A Willing Spirit, A Ghostly Romance

by Cynthia Sterling

CHAPTER EIGHT

  Tessa gasped and sprang away from Deering, who busied himself trying to straighten his clothing, Micah glared at the preacher. “Is something wrong? I heard you cry out, then saw Tessa examining you.”

  She would no doubt have been kissing him if you hadn’t interfered. Will thought grumpily. Well, he knew how to deal with Micah. He stepped forward and laid a ghostly hand alongside the mare’s flank.

  As if touched by a brand, the horse sprang back and tried to run. Micah reined her in sharply, legs gripping the saddle in a show of expert horsemanship. “I’d better take her back to the barn,” he called. “If you’re sure you’re all right?”

  “We’re fine,” Tessa said. After Micah rode off, she studied the ground around them. “There must be a hornet’s nest or something near here. “That mare acted as if she’d been stung.”

  “It’s a sign,” Deering said.

  Tessa stared at him. “A sign?”

  Will groaned. If anybody heard him, they would think it was the wind. “It’s one more sign that this is the place for me to begin my mission.” He moved toward Tessa, arms outstretched as if to gather her near. “The Lord sent me here today to talk to you, Mrs. Bright. He directed me to look about your land to see what use I might make of it. Now I know that this is the place He wants me to build my chapel.”

  “Your chapel?” Tessa asked.

  Will glared at Deering. He hadn’t said anything about a chapel.

  “I was in the sanctuary this morning, polishing the candlesticks and meditating on Matthew 5:16, “Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father, which is in Heaven.”” Deering said. “The Lord came to me and sent me here.”

  “The Lord sent you here?” Tessa asked, looking around as if she knew Will was listening.

  “Yes. I knew then that this was the place I was supposed to set my light, the light of the word of the Lord to the Indians. You can help me spread that word by introducing me to the Indians you know.”

  Tessa frowned. “I don’t know…”

  Will picked up another pebble and aimed it at Tessa. He meant to graze her arm, but ended up hitting her shoulder instead. She jumped and cried out. “Whatever we do, we’d better get out of here,” she said. “These hornets are vicious.”

  “Don’t think of it as a hornet,” Deering said, following her across the field. “Think of it as a sign from the Lord.”

  “A sign in a hornet sting?”

  “He works in mysterious ways, Mrs. Bright.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, Reverend.”

  “What about my chapel?”

  “I’ll think about it. Right now, I think you’d better go home while I…I’ll have a little chat with the Lord myself.”

  “You do that, Mrs. Bright. I believe all things are possible through prayer.”

  “Yes, Reverend. I believe that, too.” She watched the preacher walk away, then stalked toward the house.” Once inside, she went into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of water. “Out with it, Will,” she demanded. “Did you tell that poor man to come here and build a chapel?”

  “Not exactly.” He pulled a chair back from the table and settle in it. Even though he didn’t actually need to sit, he thought doing so might encourage Tessa to join him. “I did suggest he ride out here and take a look around. I’m trying to get him interested in the ranch.”

  “The ranch.” She set her cup on the table with a loud thump.

  “And you too, of course.” He chuckled. “I thought for a minute there he was going to kiss you.”

  “I do not want to kiss Reverend Deering!” She sounded truly horrified, her voice rising an octave on the last syllable.

  “You didn’t seem to have much trouble kissing Fox the other night.”

  She dropped into a chair, white faced. “You were spying on me.”

  “Actually, I was spying on Fox and you happened to come along.”

  She glared in his direction. “You took him into town, where you knew there’d be trouble.”

  “I just wanted him to see the attitude of people around here, to recognize that he’s bad for you.”

  “Don’t you think I know that already? I’m not a child, Will.”

  No, not a child. He rose and came to her, close enough that his cold breath stirred her hair. How long had it been since he’d been able to touch her without her flinching from the chill? “I know,” he said softly. “I just want you to be happy again.”

  She nodded. “Then trust me to make the right decisions for myself. And leave Reverend Deering and Micah alone.”

  She waited for him to make that promise, but he couldn’t. He’d come back to watch over her and he had no choice but to do so. She wouldn’t understand, so he left her in silence. Sometimes it was better that way, when to speak would only hurt her more.

 

  Micah hefted his saddle off the mare and tossed it onto the saddle rack. He stripped off the saddle blanket and began rubbing the horse’s lathered hide with straw, his fingers probing for a hornet sting or saddle burr that might have caused her to buck so suddenly. All the while he worked his brain was feverish with images of the Reverend Jonathan Deering standing in the pasture with his shirt half off, about to pull Tessa into his arms.

  “Did you find out what startled her?”

  He looked up and saw Tessa silhouetted in the barn door, sunlight tracing her every curve. His mouth went dry and his muscles tightened with need. Forcing his eyes away from the vision, he shook his head, tossed aside the handful of dirty straw, and swatted the mare’s rump to herd her into the stall.

  Tessa came to stand beside him as he fastened the stall door. “What did the preacher want?” he asked. As if he didn’t already know. What would any man in his right mind want from Tessa? He looked down at her, at the delicate curve of her shoulders and the soft white skin at the base of her throat, skin he longed to kiss.

  “He wants to build a chapel on my land. A chapel for the Indians.”

  Micah grunted. “That’s all?”

  She glanced at him. “What did you think?”

  He bent and scooped the saddle blanket from the floor, shook it out, then draped it over his saddle. “What was I supposed to think with him standing there so close to you, half undressed?”

  “I was looking for a hornet sting!”

  He glanced at her. Why was she smiling like that? “I do believe you’re jealous,” she said, coming to stand beside him once more.

  “Why shouldn’t I be jealous?” He moved aside, but she followed him. He didn’t want to be so close to her, so close to memories of the way she felt in his arms, the way she tasted, the smell of her. He half turned away, so that she wouldn’t see the state she had brought him to, just by standing next to him. “Are you going to let Deering do it?”

  “Do what?” She leaned toward him, the simple words taking on a wealth of illicit meaning in his mind.

  “Are you going to let him build a chapel?” he snapped.

  She straightened. “I think I’ll ask the Indians first.”

  He blinked. Indians? Was she talking about him? “What Indians?”

  “You’ll see. They’ll be coming to visit soon.” With an enigmatic smile, she turned and walked away, leaving him curious and confused, physically and mentally frustrated.

  When a woman can do that to you, he thought as he stared after her. Then you are in serious trouble.

  Two days later, Micah was surprised to find Tessa in the kitchen, sweating over a blazing stove. “What’s going on?” he asked, staring at plate after plate of cookies cooling on the table, chairs and counter.

  “Getting ready for company.” She spooned globs of batter onto a pan.

  He picked up a cookie and bit into it. “Are you expecting an army of children?”

  She shook her head. “Do you like the cookies? I got the recipe from Ada Drake.”

  He nodded and smiled, not at the cookie, but at the appealing picture s
he made standing before him, her cheeks flushed with the heat, a smudge of flour on her nose. He caught her gaze and held it, knowing he was looking at her too long but unable to stop. Was it only because he knew he couldn’t have her that he wanted her so? Was he imagining that he read the same wanting in her eyes?

  In the end, she turned away, and began once more carefully measuring cookie dough into the pan. “I need you to bring all the horses into the corral this afternoon, where we can keep a close eye on them,” she said. “And make sure the fence is in good repair and the gates are strong.”

  “All right.” He claimed another cookie and left, wondering about guests who would require dozens of sugar cookies and a reinforced horse corral.

  His answer came in the early afternoon, with the arrival of half a dozen Indian braves and assorted horses, dogs, and boys. Micah regarded them warily. They wore not paint, and it was unlikely they’d launch a raid in broad daylight. “These are the friends I told you about,” Tessa said, coming out of the house to stand beside him.

  The Indian party halted just outside the picket fence surrounding the house. The men dismounted and left their horses with the boys, then came into the yard to stand before Micah and Tessa. He recognized Drinking Wolf, the warrior who had brought the venison. An older man next to him was some kind of chief, judging by the eagle feathers tied in his scalp lock. Tessa introduced him as Tabapahdua – Sun Bear. He was an imposing figure, easily matching Micah in height, with a deep-muscled chest. He wore deerskin leggings and breechclout, with three rings of silver in each ear and a streak of red paint defining the part of his hair.

  Tessa stepped forward, smiling. “It is good to see you,” she said, making the sign for greeting.

  “It is good to see you also.” Sun Bear spoke Comanche, translating his words to sign. He glanced at Micah. “Esahiwi told us you had a new man.”

  Either Tessa did not understand the words, or she chose to ignore them. “I am not her man – yet.” Micah surprised himself with the comment, made in Comanche. He told himself he said it because he wanted the chief to know Tessa had a protector.

  The chief raised one eyebrow and glanced at Tessa. “It will not be many moons,” he said. “She has been without a man too long.”

  Tessa frowned at them. Sun Bear had stopped speaking in sign. “It is good of you to come today,” she said, picking up the conversation again, hands moving gracefully to translate the words into motions.

  The chief glanced at Micah, who indicated that Tessa alone knew the purpose of the day’s meeting. Sun Bear grunted. “I came over because I think maybe you are ready to hand over the horse you owe me.”

  Tessa smiled. “First we eat. Then we talk.”

  She left them to arrange themselves in a semi-circle on the ground in front of the porch. Micah started to follow Tessa inside, then decided maybe he should keep an eye on the chief. What was all that about Tessa owing him a horse? No wonder she’d insisted her stock he brought in close to the house.

  The rest of the men joined Sun Bear and Micah on the ground, while the boys watched over the ponies outside the picket fence. The chief glanced at Micah. “You are not from here,” he said. “Who are your people?”

  Micah hesitated. The simple question had a number of different answers. He’d been born into his father’s tribe in the Texas panhandle near the Canadian River and lived with his white aunt and uncle in East Texas from the age of twelve, until he left them at seventeen to join the Army. He’d spent the next decade trying to find his place among soldiers and scouts at half a dozen different posts. He had never felt he truly belonged to any of those places, yet he thought he knew what Chief Sun Bear wanted to know. “Kiowa,” he said. “My father was Winter Fox, a warrior under Little Mountain.”

  Recognition flashed in Sun Bear’s eyes. Kiowa and Comanche had been allies for decades. Little Mountain’s reputation as a fighter was well known and respected. Sun Bear leaned forward, studying him. Micah held himself still, not flinching under the piercing gaze. “Your mother was white?” the old man asked after a while.

  He nodded. And half of me is white, he thought. Does that make me your enemy?

  The chief sat back and nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I had a white white once. She was soft and smelled nice. But not pretty like a real woman.” He cut his eyes to Micah. “For a half-breed, maybe just right.”

  Everyone laughed. Even Micah found himself unbending enough to crack a smile. Sun Bear sat with the relaxed posture of a man comfortable with his own authority. For now, at least, he posed no threat and expected none in return.

  Will rolled his eyes at Sun Bear’s “joke” about Fox and Tessa. The old guy thought he was such a card. But he’d been a good friend, to Will and to Tessa after Will had died. Will wouldn’t ever forget that.

  Tessa came out with platters of cookies and began distributing the sweets among the men. Will examined a platter with interest. Must be a new recipe. The Indians chowed down with approval but then, he’d never seen anything they didn’t like, at least when it came to Tessa’s cooking.

  Or Tessa herself, for that matter.

  Right after Will had died, the old chief had come to Tessa and asked her to be his wife. He had promised her many horses of her own and a new deerskin dress every season. Tessa had been shocked at first, then amused. But Will had seen nothing funny about the proposal. If things on the ranch got bad enough, would Tessa consider taking the old chief up on his offer?

  That was when Will had decided to make himself known to Tessa. Up until then, he’d watched over her from a distance, not wanting to frighten her. But after Sun Bear proposed, he felt he had to let her know he still intended to keep looking after her.

  He wandered among the Indians, searching for the faces of friends. He’d thought about going to the trouble of materializing and visiting with some of his old pals. He could have said he was Will’s hermit brother or something.

  It might have worked with a group of white, but the Indians were a sharp-eyed lot, and superstitious to boot. They might have recognized him for what he was. They didn’t pretend not to believe in ghosts and spirits and such, like white people did. But they tended to stay far away from such things. The knowledge he was here might run them off for good.

  So he contented himself with remaining invisible and playing harmless tricks to pass the time. He sat near Drinking Wolf until the half-naked youth developed goose bumps and had to get up to keep from freezing. He stole cookies off of Little Dog’s plate when he wasn’t looking and crumbled them into pieces on the ground.

  After all, a ghost denied earthly pleasures had to take his fun where he could find it.

 

  Sun Bear leaned toward Micah once more. “She is a good woman, even for a white woman,” he said. “She has very many horses and is a good cook, too.”

  Micah followed the chief’s gaze toward Tessa, who was still handing out cookies. He nodded, holding in his smile. The chief sounded for all the world like a proud father trying to convince a young suitor of the merits of his daughter.

  At last all the cookies were eaten. Sun Bear stood, brushing crumbs from his breechclout and leggings. His men rose also, as did Micha, and Tessa came to stand with them. “Is today the day you hand over the horse you owe me?” Sun Bear asked, eyes twinkling with suppressed mirth.

  Tessa shook her head. “Not today.”

  The chief folded his arms across his chest. “Then maybe today is the day you decide to be my woman. I will let you keep your own horses.”

  The words sent Micah reeling. He opened his mouth to protest, but Tessa’s smile disarmed him. “Your offer is very generous, but I must decline,” she said. “Today I asked you here because I need your advice.”

  “Ah.” Sun Bear nodded. “What kind of advice?”

  “There is a man in town, a holy man among my people. He wants to build a special building here on my land. A place for the Indians to come and listen to this holy man speak about
the Great Spirit.”

  Sun Bear bowed his head, considering her words. “And what else will this man do beside speak?’ he asked after a moment.

  “That is all. He believes he has been sent with a message for your people.”

  Sun Bear arched his eyebrows. “Why would the Great Spirit send a white man to speak to us?”

  Tessa shrugged. “I don’t know. What should I tell this man?”

  “If he builds this special place, what will be require of the Indians who come there?” Sun Bear asked.

  “Only that you listen.” She cupped her hand to one ear in the familiar sign.

  Sun Bear shook his head. “White men have said things like this before. Their requests are simple and seem easy to meet. But they always want more, and it is never to our benefit, only theirs.”

  “Then you want me to tell him no?”

  Sun Bear looked thoughtful. “I will have to consider this more.” He turned to Micah and addressed him in Comanche. “In a few sleeps, when the moon is full, we will have a hunt. You must come and celebrate with us.”

  Micah would never have thought to ask such a favor, and the appeal the offer held for him startled him almost as much as the invitation itself. He tried to hide his confused feelings behind a blank expression. “Where is your camp?”

  “It is along the creek.” The chief sketched a crooked waterway in the air. “Turn away from the river to follow the creek when you come to an old cottonwood that has been struck by lightning.”

  Micah nodded. “I will be honored to come.”

  Sun Bear turned back to Tessa and addressed her in sign. “You will come with this man to our camp. Bring this holy man of yours with you also. I would like to meet him.”

  Tessa glanced at Micah, obviously puzzled by the invitation, but she nodded. “I will be honored to come.”

  The chief looked satisfied. “It is time to go now.”

  Micah and Tessa stood in the yard and watched them mount up and ride away. “What did he mean when he said I should come with you?” she asked.

  “He invited us to come to a hunting celebration in a few days, when the moon is full.”

  Her eyes widened. “He’s never done anything like that before.”

  “How long have you known him?” Micah turned toward her.

  “Three years.”

  He waited, but she didn’t elaborate. Perhaps she enjoyed teasing him this way, making her probe for information. “What did he mean when he said you owed him a horse?”

  She smiled, though her eyes looked sad. “My husband first met Sun Bear when he caught him trying to steal some of our horses.” She raised her head, and Micah followed her gaze to the stout corral where a dozen glossy-coated animals milled about. “My husband stopped him and surprised him by speaking to him in sign. He convinced Sun Bear that he was a friend, not an enemy. The two talked a long time, then my husband brought him up to the house to eat.” Her voice trailed away, and Micah knew she was lost in thought, remembering another time, a time when she had been in love with someone else, before she had even known he existed. He looked away, fighting back an unreasonable jealousy.

  “Sun Bear always said if my husband hadn’t stopped him that day, he would have had a fine new horse,” she continued. “They always joked that one day Sun Bear would have his horse.”

  “And the cookies?”

  She laughed. “I happened to be baking cookies the day Sun Bear arrived, so I offered him some. He ate every one and asked for more.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the corral. “After the first time, I always tried to have sweets to serve him.”

  “And you learned Indian sign?”

  She nodded. “I made the old man teach me.”

  He frowned. That old hermit again. “He taught you to sign? Why didn’t your husband teach you?”

  She looked away. “He…he taught us both. The hermit taught us both.”

  Don’t turn away from me like that, he thought. With every question he asked, the feeling grew that there were things she had not told him, important details of the picture she’d chosen to leave out. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from asking more, hoping somehow she would take him into her confidence. “What about Sun Bear’s proposal that you be his wife?”

  She laughed again. “Oh, he’s not serious!”

  “I think he is.” He had seen the admiration in the old chief’s eyes when he looked at Tessa, an affection colored with a desire that matched the feeling Micah carried in his own heart.

  Tessa blushed and smoothed her apron, which wasn’t the least bit wrinkled. “You’re full of questions this afternoon,” she said. “Now I have one for you. What did Sun Bear say to you?”

  “When?”

  “I saw you talking together while I was inside getting the cookies.”

  He met her gaze, challenging her to read his feelings. “He wanted to know if we were married.”

  Her eyes widened in shock – or was that fear? “What did you tell him?”

  “The truth.” But not the whole truth, of course. “Would you rather I’d lied?”

  She dropped her gaze and fussed with her apron again. “I was just curious.”

  He clenched his hands into fists to keep from reaching out and capturing her restless fingers in his own. “He thinks we make a good pair.”

  “Oh he does, does he?” She looked away, but not before he caught the hint of a blush on her cheeks. When she turned toward him again, however, her expression was more guarded. “Was your mother or your father a Comanche?”

  So she had been wondering about him. The thought pleased him. “Neither. I’m half Kiowa.”

  She looked puzzled. “Then where did you learn to speak Comanche?”

  “I learned it when I worked for the Army.” He could play this game, too, forcing her to pull information out of him one piece at a time. “Speaking of the Army, do they know about your friendship with the Indians?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve never tried to keep it a secret. Besides, Sun Bear and his people aren’t classified as a hostile tribe.”

  “There are a lot of people who wouldn’t agree with you.” He squinted down the drive, toward the settling dust, all that was left of the Indian’s passing. “I’ve heard talk of Texans’ petitioning the government to do away with the reservations altogether and move the Indians out of state, the way they did the tribes in Florida and Mississippi.”

  “Sun Bear’s people were here before any of us. This is their land. I don’t see why we can’t share it.”

  “I doubt that idea appeals to Indians any more than it does to Texans,” he said.

  “I don’t see any point in fretting about something that hasn’t happened yet.” She turned back toward the house.

  She was either pitifully naïve or determined to ignore the obvious. He followed her, intending to force her to admit the risk she was taking by befriending Sun Bear and his people. “Did you notice one of the boys tending the ponies was a captive?” he asked. “Mexican, by the looks of him.”

  She stopped at the edge of the front porch and glared at him. “What are you trying to say?”

  “These people are warriors. They’re used to going where they please, doing whatever they like. If the government thinks it can control them by putting them on a reservation, it’s dreaming.”

  “Just like no one can tell you what to do, is that it?”

  He bristled. “What do you mean by that?”

  She met his gaze with a hard look of her own. “I heard about the fight in the saloon. How Gabe Emerson asked you to leave and you wouldn’t.”

  That again! He couldn’t believe she was bringing it up now. “Emerson didn’t ask. He ordered. And backed up his words with a loaded sidearm.”

  Her expression clouded. “I don’t want you stirring up trouble in town.”

  He resented having to defend himself this way. “I just went in for a beer. The bartender didn’t have any trouble serving me, so it was none of Eme
rson’s business.”

  “Just be more careful next time.” She put her foot on the bottom step. “I’m going in now. I’m tired.”

  He watched her walk across the porch. Was Tessa concerned for his safety, or just her own reputation? He might have asked her, if he hadn’t been afraid her answer would bother him more than not knowing.