Teton Romance Trilogy Bundle: Includes Yellowstone Proposal (Short Story)

by Peggy L Henderson

  If he hadn’t shown up, Preston would have violated her in the worst way possible. Joseph was sure of that. That bastard deserved more than a broken nose. The only thing that stopped him from doing more damage to that son of a bitch was Sophie’s pleas for him to stop. Why she defended that scum was a mystery to him. His father had taught both him and his brother, Lucas that a woman was to be respected, and never hit or otherwise mistreated. He didn’t have a single memory of his father even so much as raising his voice to his mother. There’d been plenty of arguments and differences of opinion between his parents, but they shared a deep love and admiration for each other.

  Joseph gave his horse a final pat on the neck, then left the stall. Coming to Boston had obviously been a big mistake. It was too late in the day to leave the city. He’d get an early start in the morning. The sooner he was away from here, the better. He wasn’t going back to that fancy house, either. After what happened this afternoon, he had most likely worn out his welcome. Miss High and Mighty Society Princess wanted nothing to do with him or knowing more about where she came from.

  Joseph scoffed. Hell, she wouldn’t last a day in the wilderness. The pampered way she’d been raised had spoiled her for the kind of life she would have had among her mother’s people. He couldn’t possibly present her to Two Bears looking and acting like the white woman she so obviously chose to be.

  He cursed again and climbed the ladder to the hayloft. What he needed was a good night’s sleep. He unbuckled the belt at his waist, and dropped it at his feet, then pulled his cotton shirt off over his head. Spreading out his bedroll over a pile of straw, he eased himself onto his back. With both hands clasped behind his head, he stared up at the wooden rafters. Daylight still streamed through the cracks in the walls, and a slight breeze made the countless spider webs hanging from the ceiling sway lazily back and forth.

  He closed his eyes, wishing for sleep to come. Joseph focused on the relaxing sound of horses rustling in their stalls below. Outside, people chattered as they went about their late afternoon business, and the constant clopping of hooves on the cobblestone and the creaking of buggy wheels were a testament to the hectic life in the city. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry.

  A sudden yearning for the mountains that had been his home all his life seeped through him. He missed the crisp morning air, the smell of sage and pine, and the quiet that surrounded the valley at the base of the mountain range the Indians called the teewinots. Joseph imagined hearing the screech of an eagle as it soared high above the clouds and the bugle of a bull elk in an attempt to drown out the harsh grating sounds of the city.

  His efforts were hindered by the prattle of two women arguing. Joseph raised his head. One of the voices sounded familiar, and a jolt of recognition hit him. His heart rate increased. Sophie? What was she doing in this part of town? Joseph tuned out the other sounds and focused on the women’s voices. Judging by the increase in volume, they were headed for the livery.

  “I still can’t believe you’d want to come here, Miss Sophia. Of all your foolish schemes in the past, this one takes the cake. A lady doesn’t belong in this shady neighborhood. I should have informed your father of this.”

  Joseph raised his upper body off the blanket and sat up. The woman sounded almost like his mother when she used to scold him as a child. Yancey wasn’t married, and she’d addressed Sophie formally, so she couldn’t be a family member.

  “We’ve been over this already, Lucy,” Sophie said, a note of exasperation in her voice. “I have to find Mr. Walker.”

  Joseph’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at hearing her mention his name. He couldn’t think of one good reason why she’d be looking for him. The older-sounding woman huffed audibly.

  “I don’t like that man. He’s dirty, and looks like a savage.”

  “I don’t like him much either, but I need to speak to him.”

  The corners of Joseph’s lips raised in a grin. Yeah, she definitely hadn’t changed her mind about him.

  “What will Mr. Yancey say?” the woman raised her voice. “Or Mr. Preston? You have his reputation to consider now, too.”

  Sophie laughed. “Lucy, you have been trying to dissuade me from coming here since we left Beacon Hill. Besides, I don’t give a . . . a damn about Andrew’s reputation.”

  The woman named Lucy gasped. “Miss Sophia! Watch your language. Your father raised you better than that. What has come over you all of a sudden? Ever since that westerner showed up, you’ve not acted yourself. If you were my daughter, I’d wash your mouth out with soap.”

  Joseph chuckled. He left his makeshift bed and climbed down the ladder. It was time to satisfy his curiosity about why Sophie wanted to see him. No sooner had he stepped foot on solid ground, when the barn door creaked open. Sunlight streamed into the dim interior.

  “Mr. Walker? Are you in here?” Sophie called, and Joseph turned toward the door. The light cast the two women in shadow, but Sophie’s slight form was easy to distinguish from her much wider companion. Another loud gasp escaped the older woman’s mouth, and she quickly maneuvered herself in front of Sophie.

  “Isn’t this a surprise?” Joseph asked, and strode casually toward his visitors, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his breeches. His horse neighed a greeting from its stall as he passed by. “Your friend is right, Sophie. You shouldn’t be in this part of town.” He ignored the disapproving glare the older woman shot at him.

  Sophie moved out from behind her companion, and her eyes widened. Her gaze lingered on his bare torso before her chin snapped up and she made eye contact with him, fidgeting with her gloved hands in front of her. She wore a different dress than the flowery one she’d had on this afternoon. The high-collared long-sleeved green garb she wore looked very unbecoming on her. Her hair was pulled back and pinned up behind her head, and she wore a frilly hat to match the dress. If the intended look of her outfit was to make her appear older and less attractive, it fell short by a mile.

  “Lucy, would you please wait outside by the carriage? I have something I wish to discuss with Mr. Walker.” She spoke without taking her eyes off of him. The slight hitch in her voice didn’t go unnoticed. Joseph gave her credit for attempting to sound confident.

  Lucy’s jaw dropped open, and her glare toward him turned menacing. With a hand on her wide hip, she advanced on him like a ruffled turkey.

  “I will be right outside this barn, Mr. Walker,” she said sternly. “Just as soon as you make yourself more presentable to be in the company of a lady.” She stared point blank at his nude chest.

  Joseph grinned, and ran his hand along the back of his neck. He shot a look over the woman’s shoulder toward Sophie, who quickly lowered her gaze to the ground.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Why don’t you two wait outside, and I’ll be out shortly. Then the . . . lady can tell me why she’s here, and her reputation won’t be sullied for being in the barn alone with me.”

  Tight-lipped, Lucy nodded and turned, her grey skirts swished around her legs. She grabbed hold of Sophie’s arm and pushed her toward the barn door. Sophie’s eyes lingered on his torso for a moment before she turned, and Joseph couldn’t help but grin some more. Shaking his head, he headed toward the ladder to the hayloft to retrieve his shirt, eager to find out what she wanted to talk to him about.

  ****

  Joseph stepped outside the barn, and glanced around the livery yard. Hansen, the livery owner, was nowhere to be seen. More than likely he’d gone to the tavern for an early nightcap. A fancy black rig with a matching team of bay horses stood parked just beyond the corral. The driver stood by his team, and Sophie and her companion conversed animatedly near the back. Lucy had one hand on her hip, wagging a finger at Sophie’s face. Her arm shot in the direction of the barn.

  Inhaling a deep breath, Joseph strapped his belt around his waist and headed toward the two women. Lucy’s back straightened when she spotted him, and she cut short whatever else she was about to say to Sophie.

 
; “I hope I’m decent enough now to be in the company of you two ladies,” he said with a grin, and walked up to them. Lucy eyed him critically.

  “Your appearance could hardly be considered decent, Mr. Walker,” Lucy answered in disapproval. “But for some ridiculous reason Miss Yancey feels a need to speak with you.”

  “Well, let’s hear it, then.” His eyebrows raised expectantly. Sophie stood by quietly. It seemed she had lost the confidence she tried to show earlier.

  “I’d prefer to talk with you in private,” she said, finally meeting his gaze. “Could we take a walk?”

  Joseph flashed a smug smile at Lucy, then stepped up and offered his arm to Sophie. “Right this way, Princess,” he said, and motioned toward the street. Sophie clasped her hands in front of her, and stepped around him.

  “I’ll only be a few minutes, Lucy,” she called to the older woman.

  “The nerve of that man,” Lucy huffed under her breath, and glared at him when he followed Sophie.

  Joseph caught up to her after two long strides, and fell in step beside her. Her spine was as stiff as it had been this afternoon when she sat on his horse. She held her chin high and looked straight ahead.

  “All right. I’m dying to know what you want to talk to me about,” he said after they’d walked well past the livery. The mercantile owner pulled the last of his produce carts into his shop to close up for the evening. Two women emerged from the shop, a look of surprise and confusion, and possibly disapproval on their faces as they passed by. Sophie walked past them with the haughty grace of a lady from a higher social standing than the other two women, but Joseph clearly recognized the insecure look on her face. Whether she was uncomfortable in his presence or because of something else, he didn’t know.

  Once out of earshot of the two women, she stopped and faced him. She raised her head to look up at him. Uncertainty mixed with a hint of fear passed through her eyes.

  “First, I would like to apologize for my behavior this afternoon,” she said. “I’m sorry for sounding so ungrateful to you for coming to my aid, and I wish to thank you.”

  An apology was the last thing he expected. Joseph’s forehead wrinkled, and he leaned toward her. She had to have an ulterior motive for her words.

  “Did Andrew accept your apology?” he asked. He couldn’t keep the contempt out of his voice.

  Sophie dropped her gaze. She studied her hands that she held clasped firmly in front of her. Her shoulders slumped, and she looked tiny and fragile all of a sudden.

  “I didn’t apologize to him.” She barely whispered the words. The hurt in her voice was unmistakable. Joseph fought the urge to reach his hand out and touch her arm. Abruptly, she raised her chin and her back straightened again. She looked directly at him, her brown eyes reaching out to him.

  “Tell me about my parents. My real parents.”

  Joseph concealed his astonishment at her words. She’d successfully surprised him a third time in less than a few minutes. He drew his eyebrows together.

  “Why the change of heart?” he asked. There had to be a reason that she suddenly wanted to know about her family. He reached for her arm and pulled her to the side when a man rushed past them. He tipped his bowler hat in thanks and kept going. Sophie’s arm tensed beneath his touch, and he loosened his grip. The silk fabric of her dress did little to curb the sudden jolt of adrenaline that raced through him, and he dropped his hand. The subtle floral fragrance he’d come to associate with her filled his senses. A tingling sensation remained in his fingers, and he clenched his hand to dispel the feeling.

  “I told you. I’m sorry for the way I acted this afternoon. Perhaps I’m curious.” She spoke slowly, obviously choosing her words carefully, and averted her eyes. If only he could decipher what she wasn’t saying. For now, he’d play along.

  “I have faint memories of your ma and pa, and most of what I know are things my father told me.”

  “You knew my parents?” she asked, and raised her head. “When was I taken from them?”

  Joseph hesitated. “Sophie, your parents were murdered by a man who wanted revenge. Your pa was a French fur trapper named Laurent Berard. Your mother’s name was Whispering Waters. She was the daughter of a Bannock chief.” He paused to let his words sink in. She didn’t respond, so he continued. “Your pa asked Yan . . . your father to take you to safety so Sabin couldn’t kill you, too. Raising you as his own daughter and giving you his name was his way of keeping his promise to Laurent.”

  Joseph gauged her for a reaction. Tears shimmered in her eyes. Real tears, not the ones a woman turned on and off at will. She pulled a lace handkerchief from the satchel hanging from her wrist, and dabbed at her eyes. She sniffled, then raised her chin.

  “I would like to take you up on your offer, Mr. Walker,” she said firmly.

  A renewed wave of adrenaline hit him at the meaning of her words. Joseph laughed uneasily. “You’re saying you want to come with me and meet your grandfather?”

  “Yes, that’s what I want.” Her response was immediate.

  Joseph shook his head and ran a hand over his face. A wave of dread washed over him. This was a bad idea. He’d already determined that earlier. “I don’t think you realize what you’d be getting yourself into.”

  Sophie took a step back. Her forehead wrinkled, and a spark of anger shot from her eyes. “This morning you were adamant that I should go with you. You said this is why you came here.”

  “I know a whole lot more about you now than I did this morning,” Joseph said slowly. “And I’ve come to think that you wouldn’t last a day away from the city, out in open country.”

  Sophie’s eyes widened, her gaze flicking up at him. Her face tightened, and her hands balled into fists in front of her. “That is a harsh conclusion to draw. You know nothing about me,” she argued, her voice raised. “Why would you travel all this way only to change your mind now?”

  Joseph had no intention of lying to her. “Quite honestly, I wasn’t expecting to find a pampered and spoiled white girl.”

  Sophie’s jaw dropped. Her eyes narrowed, and her cheeks reddened. Joseph suppressed a grin. She looked ready to explode. Clearly, no one had ever spoken to her this directly before, and she was at a loss for words.

  “Let me make this perfectly clear, Princess.” He stepped closer, and gave her a hard stare. “Traveling through the wilderness isn’t some Sunday ride in the park. I don’t think you realize what you’d be getting yourself into, and I have no intention of playing nursemaid to a rich little white girl who can’t pull her own weight.”

  Her sudden scornful laughter startled him. A woman maneuvered past them, pulling a screaming little boy behind her. Sophie kept laughing.

  “Maybe we should go somewhere else and finish this discussion,” Joseph suggested, and grabbed hold of her arm again. She pulled back, and her facial muscles hardened. Her brown eyes held no hint of warmth, and she glared at him with an intensity that could almost be defined as hatred. For a fleeting second, he caught a glimpse of the woman she might have been had she grown up in an Indian village or a remote cabin in the wilderness. Had he drawn the wrong conclusion about her after all? There was nothing frilly or soft about her at the moment. Before him stood a woman who, with the right teaching, could stand up to anything, and Joseph’s pulse quickened.

  “Mr. Walker,” she said slowly, her tone low. “A couple of hours ago I was referred to as a squaw. Now you’re calling me a white girl. All my life I’ve struggled to fit in with Boston’s elite, not because of my upbringing or poor social manners, but because of the color of my skin. The only reason I have been tolerated is because of my father’s wealth. Perhaps it’s time I stopped denying my tainted bloodlines, and learned where I came from.” She stood her ground and glared at him, her hands on her hips.

  The impact of her words hit harder than a punch to his gut. Joseph clenched his jaw and cursed under his breath.

  “That bast . . . Preston called you a squaw?” He forced the
question from his mouth.

  Sophie blinked back fresh tears. Her words had been spoken in cold anger, but she couldn’t hide the hurt she obviously tried to suppress. Joseph’s hands itched to wrap around Andrew Preston’s neck.

  She inhaled a deep breath. “I’ve already asked James to send someone with a message to Andrew that I no longer wish to marry him. I would like the opportunity to meet my grandfather.”

  Joseph’s pulse rang in his ears at her words that she called off her engagement. Not that it mattered to him, but she was better off without that bastard. He should be glad she’d changed her mind and was willing to go with him and meet Two Bears. It’s what he came to Boston for, after all. At least he wouldn’t have to explain to the old chief why he returned without his granddaughter. With any luck, he could teach her a few of the Bannock customs and language over the next few weeks so she’d be a bit more presentable.

  The thought of bringing her into the wilderness gave him a decidedly uneasy feeling. For weeks, he would be saddled with a woman who didn’t know a life outside of a Boston tea parlor, but hadn’t he just seen a side of her that he didn’t believe existed several hours ago? That she came to seek him out showed a certain spunk and determination which only fueled the irrational attraction he felt for her. Joseph cursed silently. The journey home with her in tow might just be the most difficult thing he’d ever face.

  Chapter Six

  Sophia slipped into her morning gown, her fingers working the many buttons up the front, then tied the satin rope-like sash around her waist. She massaged at her sore scalp. The many pins that held up her hair the previous day had probably left several bruises in her skin. No matter that she wore her hair up every single day in the latest styles, her scalp would never be accustomed to it. Her dark locks tumbled down her back. Exhaling a slow breath of air, she took a seat in front of her vanity mirror and studied her own features.