On the Fence (Chance City Series Book Two)

by Robin Deeter

  Rich blue drapes hung over the windows and a huge woven rug in blue and gold covered most of the gleaming wooden floor. It seemed a strange place for people with Indian heritage to live, Brock mused. David and Bonnie rose from their chairs.

  “Hello, David and Bonnie,” Brock said. “How are you?”

  “Confused,” David shot back. “Did I hear you say something about making restitution?”

  Daniel’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. “Pa can hear the grass grow.”

  “That’s right. I’ve come to make restitution to your family,” Brock said.

  Bonnie was as perplexed as David. “For what?”

  “Well, first off for the way that I’ve treated you in the past and also for the way I spoke about you on New Year’s Eve.” He looked at Daniel. “I’m also sorry for hitting you, but you had it coming and you know why.”

  Daniel’s nostrils flared in annoyance, but he couldn’t deny that Brock’s remark was true. He owned up to it. “Yeah, I did.”

  Brock gave him a curt nod. Reaching into his sack, Brock pulled out a fine knife in an intricately carved leather scabbard, which he handed to Daniel.

  “That one is yours and this one is for Sly,” Brock said, giving him a second knife.

  Daniel was impressed by the quality of the weapons and gave Brock a surprised look.

  “Those are from my personal collection,” Brock said.

  “I can’t take these,” Daniel said.

  Brock wouldn’t take them back. “I thought it was offensive to refuse gifts of restitution?”

  “It is,” David said. “This is strange for us because we’ve never had anyone pay restitution to us before.”

  Brock nodded. “I’m sure they haven’t, but they should. I want you to know that I’m doing this out of respect and with a sincere heart, not because I’m poking fun at you.”

  Bonnie said, “We can see that, Brock.”

  “Good.”

  “What’s going on?”

  The quiet voice behind Brock made him jump. He’d never heard Sly approach. The laughter in Daniel’s eyes said that he’d seen Brock’s reaction. Sly came out from behind Brock to stand by his brother.

  Bonnie said, “Brock is here to pay restitution to us.”

  Sly lifted an eyebrow but didn’t comment further.

  Daniel handed him the knife Brock had brought for him. “This is your gift.”

  Sly looked over the scabbard and took the knife out of it, testing its balance and the blade before sheathing it again. “It’s a fine knife. Thank you.”

  Brock smiled. “You have better manners than your brother. He tried to give it back.”

  Daniel scowled at him while David and Bonnie chuckled and Sly smiled a little.

  Moving over to Bonnie, Brock gave her a bottle of French perfume and fine pair of silk gloves. “I didn’t think you’d like a knife so I figured those would be better gifts for you.”

  Bonnie sniffed the perfume. “Both gifts are lovely. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Brock had to steady his nerves as he looked at David. “I have a knife for you, too, but it means more to me than all of my other ones combined. Since you’re the head of this family, I felt that it should go to you.”

  He pulled the knife out of his sack and said, “This was my grandfather’s hunting knife. He had it all his life and I can only imagine how many deer and other animals he field dressed with it. Not to mention a lot of other uses he had for it. He gave it to Pa to give to me when I was old enough to appreciate it.

  “I’ve used it a lot myself, so there’s a lot of power in this knife from hunters. I want you to have it so that you know that my apology for my past actions and words against your family is sincere. Please accept this final gift of restitution.”

  All of the Lone Wolfs knew what it cost Brock to give David such a beloved possession. It wasn’t something done lightly and even though they saw the shimmer of tears in Brock’s eyes, he was resolute in his decision to give it to them.

  Reverently, David took the knife. The leather scabbard was indeed old and worn, as was the knife handle. David took the knife from the scabbard and found the blade shiny and very sharp. He could almost feel the power in the weapon. He put it away and rested a hand on Brock’s shoulder.

  “It is a good gift, worthy of a chief. Thank you.”

  Brock cleared his throat. “You’re welcome. Now, I’ve also come about something else. I need your help…”

  *****

  Sitting in the parlor, Daphne stared at the book she’d been trying to read. She couldn’t concentrate on it, however. It was almost nine o’clock and she was starting to give up hope that Brock was coming. Cy was home and had said that they’d been able to leave on time, so unless something else had come up, Brock should be able to make it.

  She snapped the book closed and sat it on the sofa beside her. Cy and Leigh were over at Johnny’s bunkhouse, going over some of the plans for their house. Cuddles laid on one of the chairs and Buttons was outside somewhere. Burt lie asleep on the floor in front of the fireplace, but the other two dogs had gone with Cy.

  Looking around the parlor, she felt lonely and imagined that this was how it would be once Leigh and Cy moved out if things didn’t work out between her and Brock. She didn’t want to entertain that possibility in the slightest. What would she do with herself once her work was done? They would still come for meals sometimes, but it wouldn’t be the same. She’d never lived by herself and she didn’t want to, either.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a flute. It stopped and she thought that she’d been hearing things at first. It started again and she rose from the sofa, hurrying out to the kitchen. Yes, someone was playing an Indian flute—badly. Horribly, in fact.

  Snatching her coat, she quickly donned it and went outside. Someone sat cross-legged a little way from the house. It was dark, but she thought they wore buckskin clothing. Daphne couldn’t figure out who it could be. Then she noticed that a horse was tethered to the porch railing.

  “What on Earth is going on?”

  Suddenly it hit her. Someone was performing the traditional method of courting an Indian maiden. He’d brought a horse as a gift and was playing the flute to draw her out of the house to listen. She was definitely listening, but the poor playing was enough to make one’s ears bleed.

  Who was courting her? It came to her, but she rejected it. It can’t be Brock. He doesn’t play flute or wear buckskin. There was only one way to find out. Stepping off the porch, she strode towards the flute player.

  “Brock? Is that you?” she called out.

  The flute playing stopped. “Yeah, it’s me. Thank God you stopped me. I was giving myself a headache.”

  She laughed. “You’re not the only one. What are you doing?”

  He got up and grinned at her. “I’m serenading my maiden. Well, courting you, anyway. I don’t count all that screeching as serenading.”

  He looked both virile and awkward in the buckskin leggings, breechcloth and tunic. He certainly filled them out well, but his short blond hair just didn’t go with the outfit. Laughter erupted from her and she was helpless to stop it.

  Brock pretended to be offended at first, but he couldn’t keep a straight face, either. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her forehead and laughed with her. When they sobered, he cupped her face.

  “Honey, I’m so sorry about what I said, but it just came out all wrong. I did this so that you could see that I respect your Comanche heritage and that it doesn’t bother me anymore. I also made restitution with your cousins and David and Bonnie to show just how serious I am about it.”

  Daphne’s wounded heart began healing as he spoke. “So you brought me a horse?”

  “Yeah. A brave is supposed to bring gifts for his maiden, so I did. That’s not just any horse, though. She’s one of your uncle’s Arabian mares.”

  She jerked a little. “You bought a horse from Uncle David? That’s an expensive horse
, Brock.”

  “You’re worth more than any amount of money, Daphne. I also paid restitution to your family for all of the horrible things I’ve said about them and the awful way I’ve treated them and other Indians in the past. I needed to show them that I no longer harbor any ill will toward them. I want peace between us so that nothing comes in between me and you,” he explained.

  All of the things that Brock had done restored her faith in him and she knew that he meant every word.

  She tenderly laid a hand on his cheek. “I appreciate everything you’ve done so much. I can’t believe you did it.”

  “Daphne, you’re the most important person in my life. I love you more than I ever imagined I would. I want to marry you, have a family, and grow old with you. Building that tipi was the best thing I could’ve done. Now I understand why your people love them so much and I learned a lot from Cotton and you.

  “I see now that just like any other race, there are good and bad Indians. Your family is nothing like the Indians that killed Grandpa. You’re good people and you deserve to be treated with respect and decency.”

  Even in the dark she could read the sincerity in his expression. “Thank you, Brock. I’m so relieved to hear you say that. I worried that you’d regret marrying me and be angry when I taught our children about my heritage. I shouldn’t have doubted you, but hearing you say these things is very reassuring.”

  Brock hugged her. “I understand. It just came out all wrong that night. I’m so sorry that I hurt you. I promise to never do that again. Will you forgive me and still marry me?”

  Joy surged through Daphne and her eyes filled with tears. “On one condition.”

  “Which is?”

  An impish smile curved her lips. “That you never play flute again.”

  Brock burst into laughter and she joined in.

  Sobering, he said, “I promise not to play it again. I love you, honey.”

  “I love you, too.”

  The light kiss he gave her then quickly turned urgent, his arms tightening around her. Her soft lips and images of what lie beneath her coat and clothing made him burn with desire.

  Pressing against him, Daphne gave herself up to the passion he stirred in her. His lips were warm and supple, his kiss demanding. Her hunger for him intensified. She pushed against his chest and pulled back from him.

  “Let’s go to our love tipi. I’ve missed you so much and I want to make love with you.”

  Her slightly husky voice and her heated gaze made his blood run even hotter through his body. “What about your family? They’ll know.”

  Daphne shook her head. “I don’t care. I need to be with you. In Comanche culture, we would just be eloping.”

  The idea of them eloping made him grin. “Ok. Let’s go.”

  He took her hand and they jogged around the barn, hurrying along the path that led to their love tipi. Their happiness grew with each step as they ran through the night, their hearts filled with a love that would survive and doubts or hardships that came their way.

  Epilogue

  Daphne sat calmly in the church office, waiting for Cy to collect her and her bridesmaids when it was time for the ceremony to begin. Her serenity came from her certainty that Brock was the man she’d always been meant to marry. The Great Spirit had chosen him for her and now they were about to be forever joined.

  Leigh sat down by Daphne and took her hand. “I’m so happy for you and Brock. You belong together.”

  Squeezing Leigh’s hand, Daphne said, “I owe it to you. If you hadn’t pushed me to confront him, I wouldn’t be sitting here, getting ready to marry him. Thank you.”

  “Nah. I might have started the ball rolling, but you took it from there. I’m glad you worked things out.”

  “Me, too.”

  Brock’s sister, Nora, said, “He’s a handful to live with. Consider yourself warned. He’s cranky in the morning and he likes to play pranks.”

  “I think I’ll be able to handle him,” Daphne said. “I have ways of keeping him in line.”

  Leigh chuckled. “I’ll just bet you do.”

  Daphne blushed. “Shut up. It’s going to be so strange when you and Cy move out. I’m going to miss you.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll still see a lot of us. I’ll be working every day like normal, so we’ll still have lunch together. Besides, I’m sure you and Brock will enjoy having the house to yourself,” Leigh said, winking.

  Nora giggled. “Who knows what you’ll get up to.”

  “Stop it, you two,” Daphne said, turning a darker shade of pink.

  “You’re so lucky,” Nora said. “I hope I meet someone soon.”

  Leigh said, “I’m sure you will. There are a bunch of eligible bachelors around, you know.”

  Nora frowned a little. “I know, but none of them seem to be interested in me. Of course, I’m so shy that I can’t hardly talk around them.”

  Daphne asked, “Is there anyone in particular you’re interested in?”

  Nora shook her head.

  Leigh gave her a kind smile. “Don’t get discouraged. It’ll happen.”

  “She’s right. And sometimes, you just have to take matters into your own hands and make it happen. So don’t give in to your shyness. You’re a beautiful young woman and someday soon, you’ll find the man of your dreams,” Daphne said.

  Nora brightened. “Do you think so?”

  “Absolutely,” Leigh said.

  Cy arrived at that point, ending the conversation.

  “You look beautiful, Daphne,” he said, taking in her winter white satin gown. “I know I’m not your father, but I don’t want to give you away.”

  His statement brought tears to Daphne’s eyes. “Quit saying things like that! I don’t want to bawl and have red eyes.”

  Cy laughed and lightly embraced her. “Sorry, sis, but I mean it.”

  “I’ll always be your sister. That isn’t changing.”

  Nora said, “And just think, you get to live with my brother now.”

  Cy’s expression immediately darkened. “You just had to remind me, didn’t you?”

  Nora laughed. “I couldn’t resist.”

  Cy heaved a sigh. “Well, are you ready to go get married?”

  Daphne bounced a little. “Yes!”

  Cy gave her his arm. “Let’s go then.”

  *****

  “I can’t believe Pastor Clem let Ollie in here,” Aaron remarked as he stood up at the altar with Brock and Wheels.

  Brock said, “I paid him a little extra. I love Ollie and I wanted him to be here.”

  Wheels grinned. “Almost everyone loves Ollie. I hope he behaves for Nora. Although, she does have a way with him.”

  Aaron nodded. “That she does.” Patting Wheels’ shoulder, he said, “You clean up pretty good, Wheels.”

  Wheels ran a hand over his tuxedo jacket. “Thanks. I do what I can.”

  Brock said, “Yeah. You cut your hair and everything. I’m honored that you would go to all that trouble for our wedding.”

  Wheels glared at him. “Shut up. I just get so busy that I forget to get it cut.”

  “Now, now, gentlemen,” Aaron said. “It looks like things are going to start.”

  The organist sat down at his instrument and began the pretty piece of classical music that Daphne had picked out. Pastor Clem took his place at the altar.

  At the entrance to the sanctuary, Nora bent down to pet Ollie, who looked handsome in his little tuxedo. She handed him the little pillow to which the wedding bands were affixed.

  “Take to Daddy,” she said. “Go. Take to Daddy.”

  Ollie nodded and grunted before he took off down the aisle. He spotted Vern and almost got off track, but then Wheels whistled for him and he bounded the rest of the way, hopping up on Wheels’ lap. The congregation chuckled at Ollie’s good performance.

  Wheels took the rings from Ollie and handed them to Aaron. He praised the monkey and made him sit down and remain quiet. The look of dist
aste on Pastor Clem’s face made Wheels grin, but he pretended that he was smiling at Ollie so that he didn’t offend the clergyman.

  Nora walked to the altar, beautiful in her pale lavender gown. Leigh followed her and Cy’s eyes never left his wife as she made her way up front. He loved her more every day and he knew how blessed he was to have found her. Then he turned to Daphne.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Ready.”

  Cy led her down the aisle, proud to be standing in for their father and wishing that their parents could be there. He put that out of his mind, concentrating on the joyful occasion instead.

  Daphne couldn’t tear her gaze from Brock. He was freshly shaven and his tux fit him to perfection. His shoulders looked even broader and his impossibly blue eyes were filled with love.

  Watching Daphne come down the aisle to him, Brock felt as though his heart had grown too full with love to fit inside his chest. Her high-necked, long sleeved dress molded to her curves and her mahogany hair, which she’d let grow out somewhat, had been secured back with combs. Nora had woven baby’s breath through the dark tresses, and the effect gave Daphne an ethereal appearance.

  His bride arrived at the altar and Pastor Clem asked, “Who gives this woman to be married?”

  Cy proudly said, “I do.”

  For a few seconds, he hesitated to let Brock take her hand, giving the deputy a hard glare that spoke volumes. Brock just smiled a little and took Daphne’s hand, which Cy slowly relinquished. Daphne rolled her eyes at them and Brock chuckled. Cy grinned and went to sit with Johnny.

  Their vow exchange was filled with laughter thanks to Ollie, who chirruped after almost everything Pastor Clem said. Wheels finally tucked him under his tuxedo jacket, a trick that always quieted Ollie. Brock and Daphne didn’t mind, however, so filled with happiness that the laughter felt appropriate to them.

  Tears stung Brock’s eyes as he said, “With this ring, I thee wed.” Sliding Daphne’s ring on her finger gave him such pride that he couldn’t quite contain it and a couple of tears escaped his eyes.