Defiant Heart

by Tracey Bateman

  Now why did she have to go and tell a lie like that? Fannie fumed, but knew she had no choice now. She cleared her throat. “They’re fine.”

  Blake’s eyes narrowed, but Toni jumped in again. “Now, Fannie. Tell Mr. Tanner what you said earlier.”

  Blinking, Fannie tried to search her mind for the comment Toni was referring to. Suddenly, Toni gave a laugh that Fannie didn’t believe and waved her hand nonchalantly. “She’s just too shy to say so, but Fannie told me these were the softest gloves she’s ever seen, and they feel just like second skin on her hands.”

  Oh. Well, she hadn’t said it exactly like that. But she supposed it was close enough to what she meant. But why did Toni have to go and get such a big mouth all of a sudden? Fannie wouldn’t have said that much. She’d thanked him, and that was enough. Men never did anything without a price, and she wasn’t going to give Blake so much as a smile, let alone anything else as payment.

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Tanner. I won’t slow down the train anymore. Those gloves will do just the trick and keep me working.”

  Blake stared speechless. He frowned in confusion, then his expression turned to anger. “Let’s hope so, because we can’t abide any more delays.”

  Alarm squeezed Fannie nearly in two. Her bravado left her, and she met Blake’s gaze earnestly. “You have my word. Please excuse me.” She swung around and stalked back to the wagon before he could note the fear in her eyes or the quake in her voice. She climbed inside and sat against the side, knees pressed up to her chest. Sitting in the stuffy solitude, she made a decision. No longer would Blake Tanner have cause to regret their presence in his precious wagon train. From now on, she was going to pull her weight and then some. No matter what, Blake wasn’t going to have any excuse to turn her and her little band out on the open prairie.

  Eleven

  Blake knew better than to let down his guard. Still, after two weeks without incident, he was starting to relax and ease back into the familiar life on the trail. True to her word, Fannie had become a model member of the wagon train. She did her share of the work and then some. Had learned to hitch and unhitch the oxen without help. He had to admit, he enjoyed watching her wearing those gloves more than he ever thought he would. Knowing her hands weren’t shredded and bleeding made the sacrifice more than worth it.

  A request had been made to stop early on Saturday night and get the wagon train ready for a wedding between one of Willard James’s girls and Harvey Luther’s son, Thomas. Passing a town with a preacher had been more than Thomas had been willing to let go. He was ready to marry the girl of his choice.

  Since he was in such a good mood, and since the weather had been so cooperative lately, helping them make up for lost time, Blake had decided to allow it. Since the announcement, three more couples had come forward with their intention to marry that night.

  So now at noon on a perfect day to stay on the trail, he had called a halt beside a creek. After chores, the ladies had ordered the men to stay away from the water while they took time to bathe and try to look presentable for the night’s festivities.

  He had to admit, the charge of excitement in the air was becoming infectious, and he thought he might cast off his buckskins and don a pair of trousers and a white shirt for the occasion. Come to think of it, a dip in the creek would probably do him some good, and maybe he could talk Sadie into taking her shears to his nearly shoulder-length hair.

  And perhaps he’d take a turn around the dance floor with two or three of the women of the train. He was due for a little fun. The thought lifted his spirits even more, and he headed away from his own campfire in search of Sadie.

  Sam rode into camp and made a beeline for Blake. By the serious look on his friend’s face, Blake knew his two weeks of no trouble were over.

  Fannie entered her wagon, feeling fresh and clean and wonderful after a dip in the creek. She sat on the wagon floor brushing her hair and staring at the trousers she’d been wearing for weeks. Part of her longed to cast off the manly clothes and don more appropriate attire, but since she’d carelessly thought of only enough material for Katie to have a couple of new dresses, she had only herself to blame.

  Fannie couldn’t help but catch the excitement traveling through camp at the reality of a wedding and a dance, and, of course, Toni was downright swooning at the thought. The twins were beside themselves and were barely manageable even upon threat of being sent to bed early and not being allowed to join the celebration. But they knew she was only bluffing and paid her no mind.

  She smiled at the memory and was just twisting her hair back into a knot at the nape of her neck when a soft tap on the wagon drew her attention. She crawled to the wagon and lifted aside the flap.

  “Mrs. Cooper.” In four weeks, this was the first time the woman had made any sort of overture toward her, so the words came from her mouth with a lilt of surprise.

  Edna Cooper’s cheeks tinged pink. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here.”

  “A little, yes.” There was no point in lying about it.

  “I just hoped I could speak with you.”

  “Certainly. I’ll be out in just a minute.” She set the brush down, patted her damp hair, and tied the flap out of the way.

  The other woman stepped back so Fannie could climb from the wagon. From a distance, Edna Cooper had not appeared so tall. But Fannie had to look up to meet her eyes. She was a lovely woman. Jealousy pinched her at the thought of this woman bringing breakfast to Blake. She noticed the woman carried a garment over her arm. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Cooper?”

  A slow smile touched her perfectly curved mouth. “Please call me Edna. Mrs. Cooper makes me feel old, and I’d bet I’m not more than two years older than you are.”

  “All right, Edna.” Fannie couldn’t help but return the smile.

  Edna pushed the garment toward her. “I brought you this.”

  Fannie stared at the lovely blue gown of silk and lace. Then stared back up at the young widow. “I don’t understand.” Did she seem like a charity case that everyone suddenly wanted to give her gifts?

  “Please don’t be offended.” Her soft voice pleaded with sincerity, and Fannie felt herself relax.

  “I’ve been working on this since they announced we’d be stopping for a wedding and celebration.”

  Working on it?

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I didn’t make it in three days.” She laughed. “Heavens. What I meant was that I thought you might like a dress to wear to the wedding. I had so many that aren’t suitable for the trail. I thought I’d never have a chance to wear them again. And I may not after tonight.”

  “Then you should wear it.”

  “It doesn’t fit me anymore. That’s what I meant when I said I’ve been working on it all week. Of course I could only guess at the right size, but I shortened it and took it in here and there. I’d be honored if you’d accept this as my welcome into the wagon train.”

  “I’ve been two wagons behind you for almost a month…”

  Edna nodded, shamefaced. “This is a long-overdue gesture of friendship. I hope you’ll accept it.”

  “I don’t know…” Fannie eyed the beautiful gown. She’d never owned anything so beautiful. In spite of herself, she reached out and fingered the silky material.

  “Take it, Fannie. This blue was made to wear with eyes like yours. Blake won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.”

  Fannie jerked her hand away as though the dress had suddenly risen to one hundred degrees. “Thank you just the same, Mrs. Cooper, but I can’t accept. Please excuse me while I go to the Kanes’ wagon and check on Katie.”

  Puzzlement clouded Edna’s eyes. “I’m sorry if I’ve done or said anything wrong.”

  “No. You haven’t. I like wearing britches, that’s all. Dresses make me…” Fannie searched for a word. Any word. “Itch.”

  Blake strode toward Fannie’s wagon, dreading the forthcoming conversation, but knowing it had to be done just the same. He alm
ost ran into Edna walking toward him. He reached out to steady her. “Blake, I was coming to find you,” she said breathlessly, touching her long, slender fingers to her collar.

  “Can it wait? I need to speak with Miss Caldwell.”

  “She’s not there.” Edna’s gaze focused down the line of wagons. “She said she was going to see about Katie.”

  “Tarnation.” Blake shot a glance at the young widow. “Beg pardon.”

  “It’s all right, Blake. Why don’t you come to my campfire and have some coffee while we talk for a few minutes?”

  What other choice did he have short of rudeness? Blake felt his own collar grow tighter as he followed Edna, dreading the scene sure to play out as soon as he had a cup of the hot bitter brew in his hands.

  He sat on the tongue of her wagon and waited for the onslaught.

  “Lovely day for a wedding,” he said. Now, why’d he have to go and say a thing like that? he berated himself. She was sure enough going to think he was gearing up for a proposal.

  Edna chuckled. “Oh, Blake. Don’t look so afraid. I’m not going to beg for your love. And I’m certainly not waiting for you to ask for my hand in marriage.”

  Relieved, Blake took the cup she extended. “Is everything okay?”

  She nodded. “I-I just wanted you to know that I’ve accepted Jason Stewart’s proposal of marriage. We’ll be getting married tonight with the rest.”

  Blake opened his mouth, and nothing came out. Absolutely no words entered his mind in response so he stared dumbly and waited for her to say something else.

  “Jason is a good, kind man and will make a fine husband.”

  Blake nodded, finding his tongue. “Sure. He’s a real good man. A woman could do worse than to marry up with Jason.”

  A rueful smile touched her lips. “I’m glad you approve.”

  Blake gave her a sheepish shrug. “Well, I do.”

  “I just wanted you to know I don’t harbor any resentment toward you over your seeming change of affection.”

  Heat crawled up his neck and blasted his face. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything, Blake. Fannie is a lovely girl.”

  Blake fought to keep from spitting out the sip of coffee. “Fannie? What are you talking about?”

  “You might not be ready to admit it, but it’s pretty obvious you’re sweet on her.”

  He stood abruptly. “You’re mistaken. My interest in Fannie is strictly the need to stay on my guard against whatever trouble she’s going to cause next.”

  A knowing grin swept her face. “Have it your way. I’ll see you later at the wedding.”

  “If I go.”

  Willard James grinned as soon as he stepped into the saloon. He’d suspected a town as soon as he’d seen that half-breed ride back into camp with a paper of some sort in his hands. And in these parts, wherever there was a town with paper, there was likely a saloon. Nearly a month had gone by since he’d wet his whistle with a bottle of whiskey, and he wasn’t going to let Blake Tanner or anyone else tell him he couldn’t do it.

  He stepped up to the bar and ordered a whole bottle, and then swept the whiskey and a glass from the counter and found his way to a table where a game of cards was already in session.

  “Hey, stranger,” jawed an old-timer, his beard and hair snowy white, his hands shaking with age as he held his cards. “Want us to deal ya in?”

  “Sure.” Willard flashed his grin. The one that usually got him anything he wanted. A lazy-smiled cowpoke looked up from his hand and kicked out the chair across from him. “Have a seat.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” Willard took the chair and sat. He poured himself a drink while he waited for the hand to end. When all was said and done, three other men sat silently, morosely even, staring at the lazy-smiled cowpoke with resentment as he two-handedly raked his winnings from the center of the table and scooped them into his hat. He stretched back, lit a cigar, and stared at Willard. “You from the wagon train camped a few miles east of town?”

  “We’ll just keep that between us.” After two shots of whiskey, he was beginning to feel amicable. “Let’s deal the cards.”

  “Just a minute. Do these two look familiar?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a document. Slowly, he unfolded the paper and slid it across the table. Willard eyed the wanted poster, lifted his gaze back to the man, and lied.

  Toni was holding the blue gown when Fannie got back to the campsite with Katie in tow. “Look at this, Fannie. Someone left it here for you.”

  “How do you know it’s for me?”

  “Because it’s too small for me and too big for Katie.” Toni peered closer. “You already knew about this. Who did it?”

  “Oh, Fannie,” Katie breathed, reaching out gingerly to test the fabric. “It’s just the prettiest dress I’ve ever seen in my whole entire life.”

  “Well, I’m not taking it, and I’d rather die than wear it.”

  “Where’d it come from,” Toni pressed.

  “Edna Cooper, that’s who.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  Fannie yanked the gown from her hands. “I am not, and I told her I wasn’t going to take it. I don’t know why she left it.”

  Toni grabbed her arm and swung her around. “Wait. What happened? Edna Cooper brought you this lovely gown. The same Edna that used to take breakfast to Blake and Sam every morning until Blake told her to stop?”

  “He did?”

  “That’s what Sam told me. Says he has to eat jerky now unless Mrs. Barnes takes pity on them.” She let out a chuckle.

  “Why did Blake tell her to stop?”

  “Why don’t you ask him?” She took the dress back and smoothed it out. “Tonight at the wedding. While you wear this.”

  Fannie stared back silently. Two things she knew for sure: One, she wasn’t asking Blake any such thing, and two, she wasn’t wearing that dress.

  The rest of the day, the train buzzed with excitement as fires sizzled with cooking meat and women baked as well as they could, parting with enough of their precious provisions to provide several small cakes. A few of the women even deigned to smile in Toni and Fannie’s direction. “You see?” Toni said brightly. “All we have to do is give them a little time. Once they get to know me, they’ll see I’ve truly changed my life forever.”

  Fannie knew Toni was most likely in for heartbreak but didn’t want to spoil her good mood, so for once she kept her opinion to herself.

  Fannie, dressed in the blue gown she had sworn she was not going to wear, hung toward the back of the gathering as the members of the wagon train watched and listened to the Reverend Cal Smith join four couples in holy matrimony, Edna Cooper and Jason Stewart among them.

  The ceremony wasn’t the part of the day she’d been looking forward to. Marriage was for foolish women who didn’t know any better, and no matter how rosy Toni tried to paint the institution, Fannie wasn’t going to be duped into believing a word of it. Marriage was for men. Plain and simple. Women were slaves during the day and at their husband’s mercy at night. And she’d never walk down the aisle short of kicking and screaming. At least that’s what she told herself as she fought back images of herself dressed in the bride’s gown of white, with a wreath of daisies crowning her head like a halo and Blake standing proudly at her side promising to take care of her until death parted them.

  She sighed louder than she had intended and nearly fainted in horror as her gaze fell upon Blake’s knowing grin not three feet in front of her. She would have run away, but shouts of laughter and clapping vibrated the air as the bride and groom became Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Luther. And she was shoved back and forth as well-wishers made their way toward the couple to congratulate them.

  Soon, the moment she had dreaded was upon her, and she stood face-to-face, alone with Blake. She’d avoided him for two weeks. It hadn’t been hard to do, as immersed in work as she’d been. But now he stood in front of her, staring down from his six-foot-tal
l height, eclipsing her easily. “You-uh-got a haircut,” she said, then felt like an idiot.

  “Sadie did it.”

  “She did a fine job.” Why was Blake suddenly giving her a moment of small talk? Why was he treating her like he wanted to be around her?

  “Good. I figured she would.”

  Blake seemed just as uncomfortable as Fannie. He had obviously called a truce for the sake of the brides and grooms, so Fannie decided to let him off the hook. “Well, I suppose I’ll go help the women with food.” She couldn’t resist a grin. “We’ve cooked that cow Mr. Markus finally got fed up with.” The animal had run away six times in as many weeks, and his owner had decided to shoot it and offer a feast for the happy couples’ celebrations. The gift was much appreciated for more than one reason. The mischievous animal had broken through the wagons and caused damage each time, and everyone’s mouth watered for the roasted meat, of which there would be plenty to go around. Fannie had her own reason for wanting the cow dead after it had almost gotten Kip killed.

  “Wait, Fannie.”

  A worried frown creased his brow, and Fannie braced herself for a new fight. “Yes?”

  His brown eyes searched her face intently. Fannie drew a breath and held it. What was he thinking? This didn’t seem like the same old fight. This was…different.

  “Blake?”

  “I was just wondering, uh, if you would do me the honor of a dance?”

  Fannie’s eyes grew wide. She slapped her palm to her flushed cheek. “I-I don’t think the dancing is starting until after supper.”

  His own face grew pink. “I meant would you save me one?”

  “A dance?”

  He scowled. “Well, what do you think I meant? Of course a dance.”

  “Well, fine, Blake Tanner,” she said, raising her voice to match his. “You don’t have to get all grouchy about it.”

  “Fine,” he growled back. “I’ll see you when it’s time for our dance.”