In His Kiss: Blemished Brides, Book 4

by Peggy L Henderson

  When everyone’s plates were empty, she stood and gathered the dishes to take to the kitchen.

  “These can wait, Ellie,” Aunt Fiona said, but Ellie shook her head. She had to get away.

  She carried the dishes to the kitchen and glanced out the window. From here, there was no view of the barns, only Aunt Fiona’s vegetable garden. She leaned against the counter and swiped her hand across her forehead. Perhaps it wasn’t Maureen and Frances who were the problem. Living all these years at the outpost had given her so little opportunity to learn how to make small-talk with other women. Maybe she just needed to sit and follow her guests’ conversations and chime in with a written pleasantry every now and then.

  Ellie smoothed her dress and raised her chin, then made her way back to the dining room to rejoin the others and finish her cup of coffee. Perhaps she needed to make a greater effort to join in the conversation.

  “Well, I don’t see how she’s ever going to fit in. She just sits there like a little mouse. It’s rather cumbersome having to look at a piece of paper and read someone’s response. It makes for rather clumsy conversation.” Maureen’s loud voice drifted down the hall. Ellie froze.

  “I admit, it’s been a challenge, but she’s my sister’s daughter, after all. She’s still adjusting to life here. I’m afraid Edward’s spoiled her by letting her do whatever she wanted at the fort.” Aunt Fiona sounded concerned, but also seemed to agree with the younger woman.

  “Her prospects of ever finding a husband do seem rather slim, what with her inability to communicate properly. She does seem a bit slow, as you mentioned to me last week.”

  “That’s what I worry about, too, Alma.”

  Aunt Fiona’s friend chuckled. “Of course, there are probably men who wouldn’t mind a quiet wife. My Albert always tells me I talk too much and don’t know when to keep my mouth shut, that silly man. A woman is entitled to have an opinion, after all. Didn’t we get granted the right to vote? Times have changed. It’s not like years ago, girls, when women had no say in business matters.”

  Maureen giggled. “Mother might envy you, Mrs. Patterson. She always tells me she has no peace with all the men who come calling on me. I doubt your niece will have many suitors knocking at your door. There could be a man out there who might prefer a quiet woman, but the ones who’ve courted me have told me they appreciate that I am smart and educated. Men today want to be able to talk to their wives intelligently, and with Eleanor being slow and not having had any proper schooling . . .”

  Ellie blinked to clear her blurred vision. She tiptoed back into the kitchen and pulled open the back door. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she gulped in some fresh air and ran past the vegetable garden.

  She headed in the direction of the barns, but instead of following the main path, she veered off into the tall grasses and ran for the creek where she could be alone and hide among the trees that lined the banks.

  Anger, hurt, and sadness flooded her. She’d been lonely at Fort Peck all these years, but nothing was as overwhelming as the feeling of despair that swept through her at this moment.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lance tightened the cinch around his mustang gelding’s girth and gave the horse a pat on the neck. Mahto pranced and panted between the larger animal’s legs without a care. He wagged his tail, his eyes following Lance’s every move.

  “Ready to head back to camp, are you?” Lance patted his dog’s head. “Time to call it a day.”

  He glanced over his shoulder toward the ranch house. Clearly he had no willpower where Ellie was concerned. Four days without so much as a glimpse of her ought to have cured him of his attraction to her. If anything, getting thrown from a horse the day before should have knocked some sense into him. It seemed to have done the opposite. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  His head was telling him he’d done the right thing by riding away, but his heart was saying something completely different, and the more time passed, the louder his heart spoke to him. He’d almost given in and gone to the house to talk to her, to see if she’d ever want anything more to do with him.

  She hadn’t been to the barns since the day he’d told her he could no longer teach her. Either she was rightfully angry with him, or Fiona Patterson was keeping a close eye on her. Lance shook his head and smiled at his dog, who watched him as if he could read his mind.

  “If she’d wanted to leave the house and talk to us, she would have found a way, like before.”

  Mahto barked as if in agreement. Ellie had a naturally inquisitive mind, adventurous spirit, and an eagerness to learn. Fiona Patterson wouldn’t be able to keep her cooped up in the house forever, so it must have been Ellie’s own choice to stay away. At least she’d probably come to her senses and figured it was for the best, whereas his mind was a jumbled mess.

  There had been a buggy at the house earlier, and three women had come to visit. Apparently, Ellie was making new friends, which was a good thing. If she was socializing with other women, it wouldn’t be long before she’d meet a man more suitable for her.

  He scoffed. More suitable in her aunt’s and father’s eyes.

  Lance kicked at the dirt, causing Mahto to bark again. Why the hell did it have to be this way? Why couldn’t he live like any other man, without anyone judging him for his skin being too light or too dark? If only his grandfather were still alive, so he could ask his advice. The old man had never judged him, even though Lance’s mother had disgraced her father for having a child without a husband, and by a white man no less.

  Lance gathered his horse’s reins and lifted his foot into the stirrup. Time to head to camp and stop thinking about her. Better yet, maybe it was time to move on permanently. He nudged his chin at his dog.

  “It’s better this way.”

  “What’s better what way?”

  Lance lowered his foot at Stubbs’ out-of-breath voice behind him. He turned to face his boss. The stubby man glanced up at him with his head cocked to the side and eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  “Ain’t it a bit early for you to be leavin’? Cook’s ain’t even rung the supper bell yet.”

  “I thought I’d find my own supper today,” Lance murmured. “No offense to Cook’s beans and stew.”

  Stubbs snickered. “Can’t blame you for that. Maybe if you get somethin’ different to eat for a change, your mind’ll be on business again and you won’t be mopin’ around like your head’s a thousand miles away.” He paused, his eyes shooting daggers at him. “It’s Miss Eleanor, ain’t it?”

  Lance peeled his hat from his head and raked his fingers through his hair. He stared at the ground for a moment, then back at his boss.

  “I’m not pursuing her,” he grumbled through clenched teeth. “I know full-well I’ve overstepped my bounds.” He scoffed. “I’m just the hired hand, and a man of mixed blood to boot.”

  An almost sympathetic look passed over Stubbs’ usually hard features. He stepped closer and raised his hand to pat Lance on the arm. Before he could respond, a loud female voice called from the direction of the house.

  “I’ve looked everywhere, John. I’m telling you, she’s not in the house. If she’s out here and hurt, she can’t very well call for help.”

  Fiona Patterson marched down the lane toward the barns, her skirt swishing around her legs. Her husband was trying to keep pace with her quick strides.

  “What happened at your little get-together with Alma Wilkins and her daughter? Wasn’t Ellie with you this afternoon?”

  Fiona waved an annoyed hand in front of her. “Of course she was with us. She excused herself for a moment, and then she didn’t come back. Alma, Maureen, and Frances thought it best to leave when I couldn’t find her. I had to make excuses for Eleanor’s disappearance. They thought they might have overstayed their welcome.”

  Even from a distance, the skeptical look on John Patterson’s face was clear to see when he said, “Maybe they did.”

  Fiona huffed, then her eyes fell to where
Lance and Stubbs stood. Her pace increased. She marched straight for him, holding up a familiar-looking notebook, waving it in front of her.

  “You’re the man I need to see,” she proclaimed before coming to a stop in front of Lance. “Explain yourself.”

  Lance frowned. He glanced from Stubbs to John Patterson, then back to the woman staring daggers at him.

  “I’m not sure I understand, ma’am. Explain myself about what?”

  Fiona opened the notebook, leafing through the pages.

  “This.”

  She held up the notebook, shoving it so close to Lance’s face he needed to lean back slightly to get a better view of the drawing on the page. A drawing of his likeness. The fleeting thought that Ellie was a talented artist was quickly replaced by a feeling of warmth that rushed through his limbs and seemed to fill his entire being. Why would Ellie draw his portrait, and take such care to get every detail right? She must have spent hours on it, and from every line and shadowing of her pencil strokes, the artist’s fondness and care of her subject was plain as day to see.

  “What do you have to say about this?” Mrs. Patterson demanded. “There are other sketches in here that depict you, as well.”

  Lance’s eyes still roamed over the drawing of him when the woman abruptly shut the notebook and withdrew it from under his nose. He looked first at her husband, who stood next to her, shaking his head. John Patterson opened his mouth to speak, but Lance beat him to it.

  “What I have to say is that your niece is a gifted artist.” Lance stared at the woman. Next to him, Stubbs cleared his throat with a loud cough.

  “Where is she?” Fiona demanded. “Clearly, you’ve been filling Eleanor’s head with silly notions about talking with her hands, and I won’t stand for it. You’ve misled her to think that she’ll be able to carry on a normal conversation with people.” Mrs. Patterson leaned forward, her glare intensifying. “Eleanor is very dear to me. She has special needs, and I will not have some half . . . a man like you taking advantage of her. Now, if you have any idea where she might have gone off to, do us both a favor and tell me.”

  Lance frowned. The only special needs Ellie had were to be out from under her aunt’s influence.

  “Advantage?”

  “It’s plain to see you’ve been attempting to charm my niece into some false notion. She’s infatuated with you, which I can’t understand, considering that your kind killed my sister.”

  Anger swelled in him. “That’s not what Ellie told me,” Lance blurted, his eyes on the woman making accusations against him.

  “So you admit that you’ve been seeing her? Where is she? What have you done with her?”

  “I haven’t seen Ellie in four days, ma’am. I haven’t done anything with her.”

  Fiona Patterson’s eyes widened. She shot a glaring look at her husband. “I told you this man was at fault for Eleanor’s behavior, didn’t I?”

  John Patterson stepped forward. “Lance has been working horses, Fiona. If he’d seen Ellie at all, I would have noticed.” To Lance, he added, “Ellie’s been missing for – near as we can tell – a couple of hours. Has anyone seen her wandering around the horse pens or barns?” He looked from Lance to Stubbs.

  “Haven’t seen her, but we’ll sure help to find the young lady,” Stubbs offered. He directed questioning eyes at Lance. No doubt the foreman wondered if Lance had something to do with her disappearance. It would look rather suspicious to Stubbs that he’d chosen this, of all days, to leave the ranch early.

  Lance gazed off in the direction of the cottonwood grove along the creek that flowed well beyond the last outbuilding. Ellie had gone to find solitude there before, and it was where he’d met her the two times he’d come to teach her sign talk. No doubt she’d gone there again to be alone. He straightened, then faced John Patterson.

  “I have been seeing your niece, Mr. Patterson.”

  Fiona’s mouth opened and her eyes widened. Lance kept his focus on her husband and continued before she could interrupt.

  “She asked me to help her, to teach her what she hadn’t learned from the Cheyenne woman who taught her sign talk before. I met with her twice, then told her I couldn’t help her anymore.” He glanced at Fiona Patterson. “I didn’t think it was appropriate.”

  Fiona glared at him. “You’re most certainly correct that it wasn’t appropriate. It’s no wonder she seems so out of sorts. Her father told me before bringing her to stay with us what an easy-going young woman she is, and she was, until she met you.”

  Lance clenched his jaw. It wouldn’t matter what he said to Fiona Patterson in his defense. It didn’t matter that he had nothing to do with what had happened to Ellie or her mother. Fiona had already judged and condemned him simply based on his skin color. Clearly, Ellie had moved on from her ordeal as a child, but her father and aunt hadn’t let go.

  “I think I know where she might have gone.” Lance addressed John Patterson again, then turned to his horse and stepped into the stirrup. “I’ll find her and bring her back.”

  Patterson hesitated, then nodded. “We’ll keep looking for her around the ranch.” He glanced up at the sky. “It’s going to be dark in an hour, and it looks like we might get more rain.”

  “John, you should go with him.” Fiona Patterson grabbed her husband’s arm. “Eleanor could have gotten lost. If she’s wandered off, she’s alone and scared out there.”

  “Lance will find her without my help. We’d just be wasting more time if I have to saddle up a horse.” To Lance, Patterson said, “Go and find my niece, Taggart.”

  Lance nodded and rode off, but not before catching the warning glare in Fiona Patterson’s eyes. If his hunch was correct, he wouldn’t have far to go before he found Ellie.

  Mahto ran ahead of him, barking as if he knew where Ellie had gone. When they neared the creek, however, the dog gave no indication that she was nearby. He had his nose to the ground near the creek bank, then splashed through the water.

  Lance dismounted, keeping his eyes on the dirt and grasses near the water’s edge. Fresh tracks left by small shoes made impressions in the soft soil from yesterday’s rains. They ended at the flowing water. Lance raised his head beyond the creek into the hills.

  “What are you up to, Ellie?” he murmured. He leapt onto his horse and guided the gelding through the water. Mahto was already a good distance in front.

  The sky had darkened considerably by the time the ranch buildings were no longer visible. He followed the same trail he’d used to bring Ellie back to the ranch four days ago. It wasn’t the same trail he would have chosen to get to his camp in the woods, but it was the only trail she knew.

  Thunder rumbled in the distance, and a strong gust of cold wind whipped around his head. Lance urged his horse forward. If she’d left the ranch two hours ago, she could have reached his camp by now, even on foot. By the time he neared the woods and the clearing where he’d built his lean-to, Mahto yipped excitedly. A second later, his shelter came into view, along with his dog dancing happily around Ellie’s legs.

  She bent forward, reaching for the dog and patting his head. One of Lance’s blankets was wrapped around her shoulders. She glanced up as he rode into camp, the smile on her face fading as their eyes met.

  “Your aunt is worried about you.” He stopped his horse in front of her and dismounted.

  Ellie shook her head. She averted her eyes, paying attention to the dog again before she fully straightened to face him. Her eyes were red and puffy. A twinge of anger rushed through him as his mind raced through many possibilities of why she would have been upset enough to run off crying into the hills.

  “What happened?” He stepped up to her. He raised his hand and grazed his fingers along her arm.

  She blinked quickly, but fresh tears pooled in her eyes. Her lips pressed together and she swiped a hasty hand across her face.

  “If you wanted to see me, you didn’t have to come all this way.” In an effort to lighten the mood, Lance’s lips w
idened in a smile. “You could have talked to me at the barns.”

  She made the sign meaning discarding something.

  You no longer wanted to see me.

  Lance inhaled a deep breath. “It’s for the best, Ellie. Your aunt isn’t too happy that I’ve spent any time with you.”

  I don’t care about what she thinks. I believed you were different from her and my father. I thought that you understood.

  Lance scoffed. He made the hand motions to accompany his words. “I am different from them, but I don’t want you getting hurt because you’re in the company of someone like me.”

  Ellie slowly moved her head from side to side. Her eyes locked on his and he couldn’t have looked away if his life had depended on it. The powerful pull she’d had on him from the moment he’d first laid eyes on her became stronger than ever. Slowly, she raised her hand to her chest, then moved it to the right and then the left, repeating what he’d told her four days ago, when he’d ridden away.

  Because you’re a half-breed. You think I care about that?

  She took a step closer, staring up into his eyes. Her hand lifted to his cheek, her fingers feather-light as they grazed along his jaw. Lance didn’t move. He couldn’t. Her soft touch on his skin seared his entire being. She swayed forward slightly and stood on her toes, then pressed her lips to his.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ellie’s heart pounded fiercely in response to her impulsive move to kiss Lance. She’d never kissed a man before, but she’d seen it done several times at the fort. Wagons had sometimes traveled through the outpost, which had included women who’d been called ‘camp followers’ passing through on their way to the mining camps. The soldiers, especially the unmarried ones, had always eagerly awaited their arrival.

  She wasn’t so naïve not to know that these women did more than launder the troops’ dirty clothes or cook meals, but they provided other services to the men. Her father had always told her to stay away from the likes of them. Would Lance now think of her as one of those women?