"Well? Did you make the trade? Can we leave soon?"

"Yes, I've arranged for Irene's freedom. And, no, we can't leave right away."

"Why not?" Faith's imagination immediately saw many possible scenarios-all of them bad.

"Because Black Kettle wants to hold a special feast in our honor."

Her breath left in a whoosh of relief. "Oh, is that all? When?"

"Tonight. That's when the exchange will take place and Irene will confer her supposed spiritual powers on Walks With Tree."

"Can he be trusted?"

"As long as he sees an advantage for himself, yes."

"What if he pretends to go along with your plan, then changes his mind and tells Black Kettle the truth?"

Connell regarded her with concern. "He won't."

"But what if he does?"

"Let's worry about the things we can control and leave the other stuff to the Good Lord, okay?" He stopped looking so somber and smiled encouragingly. "If you want to help, I suggest you spend the afternoon praying that our plan works and that n.o.body gets hurt in the process."

She pulled a disgusted face. "Maybe you should do the praying for both of us. I'm afraid G.o.d isn't very happy with me right now."

"Oh no? What terrible sin have you committed, Little Dove Woman?"