Lance had smirked. “Fiona Patterson is the reason Ellie wants to keep our meetings out of sight. If she knows about it, she might lock her niece away, even though Ellie’s old enough to make her own decisions.”
Stubbs’ bushy eyebrows had raised high enough to disappear beneath the brim of his hat.
“Ellie, is it?”
“She insisted I call her by that name, and she’s the one who asked me to teach her more signs.”
Stubbs had wagged a finger in Lance’s face. “I’m gonna say it again, Taggart. Be careful, and don’t get tangled up with somethin’ you ought not tangle with. If you want my advice, you’ll tell that young lady you can’t be her teacher. It don’t look right.”
Lance had gritted his teeth. While the foreman thought highly of him to train the horses, even he believed that it wasn’t right for Lance to be in the company of a white woman. Of course it was a bad idea, but for some reason he hadn’t been able to explain, he was drawn to this girl. His grandfather had often told him that a man had to follow his instincts, especially when they pulled at him so strongly.
The two saddle horses snorted contently while grazing the grass along the creek bank. Lance bit back his sudden frustration at the memory of the conversation with Stubbs. Would he always live between two worlds? Among the whites, he was never seen as anything but an Indian, and to his mother’s people, he was considered a traitor who had conformed to the white man’s ways. Never mind that it hadn’t been his fault that he’d been taken from the reservation and forced to attend the white man’s school in faraway Pennsylvania.
Irrational anger flooded him. Anger for a man he’d never met – his white father. His mother had refused to tell him anything about his father, only that he’d been a soldier in the army, and that his name had been Taggart. Lance’s fists bunched at his sides. His hatred for anything to do with soldiers grew with the memory of the hurt in his mother’s eyes when he’d asked as a young boy why his father had left. She’d told him she’d loved his father deeply and had spoken of him with great affection. He’d left, however, after she’d told him she was with child, and she’d never seen or heard from him again.
Next to him, Mahto jumped to his feet and let out a quick bark. Lance pushed his hat up and out of his face. The girl who tormented his thoughts was heading his way, her skirt swaying with her brisk steps along the narrow trail that led from the ranch buildings to this secluded spot. Her coppery hair flowed behind her in the breeze. The eager glow on her face sent a rush of longing through him, along with the irrational thought that Ellie smiled for him alone.
Lance shook his head. He had no business thinking of her as anything other than the boss’ niece, someone he’d agreed to tutor in sign talk. Even that was a bad idea. Among his mother’s people, he’d already overstepped the boundaries of what was considered proper courtship. A young man was not allowed to be alone in the presence of a young woman who wasn’t his relative. The same held true in the white man’s world. Clearly his mother and father had broken those rules, too, but he’d be kidding himself if anything could ever come of his association with Ellie.
Cursing under his breath, Lance stood and wiped loose leaves and grass from his britches, then headed for the two horses still grazing by the creek. He’d take her riding as planned and teach her a few more signs, then tell her he couldn’t tutor her anymore.
Ellie waved and nodded in greeting, then held her notebook out to him, pointing at the words she’d already written.
I’m sorry I’m late. Had to wait for my aunt to fall asleep.
She glanced from him to the horses, looking almost surprised that he’d remembered and kept his word about going riding.
“I take it you know how to ride astride?”
She nodded, her smile widening. She raised her hands, making the signs that meant she loved horses.
“I figured while we see the surrounding hills on horseback, I can show you some more signs.” Lance tightened the cinch of the saddle horse he’d chosen for Ellie to ride. “My grandfather always said learning is best done when you involve all your senses, not simply by being told information.”
She came up next to him, patting the horse’s neck. Lance glanced at her, his muscles tensing when their eyes met. She was studying him, just as he was taking in everything about her. The faint smile and the eagerness in her gaze was so unlike the first time he’d seen her, when she was afraid and suspicious of him. Few people had ever looked at him the way she did, past the color of his skin.
The soft fragrance of her perfume drifted in the breeze, further heightening his awareness of the woman standing so close beside him. Her smiling eyes and the subtle shifts of her body spoke to him louder than if she’d called out. For the first time, he wasn’t part Indian or part white, but a whole man.
Lance forced his attention back to the horse and saddle. Ellie’s infatuation with him was plain to see in her eyes, but was it for the right reasons? He’d seen her loneliness the day he’d met her on the ranch house porch and returned her notebook, and her look of relief and gratefulness that he’d understood her sign talk.
If he wasn’t careful, he’d reveal what he was fighting so hard to keep hidden. Nothing could come of his attraction for a white woman, something he’d never given any thought to before. With exaggerated movements, he checked the stirrups to see if they were fitted to her height. Then he stepped aside to give her room to mount the horse.
“You sure you want to do this?”
Ellie tilted her head to look up at him. A fleeting glimpse of uncertainty passed through her eyes. She hesitated slightly before she nodded.
“You know we’ll both be in a heap of trouble if we’re found out, right? You shouldn’t be riding off, unchaperoned, with someone who’s practically a stranger.” Or with an Indian savage.
Ellie smiled and nodded. A shimmer of mischief and excitement sparkled in her eyes.
The corners of his lips twitched in a slight grin.
She was like a young horse, chomping at the bit and pawing at its stall door to be let out of confinement and allowed to run free.
She reached for the saddle horn and placed her foot in the stirrup. His hands were at her waist faster than he could blink, lifting her to give her a boost as she swung her leg over the horse’s back. Lance didn’t let go until she’d adjusted her skirts and her foot was securely in the stirrup.
She glanced down at him with wide eyes. Her cheeks had taken on a rosy color, and her spine stiffened. She was probably holding her breath, too. Lance dropped his hands away, the sensation of her body heat through the fabric of her dress still lingering on his fingers. He handed her the reins to the horse. Before he stepped away, she pointed at her notebook that she’d dropped in the grass.
“We’ll leave this here.” He spoke the words while making the signs, then picked up the notebook and set it by the tree.
Ellie shook her head, pointing to the notebook when he returned to take up the reins to his own horse. Her eyes widened with uncertainty.
“Don’t use your written words as a crutch. You’ll learn the signs faster if you’re forced to rely on them alone to communicate, just as it is easier learning a new language when you’re not allowed to speak your own.”
Lance swung up into the saddle. He gritted his teeth at the memories his comment conjured. The truth of his words was only too familiar.
He guided his horse next to hers and led them through the creek and into the hills.
“Why did you follow your uncle to the barn the other morning?”
His question pierced the silence between them. While he’d asked her to make the signs for the plants and animals they’d encountered along the way, and shown her how to express some basic ideas, his thoughts had been elsewhere. She knew enough to get by, but the Cheyenne woman hadn’t taught her how to effectively convey more complex thoughts.
She stared at him, her forehead scrunched. She shook her head, uncertainty in her eyes.
�
��Try to answer. You know the signs for the things around you. Now it’s time to express your thoughts through your hands.” At least it was a good enough excuse for his question.
Ellie hesitated, then made the sign for work and dropping something, pointing at him and then at herself.
“You think I would have lost my job because of what happened to you with Hank and Fred?”
Ellie tapped her fingers against her left breast, then ran her hand down the side of her face as if she was combing her hair, finishing the sign with her index and middle finger held to her lip - the signs meaning ‘mother’s sister’.
“Your aunt.”
Ellie nodded, her smile fading. Fiona Patterson clearly cared for her niece and was only trying to look out for her best interest. No doubt the woman would influence her husband to get rid of Lance if she thought her niece had been threatened in any way.
Lance reined his horse to a stop when they reached a sunny clearing and a lean-to came into view between several trees. He cursed under his breath. It was time to get back to the ranch, and end this pretense. Instead, he’d led her directly to his camp, his place of privacy and solitude.
Where are we? She signed, and moved to dismount her horse.
Lance threw his right leg over his horse’s neck and dismounted, coming around the back of the horse to help Ellie from the saddle. If he had any sense, he’d be telling her there was no need to get down, that they weren’t stopping here long enough.
Her hair tickled his cheek as she slid from the saddle. He held her at the waist until her feet made contact with the ground. She turned and smiled at him, her cheeks taking on color again. Lance held her gaze, drowning in her soft eyes. Heat seared through his fingers where they made contact with her. He abruptly let go as if he’d been burned and took a step back.
“I live here,” he said, almost gruffly, not so much to answer her question, but to remind himself that they came from different worlds.
Chapter Nine
Ellie patted her horse’s neck and stepped away from its side, and away from Lance. Her forehead scrunched at the sudden gruffness in his voice. She looked at the ground to hide her surprise that he didn’t stay at the ranch after the day’s work was done, but instead chose to live in the woods by himself.
Getting to know him a little over the last two days had given her a glimpse into the kind of man he was. She’d already known that he cared deeply for horses and his dog, simply by watching him that first day with the horse in the round pen. He was observant, he listened, and he cared about the animals. Those same traits spilled over into his ability to read her so easily.
When he’d challenged her earlier by saying that going riding with him alone was a bad idea, his easy grin had given her a glimpse that he wasn’t always the quiet and serious man he liked to portray. He clearly didn’t care to be around people, but it was easy to guess his reason. She’d seen enough prejudice against the Indians at Fort Peck. Just as she was always isolated from others because she had no voice, the same was true of Lance for being of mixed blood.
His job was jeopardized by her selfishness for asking him to spend time with her and teach her sign, yet he’d agreed to do it anyway. Ellie’s infatuation with Lance Taggart had steadily grown over the last few days, ever since he’d returned her notebook. It didn’t matter that he was part Indian. He was the first person who hadn’t dismissed her, or worse, pitied her, after finding out she couldn’t talk. He’d challenged her today, because he truly seemed to care that she should learn how to effectively communicate.
Not that it really mattered. Other than Lance, no one else would understand her. Uncle John might be open to the idea of learning some of the signs, but Aunt Fiona was as hard-headed as her father.
Her hand rested against her waist where Lance had held her a moment ago. Her skin tingled, sending a warm ripple through her limbs. Ellie stepped further away from the horse and glanced around the clearing. A simple shelter stood near the edge of the forest. It appeared to be constructed out of logs and tree branches and was just large enough for a man to lie down and have a roof over his head. It was covered with leaves and several animal hides and a fire pit sat a short distance away. She turned to face Lance.
You live here? She motioned with her hands.
He nodded. The muscles along his jaw tensed as he studied her, no doubt looking for a reaction of disapproval. She smiled, glancing around the quiet meadow.
It’s so peaceful here. I don’t blame you for wanting to be away from everyone at the ranch and having your own place.
Ellie struggled with the signs, frustration welling in her that she didn’t have her notebook. How did he expect her to put such complex thoughts into hand motions?
Lance stepped up to her. He reached for her hand that she held fisted in front of her, trying to remember the sign for ‘alone’. His warm palm wrapped around her fingers and guided her hand toward her neck, then made a wavy motion away from her body.
“Yes, l like being alone.” His eyes locked on hers. He stood close enough to feel the warmth from his body, speaking in an almost sensual tone. His hand still held hers as he answered her question.
Ellie’s breath caught in her throat. He might have said he preferred being alone, but there was so much loneliness expressed in his dark eyes. She didn’t dare move and break the invisible contact. Her heart drummed in her chest and pulsed at her temples.
Her reaction to him was so new, so different from anything she’d ever felt for anyone, and no doubt so wrong in her father’s and aunt’s eyes. Her forehead scrunched and she shook her head.
Why should it matter what they thought? All her life she’d been held back from living fully because something beyond her control had happened. She’d been deemed incapable of thinking on her own because she couldn’t voice her thoughts or properly stand up for herself. Yet, in front of her stood a man who paid attention, and who listened.
Lance had been holding her hand until now, but abruptly, he released it, as if he’d read where her thoughts were heading.
Just because you are drawn to him doesn’t mean he returns those feelings, Ellie. A moment ago he said he likes being alone.
She pulled her eyes away and looked around the clearing. The slight afternoon breeze cooled her flushed cheeks. Close by, her horse snorted contently as it cropped the tall meadow grasses. Ellie swiped at some loose strands of hair that tickled her face.
“The bunkhouse is too loud for me. And Mahto wasn’t welcome there.”
Ellie’s eyes lifted back to Lance. Why would he elaborate on his answer? She absently stroked the dog’s head. Lance’s grin sent another wave of awareness through her. She nodded, and gestured with her hands.
I understand. I hope those two men don’t cause you trouble.
Lance chuckled. “Stubbs sent them to ride fence several miles from the ranch. They won’t be back for at least a week. I’m glad they’re not around to bother you anymore.”
Ellie smiled. Her signs were a vague representation of what she wanted to say, but he understood, because he paid attention, and because he had an uncanny ability to read her thoughts. Did he also know that she had feelings for him?
As if in answer to her question, Lance reached for his horse’s reins.
“We ought to get back to the ranch. We’ve been gone so long, your aunt’s gonna know you snuck off.”
Leaving this peaceful clearing and returning to the ranch was the last thing on her mind, but Ellie nodded in agreement. It wouldn’t look good for Lance if they were caught out here together. She’d barely reached for the saddle horn and stepped foot into the stirrup when his warm hands held her at the waist to assist her onto the horse.
All too soon, he released her, leaving a cold feeling where his hands had been a moment ago. Wordlessly, he swung onto his gelding’s back and headed back toward the ranch. He led the way along a trail that overlooked the vast valley that spread out before them, surrounded by hills dotted with dark swatches of fo
rest. If she strained her eyes, she could make out the ranch buildings in the distance. After some time of riding in silence, he pulled his horse alongside hers.
“What happened that you lost your ability to speak, Ellie?”
The question came out of nowhere. Ellie’s hand instinctively reached for the high collar on her dress. Her finger ran along the edge of the fabric. She’d long ago grown accustomed to the confining material, as if she were wearing a chain around her neck that kept her from acting freely and of her own will.
With one hand, she drew back on the reins. Her horse stopped. Lance raised a surprised brow as he glanced over his shoulder, then brought his gelding up alongside her. Ellie turned in the saddle to fully look at the man who’d given her a small glimpse at freedom.
Before he could react, Ellie dismounted. His question was not something she could answer while seated atop a horse. She dropped her mount’s reins and stared off at the distant mountains.
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
Ellie’s breath caught in her throat. Lance had come up behind her, silent as a stalking cougar. She blinked back the fuzzy images that lived buried in her mind. For years, they hadn’t surfaced because she’d refused to think about them.
She’d overcome the horrible nightmares that had plagued her many years ago. No one, not even her father, had wanted to listen to what had really happened, and no one had heard her silent screams at night when the nightmares came. The doctor at the fort had reassured her that the bad dreams would go away in time. He’d been right. The nightmares had gone away as the years passed, and she’d endured them in silence, because no one had wanted to know the truth.
Ellie lifted her hands to her neck. With trembling fingers, she worked the buttons loose on her high collar. Slowly, she turned to face Lance and parted the opening of her dress to expose her neck. His forehead scrunched as their eyes met. He darted a quick glance at her hands, then back to her face.
In His Kiss: Blemished Brides, Book 4 Page 7