She still felt guilty that he took a beating to help her. His dark bruises had faded to a greenish yellow, and he was getting around well again, but it was her fault he’d been injured.
“You all right?” Jim looked down at her with warm eyes.
She nodded, knowing she had to pull herself out of her mood. Having grown up in a loving family, he wouldn’t understand her vital need to hold close those she loved.
Sasha blinked. Did she love Jim?
She gazed up at him. Never having been in love before, how could she know? Turning, she started up the stairs. She needed to get away before he figured out what was wrong. “I’m. . .uh. . .going upstairs to decide what paint and wallpaper I need up there.”
“You want help?”
She had to smile at that and looked backed over her shoulder. “I thought you didn’t know anything about decorating.”
“Aw, you’re right. Guess I’ll go see what Dewey’s up to.”
She watched him go out the door and past the window in the entryway. Her heart went with him. How was she supposed to work and eat with him every day without revealing her growing attraction?
Twelve
The wagon dipped into a deep rut in the road, knocking Sasha’s shoulder against her uncle’s. He slapped the reins on the horses’ backs, and the animals plodded forward, bringing the wagon back on level ground.
Sasha tightened her grasp on the edge of the seat and thought back to the day she’d been in town, dressed in her costume. If she didn’t do something, those men she’d overheard would just keep on swindling the landowners. But who could she trust with the information?
Dewey glanced at her. “Something wrong?”
She nibbled on her lip, wondering how much to tell him. He wouldn’t approve of her traipsing around dressed as an old woman and sorting through people’s garbage.
“A two-day old stew is mighty good, but stewing over your problems just makes them seem bigger than they are. Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”
Sasha heaved a sigh and plunged forward. “When I was in town the other day, I overheard some men talking about how Chamber Oil was cheating Indians.”
Dewey exhaled a sigh and looked away. After a few moments, he turned back to face her. “I’m aware of their trickery. I know how they dealt with Kizzie. I offered to help her, but the woman had an independent streak as wide as the Arkansas River. She earned a wagonload of money with her oil leases, but it was only a fraction of what she should have made.” His eyes darkened with anger. “I have proof she was cheated.”
“Really? Can’t you do anything about it?”
He shook his head. “Not now. Too late.”
“It’s never too late to right a wrong.”
Dewey’s kind eyes looked small against his leathery face. “I don’t need the money—you know that. I wouldn’t mind helping my people to keep them from being cheated though, but I don’t know who to trust. The oilmen all seem to be eating from the same bean pot.”
“Surely they aren’t all bad.”
“No, you’re right.” Dewey shook his head. “But I don’t know who I can trust, so I just keep the information to myself. Some landowners have been killed because they refused to sign a lease or wanted more money. I don’t need that kind of trouble.”
They pulled into Keaton a short while later, and Dewey stopped the wagon under a tree near the train depot. He clambered to the ground, then helped her down.
“I reckon you’ve got more shopping to do.” Dewey smiled. “I know you haven’t bought everything we need for that big house yet.”
“No, I have a long way to go before I’m done.” She studied her uncle for a moment. “Are you sure I’m not spending too much money?”
Smiling, he shook his head. “No, Jim told me how thrifty you’re being. I’m proud of you, Sasha. From what he’s said, you’re buying quality goods but also being frugal.”
“Thank you. I’m trying not to spend any more than we need to.” Her chest warmed with pride. She’d rarely received such a heartwarming compliment.
“You’re doing fine, and I don’t want you to worry about it.” He patted her shoulder, looking a tad embarrassed.
“Now, I need to see if any of that stuff you ordered has arrived.” He pulled out his pocket watch and looked at it. “How about if we meet up around half past noon for dinner at the diner?”
“That sounds fine.” As they parted, Sasha walked down the boardwalk toward the dressmaker’s shop. She hoped the lightweight, front-buttoned dresses she’d ordered were ready. Her New York gowns were too hot and impractical for daily living here.
She rounded the corner and plowed straight into a solid chest. If the man hadn’t grabbed her upper arms, she would have plummeted onto her backside. She peeked up to apologize and came face-to-face with—seeing him in person brought the name she hadn’t been able to recall a couple of days earlier to mind—Roman Loftus.
“Well, it’s a pleasure running into you, Miss Di Carlo.” His pearly white smile looked bright against his reddish brown skin. He lifted a derby hat and bowed.
Though embarrassed, she couldn’t help smiling at the way he worded his greeting. “Nice running into you, too, although I suppose I should apologize for not paying attention to where I was going.”
“No need, I assure you.” He waved his hand in the air. “Might I ask where you’re headed in such a hurry?”
Sasha’s cheeks warmed. “I. . .uh. . .was on my way to do some errands.”
“Would you mind if I accompany you? Normally women are perfectly safe in town, but if I were to escort you, then nobody would even consider bothering you.”
She preferred being alone, but if his company kept other men away, then maybe she should accept his offer. “Why, yes, Mr. Loftus, I would be happy for you to walk with me.”
He offered his arm. “Where to first?”
She slipped her arm through his, giving him a charming smile. “Why the dressmaker’s shop, of course.”
Mr. Loftus lifted his gaze to the sky and shook his head. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“You are free to withdraw your offer.”
He patted her arm. “No, no. To the dressmaker’s it is.”
They strolled along, and she considered how kind he seemed. Could she possibly ask his advice about what she’d overheard? He was an oilman, after all, and might be able to help her. He’d come to Uncle Dewey’s aid the other day. But was he trustworthy?
She ducked into the dressmaker’s shop, leaving him gladly waiting outside. She paid for the two dresses that were finished and made plans to return the next week for the final garment. As she exited the store, Mr. Loftus tugged at the package in her hand.
“Do allow me to carry this for you.” His amiable smile dissolved her objections, and she handed over the parcel.
“Where to now, Miss Di Carlo?”
“Surely you must have some place you need to be.”
“No, I have the next few hours free. There’s always paperwork to be done, but it can wait for a bit.”
They crossed the street, and Sasha pondered whether to confide in him or not. Two women stared at them as they passed in the road. Sasha glanced up at her escort, realizing again how handsome he was. His features, though clearly Indian, were finer than most, giving him a regal air, and he didn’t seem the least bit uncomfortable in her company, even though he must be full-blooded Creek.
In the mercantile, she placed an order for some linens from the Montgomery Ward catalog and purchased two sun bonnets like many of the women in town wore. All the while, she wrestled with whether to tell him about the dishonest oilmen or not.
Jim was the one she ought to be confiding in, and she could just imagine his scowl at seeing her on the arm of Roman Loftus. She pushed that thought aside. She needed someone familiar with oil companies and how they worked to help her.
As they exited the store, Mr. Loftus glanced down at her. His dark eyes shimmered with some em
otion she couldn’t decipher. Could he tell she was a half-breed? Would it matter to him?
“It’s well past the noon hour, Miss Di Carlo. Might you consider having lunch with me?”
“Oh my. I’m supposed to meet my uncle at the diner soon. Perhaps you could join us.”
He nodded, though she thought he would rather have her to himself. As they approached the diner, she saw Dewey waiting for her near the entrance. He smiled, then studied her escort.
“Afternoon, Mr. Hummingbird.” Roman Loftus tipped his hat.
“Mr. Loftus.” Dewey pressed his lips together and nodded, then turned to her. “I’m sorry, Sasha, but some of our order just arrived on the noon train. I need to stay at the depot to make sure everything gets unloaded off the train and into our wagon.”
She laid her hand on his arm. “It’s all right. Mr. Loftus asked me to dine with him. But you won’t get to eat.”
Dewey waved his hand in the air. “Just have Sue Ann make me a roast beef sandwich and bring it to the depot when you two are done. I should be ready to go by then.”
She nodded, and Dewey gave Roman a stern look before leaving. Did her uncle not approve of her escort?
They took their seats, placed an order, and then sat staring at each other. Maybe being with him would help her better understand her feelings for Jim. If she truly cared for Jim, then Mr. Loftus wouldn’t hold her interest. But here she was, and as hard as it was to admit, she was curious about the man across from her.
They made small talk for a time. All the while she was getting up her nerve to confide in him. Surely he could help. Soon their food would arrive, and then it would be too late. She leaned forward, and he copied her action.
“Mr. Loftus, I wonder if you might help me with a. . .uh. . . situation.”
His dark brows lifted. “Of course, I’d be happy to assist you any way I can.”
She looked around to make sure no one was paying them any attention, took a deep breath, and then plunged forward. “I know someone who overheard some men talking about Chamber Oil cheating Indians.”
He blinked and looked stunned at her abrupt confession. “This person actually heard this? I mean an actual confession that the oil company is swindling Indians?”
Sasha nodded. “Yes.”
“Would this person recognize these men if he saw them again?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t believe my friend got a good look at them.”
He leaned his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. “Then, unfortunately, there’s not much to be done, but I’ll ask around and see if I can find out anything. Sadly, many oilmen are unscrupulous, unlike my father and I, who strive to be upright and fair.”
“I see.” Disappointment flooded Sasha.
“I’m full-blooded Creek and don’t like seeing my people getting cheated.”
Sasha studied Mr. Loftus as she fiddled with the edge of the tablecloth. There was no doubting his heritage with his straight black hair, dark complexion, and high cheek bones. She no longer remembered why she hadn’t wanted to dine with him the other day. Could it be possible that Creeks, beside her uncle, wouldn’t be put off by her heritage?
He reached across the table and laid his hand on her forearm.
“Miss Di Carlo, I promise I’ll do my best to get to the bottom of this and see that the people involved are punished.”
❧
“Move it a little to the right.” Sasha watched Jim and a worker push the heavy dresser two inches closer to the bedroom window.
Jim brushed his forehead with his sleeve. “How’s that?”
She eyeballed the chest of drawers, deciding it looked perfectly centered between the window and the wall. “That’s fine. Thank you.”
“All right, we’ll bring up the bed frame next.” The men trudged into the hall and down the stairs.
Sasha wiped her hand over the walnut highboy dresser, then untied the sash that had held the attached swivel mirror steady during transport. She doubted her uncle had enough clothes to fill it, but at least he wouldn’t have to hang things on pegs anymore. The scent of fresh paint still lingered in the room, making her hope her uncle liked the soft blue color. She’d made him stay away until the room was completed, and now excitement and anxiety both swirled in her stomach.
She crossed the room and wiped off the top of the washstand. What she loved most about this small piece of furniture was that the enamel basin could be pulled out for use and pushed in and hidden under the wooden top when not needed. She tugged the basin out and pushed it in.
Jim backed into the room carrying the bed’s headboard. “You’re not playing with that washstand again, are you?”
Spinning around, she tried to wipe the guilty look off her face. “Just center that along the south wall.”
He flashed her a knowing smile, then focused on his job. Her insides tingled at his teasing look.
Several hours later, Sasha’s calves ached from climbing the stairs so many times. Her bedroom and her uncle’s were complete, and this would be their first night to sleep in the new house.
“I just don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep in such a big place.” Holding an armload of clothes, Dewey looked around his new bedroom. “It’s too nice for the likes of me.”
Sasha sidled up beside him as Jim came in carrying a wooden chair. “No, it’s not. There’s nothing fancy in here. Just basic walnut furniture, a quilt, and curtains.”
She pointed to the corner where the chair belonged, and Jim set it down. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. She could just imagine how tired he must be after lugging furniture upstairs most of the day. Flashing him a smile of gratitude, she turned back to her uncle.
Dewey shook his head. “Looks mighty fancy to me. But you did a fine job, and I’m proud of you.”
She was having the time of her life supplying the house and making it livable, and Dewey’s comment gave her a sense of satisfaction that she’d rarely felt before. Deep in her heart, she hoped she never had to return to New York.
❧
A warm sense of admiration surged through Jim as he watched Sasha light up at Dewey’s comment. Her uncle was right—she had done a wonderful job so far of outfitting the house. Dewey’s bedroom was simple but nice. Sasha’s room was a bit more elegant, but still usable and practical. The rose carpeting matched the design on her bedding and the sheer curtains that covered the window.
He loved seeing Sasha’s eyes light up. They reminded him of coffee with just a drip of cream. Wisps of rebellious hairs had pulled free from her long braid and danced about her face whenever the wind whipped in the open window.
Blowing out a sigh, he knew he needed to walk down the hill and head to bed, but he was so tired from hauling furniture upstairs all day, he didn’t want to move.
“Well, Jimmy, I reckon you can sleep in the cabin tonight.”
Jim’s heart skipped a beat. “Are you sure? You haven’t gotten all your belongings out yet.” He wouldn’t admit that sleeping on the cabin’s bed sounded much more inviting than spending the night on the stiff cot in his tent.
Dewey nodded. “Yep, I’m sure. It’s time we called it a night. We’re all tuckered out from working so hard, though I don’t know how I’ll sleep in this fancy bed.”
Sasha gave Dewey a kiss on the cheek, waved good night to Jim, then walked down the hall to her room. Jim longed for her to kiss him, too, but he bid them good night and shuffled down the stairs, wishing for once that the cabin wasn’t so far away. Parts of his body were still tender from the beating he’d taken, and after today’s workout, he longed for a soak in a hot tub. The creek would have to do though.
As he stepped out into the warm evening, he couldn’t get Sasha’s lovely face out of his mind. She was beautiful inside and out. She already loved Dewey, and Jim felt sure that she cared for him, too. He longed to get to know her better and deepen their friendship.
But could there be any future for him and a woman of Indian herita
ge? It wouldn’t be the first time for an Indian and white man to court and maybe marry. In fact, there were many such marriages in the Twin Territories, but what would his family say to such a union?
What would Sasha say?
Thirteen
Sasha wiped down the buffet cabinet with beeswax. As she moved her flannel rag back and forth, her gaze darted over to where Jim was attaching the legs to the oak dining table that he had just brought inside. With the sleeves of his chambray shirt rolled up, she could see the muscles in his forearm contract as he attached the leg to the table. Sighing, she refocused on her job.
She loved to watch Jim work. He was so meticulous in all that he did. She was sure he’d never done a job halfway in all his life. He was nice-looking, honest, and had a faith in God she admired.
She peeked at him again, and his eyes locked onto hers. A warm blush heated her cheeks at being caught staring. Jim’s eyes sparkled. He smiled, then winked at her.
Stifling a gasp at his forwardness, she concentrated again on her polishing. Butterflies danced in her stomach, and she marveled that she’d never met a man who stirred her like he did. She sighed again, wishing, hoping there could be a future for them. But Jim said he planned to move back to the Oklahoma Territory, and now that she had a home and an uncle who loved her, she wasn’t about to leave—even if Jim was willing to marry an Indian. She loved her uncle—even though he wasn’t refined and sophisticated like her mother’s friends—and they were family.
Jim chuckled, making her turn around again. “You’re doing some mighty heavy sighing over there. Must be thinking awful hard.”
She opened her mouth to correct him but knew he spoke the truth.
“I’m always willing to listen if you need someone to talk to.”
Wasn’t that just like him? Considerate to the core. But there was no way she could tell Jim that she’d been thinking about him.
“That’s done.” He stood and stretched, nearly popping the buttons off his shirt.
Her mouth went dry. She longed to lean against his solid chest and have his arms wrap around her.
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