Mistletoe Mayhem: Clean Historical Western Cowboy Romance Novel (Dawson Chronicles Book 1)

by Linda Bridey

  “Calm down. That was a long time ago,” he said to soothe her. “Anyway, I went down to the bathing pool to clean up and let the cold water help my ribs. Along comes Skip walking up from camp. God, Mama, he’s filled out so much and gotten taller, but he looked so funny then because he was all legs and arms and skinny besides. That’s why he wore suspenders so much. Even a belt his didn’t keep his pants up.”

  Frankie laughed. “I’m envious of him—he eats so much and still stays trim.”

  “Mama, you’re beautiful. As soon as he saw me, he started talking, asking me questions like why was my eye bruised, who hit me, did I kill them—all sorts of silly things like that. He made me laugh and he kept pestering me until I told him what had happened.

  “He asked me if this girl liked me and I told him I didn’t know. He asked if she knew that I liked her and I said the same thing. He said, ‘You should tell her before your bruises go away. Tell her you fought for her honor. That’ll really impress her.’ He was right. That was how I got Willa to see me.”

  “Willa? That’s how you got together with her?” Frankie said.

  “Yeah. If it wasn’t for Skip, I wouldn’t have approached her. And from that day on, he and I have been best friends. He was already good friends with Joey, so it just followed that I’d become friends with him, too. Skip’s younger, but sometimes he has pretty good insights about stuff. Plus, he’s always there to lend me an ear.”

  Frankie said. “I’m glad you have good friends, although I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark about you coming home.”

  It was the third time she’d mentioned it to him. “I know, but I really wanted to surprise you guys.”

  “You certainly did. When did they actually decide to send you home?”

  “Not too long ago.”

  Hearing the sudden bitterness in his voice, Frankie glanced at him. His jaw and hands were clenched. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Frankie found a good place to pull over. She cut the engine of the Model T and said, “We’re not moving until you tell me what’s wrong. You’re not going to brush me off, Sawyer Samuels.”

  Sawyer decided to get it over with. “Mama, it wouldn’t matter whether I was healthy or not. I won’t be going back. They gave me a medical discharge, but I was really discharged because of misconduct. The kind where I’m not considered a hero.”

  “What do they think you did?” Frankie asked.

  “Oh, I did it, but I’m not sorry,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know all of those pictures I sent home?”

  She smiled. “Yes. We’re all very impressed with them. Why did you tell D.J. not to print them in the Dialogue?”

  “Because the military doesn’t want combat photographed. I could be convicted of treason if I publish them. I’d be court-martialed and anyone else who published them might be arrested, too. I didn’t know it was against regulations when I first took them and sent them home. I wanted to document what it was like, you know? I took them all with that little Kodak camera I took with me,” Sawyer said.

  Frankie gripped the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles whitened. “They consider taking pictures treason?”

  “Not pictures around the barracks and whatnot, but I was taking pictures of stuff when we’d be in a trench. I’d look out over top and snap pictures. You saw. They don’t want our country to know what it’s really like, Mama. They want to make sure people think that us going to war was the right thing. If the public knew the truth, support would dwindle. You know what it’s like just in our own state right now. You have to watch everything you say out in public.”

  He was right. Tensions in Montana were running high, causing people to turn on one another if they uttered a word against the war. Some people had been arrested on sedition charges for making negative comments. If those photographs ever came to light, Sawyer would certainly be thrown into prison.

  “We have to destroy them and you can’t ever tell anyone about this. No one except your father,” Frankie said.

  “Skip knows, Mama.”

  Her face tightened and she pounded the steering wheel. “No one else, Sawyer! I won’t have you go to prison after almost dying over there. I won’t! You’re my little boy and I can’t lose you.”

  He put an arm around her. “Mama, it’s ok. I’m home and I’m safe. It’s all right.”

  She hugged him as tears of fear fell from her eyes. “You can’t tell anyone, Sawyer, and Skip has to keep his mouth shut about it. We’ll burn those pictures tonight.”

  “I agree that we can’t tell anyone else, but I’m not destroying those pictures. The public should know the reality of the war someday. Those pictures are a part of history and I risked my life to take them. Someday after the war is over I’ll write stories to go with them. I’ll put them in a safe deposit box at the bank. They’ll be safe there,” he said.

  She could see his point about not destroying them after all he’d risked, but she would feel much better once they were safe in the bank. “All right, but you have your father take you to the bank first thing after breakfast tomorrow.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Sawyer said.

  She sniffed and let him go. “And as far as I’m concerned, you are a hero. Someday people will know the truth because of you.”

  “Thanks, Mama. I’ll go crank the car,” he said, getting out.

  She nodded, biting her bottom lip as she fought bursting into tears and watched him limp to the front of the car. By the time he’d started it and got back inside, she’d regained control. Smiling, she put the car in gear and pulled back out onto the road.

  Chapter Three

  Sawyer’s Uncle Marcus was half-Lakota and both his white and Lakota families had combined into one huge, interwoven group. The large Lakota camp, which was near Dawson, had been there for over a century. At one time it had been home to over a hundred families, with tipis as far as the eye could see.

  It was sandwiched between the Samuels and Dwyer lands, giving both families easy access to it. That night, Sawyer slowly rode his horse, Archer, down the trail beside a stream that ran from the ranch to the camp. There was a natural bathing pool halfway between the camp and the ranch.

  He could’ve taken a car and gone the long way, but he’d missed riding and had wanted some fresh air. Dino and Sandy rode with him.

  “Are you ok?” Sandy asked him.

  “Yeah. I’m fine. I’ll let you know if I’m not. So how’s what’s-his-name?”

  “His name is Bo and he’s great. You’ll like him,” Sandy said. “He’s a good man.”

  Dino said, “He’s nice. Mama and Pa like him.”

  “That’s good,” Sawyer responded. “Do you love him?”

  “I don’t know about love, but I sure like him.”

  Dino said, “They were smoochin’ in the barn last week.”

  Sandy said, “Shut up! That’s none of your business. You shouldn’t have been spying.”

  “I wasn’t. I swear. I went out to check on Muffin because she was close to foaling. You were right out in the open. You should go somewhere private if you’re gonna do that.”

  Sawyer said, “You shouldn’t be doing that at all, Sandy.”

  “I know you mean well, Sawyer, but I’m a grown woman and I can make my own decisions. Besides, I’m sure you and Devon did enough of that, so don’t judge me,” Sandy said.

  Sawyer felt a spear of pain through his heart and his jaw clenched. Devon Dwyer was Joey’s adopted sister and he’d been courting her before he’d enlisted. She’d begged him not to leave, but he’d been determined. He’d asked her to marry him, but she’d refused, saying that she didn’t want to be a widow. Their parting had been bitter and painful.

  Dino said, “Sandy, don’t talk about Devon. You know what happened. Don’t rub it in.”

  Sawyer said, “It’s ok, Dino. I can’t avoid it forever and I can’t avoid her, either. I’ll see her whenever I
go over to Joey’s.”

  “She’s seeing Teddy Benson. I don’t want you to be surprised when you see them together,” Sandy said.

  A stronger pain jabbed his heart. I’ve never stopped loving her. “Thanks. I appreciate the warning.”

  When they arrived at camp, Sawyer smiled at all of the familiar noises. Several large fires burned around the clearing and children ran everywhere. There were a couple of games of knuckles on the go and a fiddle and guitar played somewhere. Ten tipis, three cabins, a large barn, and Hope House, Dawson’s orphanage, filled the clearing.

  Beth had been the administrator of Thurston House, the orphanage over in Wolf Point. When it had been forced to close, she and Black Fox had opened a new orphanage because they shared a love of children and hadn’t wanted the kids to be uprooted. Devon had been one of the youngsters in Thurston House. She and quite a few other kids had been adopted by families around the area.

  Prior to that, the Dwyers had been trying to have another baby, but since it hadn’t happened, they’d decided to adopt a child. When they’d gone to Thurston House to see which child they would connect with, three-year-old Devon had followed the Dwyers all over and they’d quickly realized that she was the one they were meant to take.

  They’d lavished her with love and attention, just like their other kids. Not long after they’d adopted Devon, Lacey had become pregnant with Joey. Overjoyed, Lacey had insisted that if it was a boy, he would be named after Joe.

  Sawyer rode his horse over to the central campfire and the heavenly scent of blood soup reached him. The delicious, rich soup always seemed to be cooking somewhere in camp. Most of the time, the same stock was used, with different meats, seasonings, and blood being added every day. It was one of his favorite foods.

  Dino helped him dismount and Sawyer walked over to the fire.

  “Uncle! It is good to see you,” he said in Lakota. Many in their white family had grown up speaking the language.

  Black Fox grinned as he stood up. Sawyer stood six-foot-one, so he had to look up to his uncle’s six-foot-four height. The chief’s posture had remained straight and he was still a strong man. His hair reached midway down his back and was now more silver than black, but it only made him appear more powerful and mystical.

  His ebony eyes shone with happiness. “It is good to see you, too, nephew. Come, sit. Your Aunt Squirrel made fresh blood soup today,” he said, speaking about his sister. He also warmly greeted Dino and Sandy.

  They all sat down, Black Fox helping Sawyer get situated on a large log. He folded a blanket up and put it under Sawyer’s bad ankle to cushion it. Sawyer smiled, thinking how like his uncle it was to do such a thing. Black Fox’s mission in life was to take care of other people, and he did it better than anyone Sawyer knew.

  The Lakota chief had an innate ability to anticipate and meet people’s needs. It was only one of the things that made him a great leader. He was kind-hearted, generous with his time, abilities, and possessions, and fearless when it came to facing enemies or hardships. And woe to the person who threatened his loved ones.

  “I am glad you were finally able to come to camp,” Black Fox said.

  Sawyer switched back to English. “Me, too. Grandpa said that you were in Helena for a couple of days. How come? You don’t normally travel that far away.”

  Black Fox sighed. “Someone told our insurance company that I wasn’t a citizen and I had to show them my citizenship documents so that we could keep our coverage,” Black Fox said. “People keep causing trouble. It is like putting out one small fire after another.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t understand why they just can’t leave you alone. People should be grateful for everything you and Aunt Beth have done for Dawson over the years,” Sawyer said angrily.

  Black Fox smiled. “Do not be troubled. They will grow tired of the game. I do not give up.”

  “I know you don’t. I don’t think you know how to give up.”

  “It is how we were raised. How is your ankle?” He dipped up and handed a bowl of soup to Sawyer.

  Sawyer drank a couple of swallows of broth before saying, “Ben’s gonna do surgery in a couple of days. He has to re-break one of the bones that didn’t heal right. Then he’ll put in a rod to hold it in place. I’ll be on crutches for a while, but it’ll be worth it if I’m able to walk better.”

  Black Fox grunted in understanding. “You do not give up, either. You will be tired of doctors. There are too many in our family.”

  Sawyer laughed. “Yeah. Uncle Mike said that Little Mike is doing good in medical school and Paul is fixin’ to go next year, huh?” Mike was D.J.’s older brother and one of Dawson’s doctors. His Uncle Marcus and his cousin Aiyana were also doctors.

  “Yes, as long as they do not get drafted.”

  “They should draft you,” Sawyer said. “You’d make one hell of a drill sergeant. Everyone would be scared to death of you and they’d do whatever you told them. But you’d have to cut your hair.”

  Black Fox grinned. “I cannot cut my hair. Like Samson in the Bible, that is where all my power lies.”

  The Samuels siblings laughed. A group of small children came rushing up to the fire and surrounded Black Fox, hugging and kissing him. Then a couple of slightly older boys attacked him from behind. Tackled by the gaggle of kids, the chief tilted over. So many of the kids in the family and around Dawson had done the same thing with him.

  The man was timeless and Sawyer knew that the secret to Black Fox’s youthfulness was surrounding himself with young people. Watching the big Indian laugh and roughhouse with the kids made Sawyer wish to be that little again just so he could join in.

  Apparently Skip had no such compunction about age. He came out of nowhere and joined the fray, sitting on Black Fox’s back.

  “Get him!” Skip shouted. “I’ll hold him—”

  The kids screamed in delight when Black Fox rolled over with a well-practiced move and pinned Skip, his forearm resting across Skip’s throat while his other hand poised above Skip’s head as though it held a knife. Then he tickled Skip mercilessly, his victim letting out strangled laughter.

  Chuckling, Black Fox let him up. Skip got to his feet, still laughing while Black Fox dusted him off a little.

  “Don’t worry about it, Grandfather,” Skip said. “I can handle a little dirt.”

  Skip’s family was very close with Black Fox and Beth. They had become surrogate grandparents to him, his sister, Renee, and his brother, Jethro.

  A little blonde girl named Nell tugged on Black Fox’s hand. “Pa, will you come tuck us in? Ma says it’s time for bed.”

  The Black Foxes answered to all variants of names for mother and father.

  Black Fox ran a hand over her hair and smiled at her. “Yes. I will be there shortly.”

  “All right,” she said.

  The youngsters ran off, giggling and teasing each other.

  Skip said, “I remember when you used to tuck us in.”

  Black Fox smiled. “Used to? You made me do that last week when I was at your house.”

  “I knew I could talk you into it,” Skip said. “All I had to do was promise you oatmeal cookies.”

  Sawyer let out a snort of laughter and Black Fox sent him a hard look. The chief’s huge sweet tooth was legendary and he could often be bribed with desserts or candy. Sometimes, he would simply order someone to make him something and say, “I have spoken.” And they made it.

  Sawyer said, “It’s true, uncle.”

  Black Fox smiled and sat down again. “Yes, I know. Justin, is Switch still in hibernation?”

  Skip’s smile dimmed. “Yeah. I was able to keep him up for supper at least.”

  Skip’s real name was Justin Keller, Jr., but some of his friends had given him the nickname of Skip since he often jumped around to unrelated topics in rapid succession, a trait he’d inherited from his father. Skip’s parents never called him by his nickname and because he respected their wishes, Black Fox didn’t, eithe
r.

  Skip’s father was manic depressive and also suffered from bouts of debilitating fatigue. There were times when he would be in bed for days after not being able to sleep much for several weeks. Switch called these periods “hibernation.” It was hard to keep him awake long enough to eat sometimes and he would fall asleep sitting or standing up. Unfortunately, Switch had passed down some of his condition to his youngest son.

  Skip sometimes exhibited excessive anger and anxiety, which was why he wasn’t fit to go into the military. However, the majority of the time, he was just as sweet natured and comical as Switch. But once he was angry, it took a long time for him to cool down. Skip was very aware of his odd behavior and sometimes disappeared for a few hours until he was back in control again. Along with his parents, Joey and Sawyer were usually able to pull him out of his funks.

  Beth came walking over to the fire holding a squalling baby who was around a year old. She was accompanied by Jonathan, her and Black Fox’s sixteen-year-old biological son. Black Fox smiled at his beautiful, tawny-haired wife and held out his hands for the baby.

  She had recently been orphaned and was still adjusting to all of the new people and the unfamiliar surroundings. When he sat Indian style, Black Fox’s long legs made the perfect place for babies to lay and small children to sit. He put the baby in the hollow they created, rubbing her belly soothingly while he hummed. She quieted and began playing with his fingers.

  Beth came over to hug Sawyer, Sandy, and Dino before sitting down by her husband. He put his free arm around her, smiling into her amber eyes.

  “It never fails,” she said. “Sometimes I can get her down right away, but he always can.”

  Jonathan sat down by Sawyer. “I always beg him to put her down so she won’t keep me up. The other kids keep me up enough as it is. I keep asking for my own tipi, but they won’t let me have one.” He stretched his long legs out in front of him. His long, wavy, dark brown hair was done up in a single braid. While he’d inherited his father’s height, he had Beth’s smile and his eyes were a shade of brown in between his parents’.