A Cheyenne Thanksgiving

by Caroline Lee

  Luckily, she said yes, and he didn’t waste time. A quick kiss to seal the bargain, and he dragged her right back to the Newells’ home. The ladies had sighed and giggled over Tess, and the Colonel shook Cam’s hand and insisted on a wedding toast.

  He would have liked to give Tess a grand wedding, but he just didn’t have the money to waste—or the time. He’d already been away from the Open Skye for five days, and it’d take another two to get home. He’d spent much longer than necessary here at Laramie, waiting for Tess to recover. If he wasted another day, Da would get worried and was likely to send a few of the hands north to look for him.

  Of course, he didn’t just tell Tess his decision; he explained why he needed to get back, and appreciated when she agreed with him immediately. They decided they’d be married first thing in the morning, and then head out.

  And so that’s how he was currently riding beside Mrs. Cameron Alexander MacLeod. It’d given him a light feeling to hear the chaplain proclaim them husband and wife, and he was still smiling. He’d scooped up Jacob—who’d been confusedly solemn throughout the wedding—and tickled him ‘til he giggled. Then he planted another one of those amazing kisses on his new wife’s lips, and felt them curl under his. He hoped that she was as pleased with this marriage as he was. He hoped that it would make them both happy.

  Tess wasn’t exactly a competent horsewoman, but then she wasn’t inept either. She’d shown up at the chapel right after dawn wearing one of those new-fangled split riding skirts with her own blouse, and Cam’s pulse had sped up at the sight of her rear end pressed against the material. She’d seen the direction of his gaze, and blushed.

  “Mrs. Newell knew we’d be riding all day, so she gave me an old skirt of hers.”

  Cam swallowed. “That was nice of her.”

  So she was riding astride beside him, on a sweet little mare Cam had bought off the quartermaster that morning before the wedding. She’d cost a pretty penny, but Gibbon was willing to extend credit on the beef Cam’s men would drive north to Laramie later in the month.

  She’d started out carrying Jacob on her lap, but the active little boy soon proved that she couldn’t handle him and the horse. The kid crawled all over her, and managed just about every position imaginable on that saddle. After the second time she groaned because a little knee lodged in her side, Cam trotted up beside her and snagged Jacob. He hadn’t wanted to sit with a stranger, but Cam soon put him at ease by explaining all about the horse and the landscape. He was just saying whatever came to his mind, but it seemed to work, and soon Jacob was happily chattering away too. Cam and Tess took turns pointing out interesting animal tracks or trees they passed. Jacob was more interested in the “horsies” though, so Cam let him pat his sorrel as often as the kid wanted.

  They talked about nothing much; his home and what she could expect, the land they were traveling through, and the people they met at the fort. Everything he heard from her made him surer that he’d made the right decision in asking her to hitch her wagon to his. She was a fair, courageous woman who didn’t hesitate to do what was right, and that was a quality he could appreciate.

  Lunch was a picnic Mrs. Gibbon had packed for them, calling it their “wedding feast.” Cam teased Tess about it, but she just shrugged and smiled slightly. “We couldn’t afford to waste time on a reception. And we didn’t really know anyone there to celebrate with.” He appreciated her practicality.

  And now Jacob was asleep in the crook of Cam’s arm, his blankie shoved under his nose like always. Cam was surprised how comfortable he felt holding the kid. It gave him that same light feeling he’d experienced when Tess had quietly said “I do”. The same feeling he got from holding little Rose. But there was something else here, something right and good. Maybe it was because he had a claim to this kid now. Maybe it was because he knew Jacob depended on him, relied on Cam to keep him safe. Whatever it was, he felt downright comfortable holding a sleeping two-year-old on the back of a horse.

  He glanced over at Tess. She seemed to be holding up alright. Still, he didn’t want to wear her out, and wondered when they should stop for a rest. “How long is he going to sleep?”

  She quickly looked towards her son. “Maybe a while. I’ll take him back if he’s too heavy. Or if you need your hand back.”

  Hastily, he reassured her. “Nah, we’re fine. I was just wondering when it would be okay to stop again. I don’t want to wear you out.”

  The look she turned on him was funny, like she couldn’t figure him out. Then she straightened in the saddle and faced forward once more. “I’ll be fine. We can keep going as long as you need to.”

  Cam shrugged. “We’ll be back at the ranch before dark tomorrow, even if we stop a little early today. I’d rather make sure we all arrive in one piece.”

  “Alright.” That faint smile was back. “I’ll admit that I wouldn’t mind another stop. But after Jacob wakes up, please. I love him, but his naptime is the only peace I get these days.”

  He smiled at the weariness in her tone, and almost reminded her that there were two of them to take care of the kid now. Sure, Cam would likely be gone most of the days, but he’d be able to see her in the evenings, to share her worries and burdens. And his father had been staying in the house more often in the last year, so she’d have Ian’s help too. Instead of mentioning all that, he just looked down at Jacob, and tucked a curl behind one little ear. “Yeah, he’s a tornado alright. But he sure is cute. That smile of his, when his cheeks scrunch up into his eyes? That’s a heart-breaker.”

  She was looking at him oddly again, so he nodded to let her know he meant it. She didn’t stop. “What?”

  “I just…” her brows drew in even further. “I’ve just never known a man who noticed things like that. Besides my father, I guess. Most men think children are their woman’s problem.”

  Cam shrugged, careful not to disturb Jacob. “Maybe. I like kids. I want a whole passel of ‘em, if you could stand more.” Her eyes widened and she bit her bottom lip. He wondered if she knew how erotic that was. “Knowing that you’re responsible for something so delicate, that they’re relying on you to keep ‘em safe and teach ‘em right… that’s something special.” A moment of silence passed before he confessed, “I’m starting to think it’s the reason we’re put on this earth.”

  “I’ve thought the same thing.” Her whisper was a long time in coming, long enough that Cam wondered if she would respond. “Raising Jacob has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I’m constantly worried about him. Is he eating the right foods? Is he going to fall in the fire? Am I being patient enough? But then I get his cuddles, his little kisses, and I think that maybe everything will be alright.”

  “I can tell you’re a good mother, Tessa.”

  “Not always.”

  “The fact that you worry about being a good mother means you are one.”

  She didn’t respond, but he saw a flush creep up her neck. It sure was a nice neck, all creamy smooth. She was wearing that same green silk scarf she’d had tied around her hair when he’d met her, only this time it was tucked around her neck and into the front of her blouse. It was almost as pretty as she was.

  “You mind me asking you something?” Dark eyes flicked towards him. “Yesterday you called yourself a half-breed. And you signed the register this morning as ‘Teresa Li Kitchens’.”

  She was silent for a long moment and then, reluctantly, as if she was confessing a dark secret, she said, “My father was Chinese.”

  Yeah, as soon as he’d seen her name he’d put two-and-two together. The slight ‘otherness’, the exotic slant of her beauty; she had some Oriental blood. Now that he looked at her, it was obvious. The slick, dark hair, the dark eyes with their slight tilt… but she wasn’t entirely Chinese, no. “Not your mother, though?”

  “No. Her name was Mueller, and she never officially married Baba. Big and blonde and pale.”

  Maybe that explained her creamy skin. Or maybe she got that from her
father too; Cam couldn’t tell. “Sounds like an interesting story.” He’d met a few Chinamen working in Cheyenne after the railroad was complete, but only ever seen one Chinese lady. He’d heard that some of the men sent for their wives from back home, but he’d never heard of one marrying a German woman. But again, Cam didn’t know much about them.

  Tess had smiled at the mention of her parents, and he discovered that he liked looking at her from this angle. The curve of her neck, her high cheekbone, and the tip of her chin were all visible, and he felt a jolt of desire when he thought of kissing those spots. He shifted Jacob to a more comfortable position.

  “My father wasn’t like his brothers, or any of the other men who came to California to help lay rail. He was a fifth son, and was born with a crippled foot. So his family saw him as extraneous, useless to educate in the ways of a man. He came to California with two of his brothers, but he worked as a grocer instead of for the railway, and eventually opened his own store.” She smiled again, and he smiled with her. “He was always so cheerful, so ready to play. Always singing or telling stories.”

  “And your mother?”

  “She was already pretty jaded when she arrived in San Francisco. She once told me that she had worked hard her entire life, because she’d known no man would ever love her. She thought she was ugly. But Baba grew to love her, I think. They were partners. They worked well together.”

  “At the store?”

  “Yes. I was their only child, and Mama was already old when I came along. I can remember a lady telling my mother it was selfish of her, to want a child, when it meant I’d grow up trapped between two worlds.” Is that what she’d meant when she said that a man like him shouldn’t want someone like her? Surely she didn’t believe that the mixed blood made her less desirable? “But I wasn’t really. My father didn’t act Chinese, or speak it, or even do business with other Chinamen. I think he turned his back on his culture after they turned their back on him. The only thing Chinese about him was his eating habits,” she laughed, “He could eat his weight in rice!”

  “So you don’t know much about China?”

  “Baba told me the fairy tales of his childhood, while Mama told me about Little Red Riding Hood and Jack Frost. But otherwise, no. I don’t know the history or the people or the language.”

  “I have a friend who’s a quarter Indian. Nate looks Indian, but the blood’s from his grandmother, who he never met. So he doesn’t even know what tribe he’s supposed to be from.” Cam shrugged. “Of course, he’s mostly white, but he doesn’t look it. People only see the Indian.”

  “I know how it is. My whole life, people look at me and see something foreign-looking. It’s hard to make them see me for what I can do, rather than what I look like.” Cam nodded thoughtfully, but she continued. “And men were the worst. White men think I’m too strange to be pretty, and Chinamen think I’m too plain. Even my first husband, who I’d known since I was a girl, married me because we were friends. Not because he liked the way I looked.” Dark eyes slid over him, before she focused on her horse’s ears once more. “So when you said those things…”

  She didn’t believe him. He didn’t know how to tell her the truth; that her otherness was what made her so exotic. And beautiful, to him. He was afraid that if he tried to explain, she’d bring up what she said about him being handsome. He’d always felt too big, too oafish to be anything other than a dumb cowboy. No woman had ever looked at him the way she had in the lamplight last night. But then, he’d never reacted to another woman the way he’d reacted to her, which is why he was so damned pleased to be riding beside her, on their way home.

  So he said nothing, not sure what to say to make her believe him. He just smiled, and watched her eyes widen again. And then something like desire flashed between them, and she bit her lip again and looked away.

  Suddenly, he was really looking forward to his wedding night.

  But that evening, after cooking a simple dinner, he realized that his new wife was exhausted. She was practically asleep on her feet, but luckily Jacob had worn himself out as well, playing in the stream they were camped beside. Cam’s stomach did a funny little flip as he watched her rock her son to sleep, placing gentle kisses on the boy’s forehead and cheeks. He’d laid a bedroll out for her on one side of the banked fire, but hadn’t put his own out. He was waiting for some sign from her, some indication that he was welcome beside her. He never got it; by the time he got back from checking on the horses, his wife was fast asleep, curled around his new stepson.

  Cam just grinned slightly and placed his bedroll beside hers, figuring there was nothing she could say about it now. And once he was sure she really was asleep, he rolled over and wrapped one strong arm around them both, knowing that he could keep them safe and happy.

  And for the first time in a long time, he was struck with a sense of rightness. He shifted closer to Tess, careful not to disturb her, and fell asleep with a smile on his face.

  She woke up plastered on top of him. She didn’t realize it, of course, and her first thought was that the ground certainly had gotten harder overnight. But then she became aware that her cheek was pillowed by a cotton shirt, her lips were pressed up against the warm skin at the base of his neck, and a thick arm wrapped around her back. She quickly scrambled off him, mortified.

  Jacob, who was splayed spread-eagle as always, woke up chattering. Tess didn’t really hear him; she was too busy thinking about how safe and comfortable she’d felt on top of her husband. How cherished. Those green eyes were staring up at her, not demanding, just curious. As if he was waiting to see what she would do. Her fingers rose unbidden to her lips, remembering what it felt to be kissed by him, and she stared back.

  “Good morning.” His whisper set his eyes twinkling, and she couldn’t help but smile back. She still couldn’t believe that a man like him could think she was pretty. But despite what she’d told him yesterday, he hadn’t drawn away from her. She hadn’t noticed any difference in the way he’d treated her. She still felt… beautiful around him.

  She finally roused herself enough to say “Good morning” back, and that was the last peaceful interlude they shared for a long time. Jacob was wild again—she thought Cam’s description of a tornado was appropriate—and didn’t want to spend another day trapped on a horse. They had to make more stops than yesterday for him to run around, and he was fussier each time they re-mounted. By mid-afternoon, Tess was ready for a nap herself.

  Jacob was standing up, his arms thrown wide around the horse’s neck, with Cam’s hand holding the back of his britches. Although she lived her life in almost constant worry about her little daredevil, she was surprised how calm she was when her new husband held her son. She trusted Cam with the boy. He was unexpectedly patient with the two-year-old, willing to teach.

  “Those are the ears. The horse’s ears.”

  “Ho-sey ee-ya?”

  “Horsey’s eeeeeear.”

  “EEEEEEE-YA?”

  Cam chuckled. “Close enough. That’s the mane you’re hanging on there. Like the horsey’s hair.”

  “Mane hair?”

  “Right. You have hair on your head,” he ruffled the boys’ curls, and Jacob ducked and giggled as he slid back down to his rear end, “But the horsey has hair on his neck and tail. He likes to be scratched right here. No,” he gentled guided the boy’s hand, “Like this. Don’t hit, scratch.”

  “Nice ho-sey.”

  “Yeah, nice horsey. When we get home, I’ll take you to see the other horsies.”

  “Mo’ ho-sies?”

  “Yep, a whole stable full of ‘em. They belong to the cowboys, the men who work for me. My friend raises and trains horsies, and he’s got lots and lots of ‘em.”

  “See horsies?”

  “If you want. It’ll be a few days before I’m caught up enough to take you and your mama to visit the Barkers, but I’d sure like that.” Tess caught him looking at her, and so she smiled slightly to let him know that meeting his fri
ends was a fine idea.

  “Home?”

  “Soon. I have a new house. It’s much bigger than my old one. It’s just for me and my father, and now you and your mama. There’s even a little bedroom down the hall from ours that’d be good for you.”

  “An’ bankie?”

  “And your blankie.”

  Tess got all warm at the thought of sharing a bedroom—a bed!—with her new husband. She knew it was going to happen, and knew that Cam wouldn’t want Jacob sleeping with them, but Heavens! The feelings roiling through her certainly were confusing; anticipation for his touch, pique that he was separating her and her baby, nervousness over pleasing him. She was acting like a virgin on her way to the altar.

  Her lips pulled down in a frown. She was no wide-eyed innocent. She’d managed her family store after her parents’ deaths, and then sold it to start a new life with Joshua when he’d proposed. After his death, she’d birthed and raised their son all alone, managing another store in some of the wildest land in America. She’d seen and done so much in the last three years; things she wouldn’t have thought herself capable of back in San Francisco. There was nothing about marriage and the marriage bed that should make her flush and lose her breath… but that’s exactly what was happening when she thought of Cam holding her, stroking her…

  And that’s still what she was still thinking of, two hours later, when they climbed a small rise and she was presented with her new home. It was amazing. She’d never been inside anything so grand, much less lived there. The house was painted white, with a porch that wrapped all the way around both sides, and beautiful carvings on the overhangs. There were rocking chairs beside the front door, and overgrown flower pots along the steps. Behind and to either side stretched the outbuildings and barns.

  Tess couldn’t help her wide-eyed expression when she turned to him. “You are rich!”

  “Not really.” But he had the grace to look chagrined. “The house was part of the Selkirk spread. I moved my operation here and kept on some of the Double-S hands. A bunch of ‘em left when I sold off so much of the stock to pay Sebastian back. I’ve got a lot of land now, but not enough beef to run on it. I’m hoping to build my herd back up over the next few years.”