Winter's Touch

by Hudson, Janis Reams

“Please.” Her eyes slid shut. “Do not say such things to me.”

  “Why? Why are you talking of leaving? I thought you wanted…I thought you liked the things you feel when we’re together.”

  “Like them?” She opened her eyes and met his gaze. “I crave them. I want them—you—so much that I canna think of aught else.”

  “Then why—”

  “You are the one who kept reminding me that I must wait for the man who will be my husband. Is that man you, Carson? Are you asking me to be your mate, your wife? Or are you thinking I’ll make a good wh—”

  “Don’t say it!” He gripped her arms and shook her twice. “Don’t you dare say it. Never. I’ve never thought of you that way. Damn you for even thinking it.”

  “If I’m to be neither your wife nor your whore, then are we to be merely friends?”

  Carson stared at her. Hard. He couldn’t believe the turn in the conversation.

  “Friends do not do the things we have done together. At least not among Our People. Do they among whites? Would your aunt and your sister and your daughter understand if I were to be that kind of friend to you and you to me?”

  “What is this?” He turned loose of her arms and stepped back. “I’ve been blind-sided once by a woman and ended up married and wishing I wasn’t. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

  “I do not know this word, blind-sided. I was merely explaining why I canna stay here. I knew you didna want me for your wife, Carson. But you’ve made me realize what the alternative would be, and that would be as unacceptable to me as my becoming your wife would be to you.”

  Carson took a slow, deep breath, then let it out. This was not Julia, northern beauty, trying to get him, Southern planter, to the alter just to shock her congressman father. This was Winter Fawn, and she would leave him if he didn’t stop her. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon. One day he would wake up and she would be gone.

  The thought was intolerable.

  What the hell. She was beautiful and he wanted her. He had planned to someday marry to provide a mother for Megan. He couldn’t expect Gussie to spend the rest of her life raising his daughter.

  “Did you mean what you said about wanting to live in one place instead of roaming the prairie?”

  “Aye, I think I would like that, but such a thing is not possible for me,” she said, looking off into the distance again.

  “It is possible. I think you’re right—we should get married.”

  Winter Fawn gaped and stared at him. “I never said we should do such a thing.”

  “Why not? Think about it. I need a wife, Megan needs a mother. You need a home. We want each other. That’s more than most people have going for them when they get married.”

  “You say nothing of love.”

  She made a direct hit with that one. He didn’t want to love a woman. That way lay heartache. “Neither do you,” he responded.

  Winter Fawn closed her eyes and tried to breath. So. He didna love her, but would marry her to keep her from leaving. She supposed she should accept his offer. Or rather, send him to her father, as was the way of Our People. But to live with him day after day and never have his love…

  At least if she had married Crooked Oak, she wouldna care that he didna love her.

  With Carson, she knew she would care too much.

  “Nae,” she told him. She did him the courtesy of opening her eyes when she spoke, but she tried her best not to see his face. “I dinna want a man who willna marry me, but I willna marry a man who disnae love me.”

  The band of Southern Arapaho led by Little Raven had left its winter encampment and joined the rest of the tribe along the banks of the Arkansas. There was much revelry as old friends were greeted, new children were shown off, exploits bragged about.

  Little Raven kept a close eye on the warriors whenever they gathered, for fear they would speak more of fighting than of finding the buffalo. But with Crooked Oak gone, it was fairly easy to keep even the dog soldiers from doing anything drastic.

  Crooked Oak could stay gone, as far as Little Raven was concerned. Little Raven did wonder what had become of Winter Fawn, but he assumed she was somewhere with her father and brother. This is what her uncle, Two Feathers, now believed, which was why he had left Crooked Oak and returned to Our People. Long Chin and Talks Loud had come with him. They said that Crooked Oak was determined to find her, even though they had searched the mountains for weeks and found no sign. Red Bull and Spotted Calf had remained with Crooked Oak.

  Little Raven was confident that one day Winter Fawn would return to let them know what had happened to her. She would not leave her grandparents to wonder and worry.

  For now, Little Raven must decide what to do about the message he had just received. The white fathers wanted another peace council. They wanted the Arapaho, the Cheyenne, and others to gather at Medicine Lodge Creek in the place they called Kansas. No doubt they would want Our People to confine themselves to a reservation, as had happened with other tribes. Little Raven did not care for the idea of a reservation, unless it meant that the whites must stay away. If there was game and good water and no whites…

  Ah, but how was he ever to convince the Dogmen that another treaty was better for the tribe than going to war?

  Man-Above, guide me. Send me a sign. Should we go to war, or should we make peace?

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I wonder if we can grow squash here.” Gussie tapped the blunt end of her pencil against her chin.

  Carson looked up from the poker hand he held. The family, except for Megan, who was in bed, was seated around the table after supper. Bess and Winter Fawn were each bent over an article of clothing, plying needle and thread to mend various tears. Carson and Innes were teaching Hunter the finer points of five card stud.

  “Planning a garden?” Carson asked.

  “Yes.” Gussie smiled. “We certainly need one, but I’m not sure what will grow well here. I suppose the merchant in town can advise me. I thought,” she said, glancing at Winter Fawn, who sat across the table from her, “that we could purchase seeds when we go to town Saturday, and that perhaps Winter Fawn might not object too strongly to being in charge of our garden.”

  A big smile slowly lit Innes’s face. “Ach, that be a fair good idea.”

  Winter Fawn looked up, skeptical. “I know nothing of gardening.”

  “Oh, but you could learn,” Bess offered. “Aunt Gussie can teach you, and I can help.”

  “Certainly,” Gussie added. “And think what a useful skill you’ll possess.”

  Winter Fawn glanced down at her mending. “I will be glad to help in any way I can, but gardening is not something I can do once I return to Our People. We do not stay in one place long enough to grow anything.”

  Reaction to her calm statement came swiftly.

  Innes looked thunderstruck.

  Hunter merely watched her, his face expressionless.

  “Return?” Bess cried. “Oh, Winter Fawn, you wouldn’t leave us, would you?”

  Carson slapped his cards face down on the table so hard the globe rattled in the lamp. “You’re not going back,” he protested. “Good God, woman, they tried to kill you. Twice!”

  Winter Fawn kept her gaze steadily on her sewing. “’Twas you they tried to kill. I merely got in the way.”

  “Winter Fawn,” Bess cried again. “Say you don’t mean it. You can’t leave us. We need you!”

  Finally Winter Fawn looked up at Bess with a half smile. “I canna stay here forever. This is your home, your place in the world. I must find mine.”

  “This would be yours,” Carson said, his eyes narrowed, “if you’d just marry me, like I asked.”

  Winter Fawn stiffened. She could not believe he said such a thing. To her it was private, between the two of them, not a thing to be discussed around the table.

  “What’s this?” Innes roared.

  “Carson!” Bess jumped up and hugged his neck. “You proposed? And no one said a
nything?”

  “She did.” Carson’s mouth twisted down at the corners. “She said no.”

  “But…but why?” Bess wanted to know of Winter Fawn. “Oh, it’s perfect. It’s the answer to everything. When you marry Carson, you’ll be my sister for real.”

  “Bess…” Winter Fawn was at a loss. Was she to tell them all, straight out, that Carson did not love her? Was she to humiliate herself in such a way?

  “You asked my daughter to marry ye without talkin’ to me first?” Innes demanded.

  “If she’d been agreeable,” Carson said, his words clipped, “I would have come to you. Since she wasn’t, there’s not much point, is there?”

  Innes pushed back his chair and stood. “Let’s be takin’ ourselves a little stroll, lass.” It was not said as a request. He held his hand out to Winter Fawn.

  Reluctantly, she stood.

  “Take my shawl, dear,” Gussie told Winter Fawn. “It’s there on the peg by the door. I declare, the nights get downright chilly out here.”

  As Winter Fawn turned away from the table, Bess gripped her hand. “Change your mind, please. Stay here forever with us.”

  Winter Fawn tried to speak, but couldn’t. She followed her father onto the porch and out into the yard.

  The air was cool, the star-studded sky black. She took a deep breath and let it out, silently praying for strength, for help.

  Her father took a drink from his flask. The fumes stung her eyes and pinched her nostrils.

  “So, the lad asked ye to marry him.”

  As far as Winter Fawn was concerned, his comment required to response from her.

  “What? Ye’ve nothin’ to say?”

  She heaved a sigh. “Aye, he asked me.”

  “And ye turned him down.”

  “What is this?” she cried. “Not too long ago you were telling me to stay away from him.”

  “That was different. Now we’re talking marriage. Lass,” he said, his voice softening in a way she hadn’t heard since she was a child. “I’ve seen with my own eyes that he appeals to ye.”

  “He disnae love me, Da.”

  “He said as much?”

  “’Tis what he didna say that tells me.”

  “Ah, so now ye be readin’ his mind, is that it?”

  “No,” she said crossly. “I asked him right out if he loved me. He didna answer. That was answer enough, do ye no think?”

  “Few enough marriages start out with love, lass.”

  “Yours did. You and Mother loved each other.”

  Innes felt the squeeze around his heart at the mention of Smiling Woman. God, but the lass had the right of it. He and Smiling Woman had loved each other like there was no tomorrow. Now their daughter stood before him a grown woman. Never had he been more unsure of himself. Never had he missed Smiling Woman’s wise counsel more than at this moment.

  “Aye,” he said finally. “That we did. But…”

  “But I should settle for less?”

  “Tell me, lass, what would have happened if Carson Dulaney and his family had never come along?”

  Winter Fawn looked at him warily. “What do you mean?”

  “Ye said yerself that other girls your age are long since married, with children of their own. If things had no turned out the way they had when I came to the village this time, Crooked Oak would have offered for you.”

  “Ye wouldna have accepted!” she protested.

  “No him, nae. But there would have been other offers. Chances are I would have accepted one and you might already have a husband. Aside from yer mother and me, I know of no other marriage among Our People that was not arranged by the girl’s family. Is this not true?”

  “Aye,” she said reluctantly. “So?”

  “Most of those couples were not in love when they married, yet many came to love each other. Do ye think I wouldna have accepted an offer and arranged yer marriage if Crooked Oak hadna attacked us? Lord, lass, ‘tis time ye took a husband.”

  “You wouldna arrange a match with Carson,” she said, horrified. “Da, you wouldna.”

  Innes narrowed his eyes. “And why wouldna I? Why shouldna I do that very thing? He’s a good man. He can provide for you. With him ye’ll be safer than with any man in the tribe.”

  “Da—”

  “Nae, dinna fash yerself, lass. I’ll no force the issue. Not just yet. Not if ye promise me ye’ll think on it. Ye may think he disnae love ye, but from what I see, I’m thinkin’ maybe he just disnae know it yet.”

  “Nae.” She shook her head. “He likes me well enough.”

  Innes hooted. “Aye, and ye dinna mind lookin’ at him too much yerself. Lass, ye must have a husband soon. This world is no place for a woman alone.”

  “I’m not alone, Da. I have you. Unless,” she added with a touch of hurt in her voice that she could not disguise, “you’re going to leave me again.”

  “Nae, I’ll no be leavin’ ye, lass. Not apurpose. But I’m old. I canna provide for ye forever. Carson can. Promise me ye’ll think on it.”

  To please her father, Winter Fawn gave him the promise he sought. She only wished she did not want so badly to be Carson’s wife. She wished she did not want so badly for Carson to love her.

  Saturday morning they headed out for town. Carson drove the wagon, with Gussie sitting next to him. Winter Fawn had insisted on riding in the back with Bess and Megan. Hunter and the men accompanied them on horseback.

  They were nearly there when Innes cursed and drew his horse to a halt.

  Carson drew the team up and called back, “What’s wrong?”

  Innes dismounted and lifted the left forefoot of his horse, the lowered it. “Loose shoe,” he called back. “I’ll be seein’ about it in town.”

  Carson gave a nod, then, when Innes remounted, urged the team forward.

  Badito was a small, dusty town that served the needs of the outlying ranches up and down the Huerfano. It sat at the point where the Yellowstone Creek emptied into the river, just below the southern tip of the Wet Mountains. Just north rose a pointed peak, small compared to other mountains, but isolated so that it stood out, especially when coming from the east. Word was that it rose to over eight thousand feet above sea level.

  The town boasted two saloons, a combination livery and blacksmith shop, a general store, a post office, and a few scattered houses.

  As they rode into town, people stepped into doorways and peered out windows to watch.

  Carson pulled the wagon to a stop next to the general store and helped Gussie down. Innes was there for Winter Fawn and the girls. Winter Fawn walked past Carson and joined Gussie without looking at him.

  “You ladies get whatever you need in the store,” he said to Gussie. He wanted to remind her not to forget material for a dress for Winter Fawn, but hell, it was she who had noticed the need in the first place. He didn’t figure she needed reminding. He didn’t figure Winter Fawn would appreciate his saying anything, either. She didn’t seem to appreciate much of anything he did or said lately.

  He turned toward Hunter. “While we go see about that horseshoe, why don’t you go with them and pick yourself out some shirts and denims?”

  Hunter looked to his father. When Innes nodded, the boy, face expressionless, followed the ladies toward the store.

  Carson turned away and accompanied Innes down the sunbaked street toward the livery.

  Winter Fawn sighed as he walked away. She did not know what to do. She wanted so much to be with him, to stay with him. But she wasn’t sure she could bear knowing he did not feel the same.

  Yes, he had asked her to marry him. But she feared that was more a matter of convenience for him. A woman to share his bed and be a mother to his daughter.

  She had had an ache in her heart for days. Now it moved to her head and throbbed behind her eyes. This heaviness of spirit was not like her. With an effort, she shrugged it off and turned back to follow Gussie and the girls into the store.

  The door to the store stood open.
As Gussie stepped near, a woman came out and blocked the way.

  Winter Fawn stiffened.

  “You!” cried Mrs. Linderman. “Mr. Hernandez doesn’t allow savages in his store. We don’t allow savages in this town.”

  Having never been exposed to hate before, Winter Fawn was at a loss.

  Not so, Gussie. “I declare, I’m pleased to hear it.” In an elaborate gesture, she looked around at Winter Fawn, at Bess and Megan and Hunter, then up and down the street. “It must be working. I don’t see a single savage in sight. How do you do? I’m Mrs. Winthrop, late of Atlanta.”

  Bess had trouble holding back a giggle.

  Mrs. Linderman made a low, snarling sound of rage in her throat and stomped away down the street.

  “My, my,” Gussie said beneath her breath. “What an unpleasant woman.”

  “That,” Bess informed her, “was the housekeeper Carson fired.”

  “I always knew that boy had a good head on his shoulders.” Gussie lowered her parasol and stepped through the doorway and into the dim interior of the store. “Girls, shall we get busy? I declare, it’s been simply ages since I’ve shopped. I’ve a terrible need to spend some of Carson’s money.”

  It was the most unpleasant hour of Winter Fawn’s life. She could not indulge her fascination with all the wonderful sights and smells in the store, for everywhere she turned, she felt the shopkeeper’s eyes, narrow and suspicious, on her. Two women swept their skirts aside when she or Hunter neared, as though the material would be contaminated beyond redemption if it should brush against one of them. Another man stared at her every bit as intently as the man behind the counter, but his look was not suspicious; he looked at her as though she wore no clothes, or as though given half a chance, he would rip her clothes from her body and not care in the least that she might object.

  She was not even aware of what Gussie was buying, so miserable was she.

  And Bess, bless her, was not enjoying herself either, for she had obviously appointed herself Winter Fawn’s guardian and refused to leave her side.

  I do not belong here, Winter Fawn thought. How could Carson want to marry someone his own kind hated? If he married her, would not they soon come to hate him, too? And Megan, and Bess, and anyone else close to him?