by Zina Abbott
Kizzie blushed at his declaration, and Leander’s smile broadened. They both turned as a hand pressed on Leander’s shoulder. Mrs. Prescott stepped to their sides. Looking between Kizzie and Leander, she smiled before she addressed Leander. “I see you have met our Miss Atwell, Mr. Jones.”
“Yes. Miss Atwell and I are acquainted. We have done business together.”
Mrs. Prescott raised a questioning eyebrow. “Business?”
Kizzie quickly clarified. “He finds my horse interesting, Mrs. Prescott. His stallion and my mare do well together. As a result we have already met.”
Mrs. Prescott cast them both an appraising eye. “I see. Well, Mr. Jones, please keep in mind she is available for only one dance per gentleman. We have far more men than women present and we need our young ladies to give every young man an opportunity to dance.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“However, you may be interested in participating in our special fund-raiser just before our late supper buffet. It will involve both the Miss Atwells.”
Kizzie blinked in surprise. Special fund-raiser that involved her? What did the captain’s wife have in mind? “Um…Mrs. Prescott, I’m not sure what you are talking about. What special fund-raiser?”
The older woman reached over and patted Kizzie’s arm. “Oh, it will be all in fun and very proper. I will keep it a surprise for now.”
The two watched their hostess walk away before they turned towards each other again. Leander spoke first. “Are you promised for this dance, Kizzie?” After she shook her head, he took her by the hand and started towards the dance floor. “Then I’ll ask to dance with you now. With you being in such high demand for the evening, I don’t want to lose my chance to hold you in my arms. I warn you, though. I don’t dance very well.”
“It doesn’t matter, Leander.” On the dance floor they assumed the proper position although the best they managed was to shift from one foot to the other. “When will you leave for Fort Union?”
“Within a couple of weeks. Don’t worry. I’ll stop by on our way out. I have an important question to ask your father.”
“If it’s about breeding Sugarcone again, the answer is not yet. I want to wait until next spring.”
Leander met her gaze with a hint of a smile. “No, it’s not that. I have another matter in mind.”
“Oh.” Kizzie shrugged and looked off into the distance.
“I don’t know how many more years I will be transporting freight by wagon train. I look forward to maybe not doing it anymore.”
His statement caught Kizzie’s attention and she turned back to face him. “I thought you like what you are doing.”
“I do. I like being my own boss on the trail with only my father back home to answer to. That is why I agreed to haul freight for the Army, to do my part to support them without enlisting and finding myself subjected to every whim from some full-of-himself West Point officer like some of these gentlemen ordering me about.” Leander nodded in the general direction of the men in dark blue that danced with the ladies in their colorful gowns. “But, rumor is, the railroad will be coming through Kansas soon. Once it does, there will probably be very little call for freighting by wagon to Colorado. It may take longer for the railroad to connect with Fort Union. But, there will come a time I will be ready to settle and stay in one place most of the time.”
“Do you think once the trains come they will get most of the freighting business?”
Leander nodded. “Yes, I do. Railroad travel is much quicker, and may even be cheaper. My father has been looking into it so we are prepared for any changes that may come along.”
“That sounds forward-thinking.”
Leander captured Kizzie’s eyes with his. “There are some matters for which I have always been forward-thinking. I hope in the end they work out as I have planned.”
The music ended. Leander placed Kizzie’s hand on his forearm and led her to the edge of the room to stand next to Hannah. Reluctantly he released her. “I will see you later, Kizzie, at the buffet supper or perhaps before, depending on what Mrs. Prescott has in mind.”
Kizzie swallowed the tears she felt starting to threaten her. She didn’t want to leave Leander’s side. “Please don’t leave tonight without bidding me good-by, Leander.”
CHAPTER 14
After her dance with Leander, Kizzie could barely concentrate enough to carry on decent conversations with the officers who led her onto the dance floor. As her partners spun her in time to the music her eyes sought him out standing against the wall. Each time she saw him, she noticed his eyes always watched her. Trapped between the obligation to conduct herself properly with her dance partners and her desire to communicate across the room with Leander, all she could do was wish for the dancing to end. She looked forward to the supper buffet where she might again have an opportunity to speak to him.
Kizzie sighed with relief as she witness the musicians put their instruments away in their cases. Next, Mrs. Prescott clapped her hands above her head to draw everyone’s attention. Once the room quieted she spoke. “Gentlemen, as I told you earlier, I have planned a special treat as part of our fund-raiser. Remember, I warned you to bring extra money because you won’t want to miss this next event. And, it is all in fun and for a good cause, to help our fallen soldiers through providing funds raised tonight for the Sanitary Commission.”
A buzz of interest surged through the room until Mrs. Prescott once again clapped her hands. “I know many of you young officers have noticed the lovely young ladies who have joined us tonight. I’m sure you have enjoyed the opportunity to dance with real women rather than with some of you who have a scarf tied on your arm.”
A deep chuckle rumbled through the room. Kizzie had heard of the practice used at dances where there were far more men than women. Some of the men would tie a bandanna or scarf on their arm to signal they were dancing the woman’s part as two men danced together.
Mrs. Prescott continued. “I also know some of you lament the lack of suitable women to claim as sweethearts. While I don’t promise you that tonight, I have organized a game in which you may pay for the privilege to claim a chaste sweetheart’s kiss from one or more of these young ladies.”
This time the undercurrent of comments came from both the men and the women. Kizzie tensed up as she tried to figure out what Mrs. Prescott was up to. She had agreed to come for the dancing. No one had said anything about letting a strange man kiss her. If any man was going to kiss her, there was only one she wanted to place his lips on hers. She glanced over towards Hannah. Much to her dismay, she realized her cousin was interested in this latest development—in a positive way.
Mrs. Prescott kept speaking. “However, gentlemen, it will cost you—all for our glorious cause, of course. And all are expected to honor the rules I set forth so as to not embarrass any of these young ladies who are being good sports by participating.”
Kizzie’s face scrunched into a sullen frown. Since when did she agree to be a good sport about something like this?
“Both the gentlemen and the lady will clasp their hands behind their own backs. There will be no physical contact between them except for a chaste kiss on the lips. No more than one kiss per young lady. And, gentlemen, there will be no attempt to part any young woman’s lips or I have been assured by Captain Prescott the offender will immediately be removed from the ballroom and will spend the balance of the evening in the stockade. Is that clear?”
A low grumble of disappointment echoed through the room.
Mrs. Prescott raised her fist which held several slips of papers above her head. “Now, I have tickets!”
Kizzie watched Mrs. Prescott as she did a brisk business of selling tickets to the gentlemen who crowded around her. She noticed that Leander joined the back of the pack. Since each man could only kiss each woman one time, she wondered how many tickets he was buying.
Kizzie’s doubts about Mrs. Prescott’s fund-raiser intensified. She didn’t want any of these men ki
ssing her, not even for a good cause. She sure didn’t want to watch Leander kissing any of the other women in the room. She hiked up the skirt of her gown prepared to leave the room.
Kizzie felt a hand on her arm restraining her. She jerked her head around to see Mrs. Prescott wearing a concerned look on her face. “Oh, please don’t leave us, dear.” She reached to grab Hannah’s arm since the expression on Hannah’s face signaled she was reluctantly ready to follow Kizzie. “I know I sort of sprung this on you ladies at the last minute. However, it will mean so much to these men and our cause for which we are raising funds if you will join in this little game. I have older married officers and their wives prepared to observe each couple to make sure each of our participating officers do not forget they are gentlemen. You are some of the prettiest young women here. They will be so disappointed if you leave.”
Kizzie glanced around her to see which other prettiest young woman besides Hannah Mrs. Prescott referred to. She couldn’t believe the woman meant her.
Hannah turned to her with a calculating look. “It is for a good cause, Kizzie. I think it will be all right as long as they make sure the men behave, don’t you?”
“Please, girls. Surely you’ve kissed a sweetheart behind a tree after church or school classes. This will be even more chaste than that.”
No, Kizzie had not kissed any of the boys she knew in Salina. She narrowed her eyes as she studied her cousin. The suspicion began to grow in her that Hannah desperately wanted to join in, but was only worried about what others might think. Hmm…Hannah, the perfect daughter, wasn’t interested in being so perfect after all.
Kizzie glanced around the room. Uncle Jefferson had made sure they arrived to the ballroom safely. He had spent a few minutes talking with some of the officers before he had left the girls to their own devices. Kizzie made her decision. “You’re right, Hannah. It’s for a good cause, so we’ll go along with Mrs. Prescott’s plan as long as these men behave themselves.”
Mrs. Prescott clapped her hands. “Wonderful! Yes, we will see these gentlemen remember their manners. Let’s all line up, now, and kiss for the cause.”
Mrs. Prescott positioned each single woman so there was enough space between them to allow for a chaperone couple to flank them. The older couple Kizzie drew looked less than enthusiastic about the game, so Kizzie felt increased hope she would not be subjected to any embarrassing kisses. She raised an eyebrow in surprise at the number of men who lined up in front of her to claim a kiss. There weren’t as many as in the line in front of Hannah, but almost.
Leander was not among them. She looked up and down at all the lines, but could not see him. He bought tickets, so he must intend to kiss several of the girls. Surely as one of the few men in attendance not dressed in a military uniform he would stand out. She finally spotted him leaning against a far wall with a clear view of her.
The next thing she knew, a tall young officer she remembered dancing with stepped forward to claim a kiss. Her hands clasped behind her back she leaned forward—not too far since she remained mindful of the cut of the bodice on her borrowed ball gown—and pursed her lips. The kiss was quick, cold and chase. Her first thought as the young officer stepped aside and moved towards another line was that if that was what kissing was all about, it wasn’t something she would encourage.
Officer after officer stepped forward. Several thanked her for being there with assurances her presence had made their assignment to Fort Riley memorable. A few of them thanked her for their earlier dance together. Kizzie felt her back start to pull at the unaccustomed position of leaning forward with her hands behind her back, but she had to admit kissing the men who presented themselves was not an onerous experience, no worse than pressing her lips to the side of a freshly-caught fish. It wasn’t pleasurable or exciting, but it was tolerable.
Occasional glances at Hannah assured Kizzie her cousin was thrilled with all the attention and accolades she received from the men in her line. Every time she looked for Leander, she found him standing in the same spot, his eyes trained on her.
The man bought kissing tickets. When was he going to stand in someone’s line and start claiming his kisses?
The answer came when there were only two men left standing in front of Kizzie. Her lips pursed for a kiss, she watched him saunter over to her line. A glance at his hand revealed he held only one ticket. Kizzie’s heart surged within her. He came for her. She was the only one he intended to kiss.
Anxious to fulfill her obligation to the last two ticket-holders before Leander, Kizzie could barely manage to respond to them civilly as they offered their compliments. Finally, the last stranger dressed in Army blue stepped aside and the only man before her holding a ticket was Leander Jones. All she could manage was to stare at him with her lips parted. She wondered if her desire for him was apparent in her eyes.
Leander smiled and stepped forward. “I hope you saved the best kiss for last, Kizzie.”
CHAPTER 15
Before she could respond, a commotion at the doorway caught Kizzie’s attention. Both she and Leander jerked their heads in that direction as they recognized the voice of Jefferson Atwell.
“I demand you stop this right now. What on earth is going on with my daughter and my niece kissing a room full of strangers? I won’t have it.” The man strode next to Kizzie and Hannah, his face dark with anger and his eyes shooting fire. “Hannah? Kizzie? What is the meaning of this? I thought you girls were raised better than to behave so brazenly.”
Kizzie opened her mouth to speak, more in Hannah’s defense than her own since she knew her mild-mannered cousin would get the worst of Jefferson Atwell’s wrath. She was cut off by Mrs. Prescott.
“Now, please don’t fret, Mr. Atwell.” The woman’s tittering voice grated on Kizzie’s nerves, so she could just imagine the effect it had on her uncle. “This was organized all in fun and managed in good taste, all for a good cause. You do want to support our boys in uniform who have sacrificed so much for their country and now languish sick and injured in some hospital, don’t you?”
Kizzie shared a glance with Hannah. They both understood that even though Mrs. Prescott was a force to be reckoned with, her attempt at wheedling an agreement was a lost cause. Her antics might have worked on Sidney Atwell. However, if she thought she could mollify Jefferson Atwell, she was in for a rude awakening.
“Madame, I don’t care how worthy your cause may be. There is nothing in good taste about my daughter and my niece kissing a room full of men with whom they have a casual acquaintance, at best.” He turned to Kizzie and Hannah. “Come girls, as far as you are concerned, this kissing fiasco is over.”
Hannah hurried over to take her father’s arm while Kizzie followed close behind. She heard grumbling about being cheated from the men remaining in Hannah’s line. She looked over her shoulder to see Leander still standing in the same place holding his ticket in his hand as he watched her leave the room. She watched him smile as she mouthed to him. “I’m sorry.”
Kizzie bit her lip to keep from speaking as she followed her uncle outside and listened to her cousin try to explain to him why they agreed to the kissing game. She couldn’t fault her uncle too much. After all, she had experienced her own reservations about the fund-raiser until she realized Hannah wanted to participate. But, of all the rotten luck, why did Uncle Jefferson have to put an end to it just before she was going to kiss Leander Jones?
Kizzie ignored her cousin until Hannah pointed out there was still the buffet supper to attend. “Please, Papa, let us go. You come, too, since there will be good food to eat. I promise, other than being polite, I won’t encourage any attention from the men who will be there. You’ll be there to make sure we behave.”
Kizzie sighed with relief when her uncle agreed. Maybe, at least, she would see Leander at the buffet and she could tell him how sorry she was he was cheated out of his kiss.
As they approached the building where the food had been set out, something restrained Kizzie from
going in right away. The corset squeezed her ribs until they ached. The bodice that just barely covered her bosom prompted in her the desire to tug up the front of her dress. The dancing slippers Mrs. Prescott had found to go with the gown had been hurting her feet for at least an hour. What she wouldn’t give to ditch the corset and have her comfortable boots to slip into under her skirt.
Kizzie realized she needed a few minutes to herself. “Uncle, I need to go to the ladies’ retiring room for a few minutes. Mrs. Prescott showed us where it is. I’ll be right back.”
Jefferson turned and studied his niece. If there was one thing that put most men off from saying too much, it was the thought of the women’s retiring room. Her uncle was no exception. “All right, Kizzie. Hurry back when you finish. No side trips, you hear me?” Kizzie watched her uncle turn back around and shake his head. She smiled as she heard his grumble. “Daughters. I should have made Sidney be the one to come here and deal with this.”
To give herself a few minutes away from the glare of lights and the crush of warm bodies, Kizzie turned to walk towards the back door of the Prescott home, confident that with the light shining through the window of the building next door where the festivities were being held she could follow the path without a lantern or candle.
“Kizzie. It’s me.”
Kizzie froze and jerked her head up. Her eyes searched the darkness in the direction from whence she had heard the familiar voice. As soon as she saw Leander step out in front of the tree he had been hiding behind, she picked up the skirt of her gown and rushed towards him as fast as she dared, hoping in the dark she wouldn’t trip over a tree root or a stone. “Leander. You’re still here.”
Leander wrapped his hands around her bare arms just below her sleeves to steady her as he pulled her towards him. “Of course I’m still here. I haven’t gotten my kiss I paid for.”
Kizzie stepped closer, smiling into his face. “You still want to kiss me?”