Copyright
ISBN 1-58660-625-5
© 2002 by Joyce Livingston. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Truly Yours, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.
All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
The scene involving the Indians is loosely based on an incident that took place on June 2, 1859, in Council Grove, Kansas.
All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.
One
Dove City, Kansas, 1862
“Hello, Mrs. Martin.” Stone Piper removed his hat as he entered the lobby of Dove City’s only hotel. A large but crudely built structure on Main Street, it sat a few doors down from the general store. “Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”
Juliette Baker Martin looked up from the ledger and smiled. “Yes, Mr. Piper, a beautiful morning indeed. Much too pretty to be working inside. What brings you to town on a day like this?”
The man fumbled around in his shirt pocket, pulled out a small white hanky, and held it out to her. “I—ah—wanted you—I thought you—”
She eyed him suspiciously as she lowered her pen, closed the ledger, and rose with a slightly guarded smile. She couldn’t help but notice his weathered hand as she took the hanky from him. The finely woven threads seemed out of place balanced on his calloused fingers. “Wherever did you get such a lovely handkerchief?” Upon closer inspection, she noted the lace edge was a bit worn, but the intricate embroidery remained in perfect condition. His delicate gift and his gangly frame seemed incongruous.
“It belonged to Lucy, my wife,” he stated simply.
His gaze met hers, and she thought it quite sad. Her heart went out to him. She knew she’d never be able to get over the grief of losing her own beloved husband. The pain was ever present. Certainly, Mr. Piper was feeling the same kind of pain.
“I’ve—I’ve been going through some of her things. Should’ve done it long ago. I—ah—thought you might like to have it. You being such a lady and all. . .” His voice trailed off as if he had no idea how to finish his sentence.
She felt a sympathetic smile work at her lips as she unfolded the pristine cloth square and allowed her fingers to trace its delicate surface. “Lucy? What a pretty name.”
Juliette knew he was at least fifteen years older than she. A friend of her father’s, he was a widower and had two small sons living with his sister in Missouri. But according to her father, the man rarely talked about his past.
She smiled at the wrinkles in his shirt and the torn knee on his trousers. He may be better off than most of us, but his clothing certainly doesn’t show it. It was obvious the man never shirked when it came to hard work and physical labor. The ladies in her sewing circle had said his spread was quite grand by Dove City standards, though she’d never seen it for herself. It wouldn’t be proper for a woman of her status to visit a man’s home unless accompanied by her parents.
Interested in Stone Piper or not, she had to admit her curiosity about Carson Creek Ranch. It sounded like the place of her dreams. A fine house, acres of timber, and the Neosho River flowing through it. No doubt, Mr. Piper had several fine horses. One day she was going to have a place like his, with her own fine horse to ride. Maybe two horses—one for her, another for Andrew. How or when she didn’t know.
Looking back on her life, she wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t married so young? Or had little Andrew when she was barely nineteen? What if she’d been single when she’d come west with her family instead of a widow with an infant to care for and support? Would her life have been so different? So hard?
“Ma’am?” His eyes lowered as his fingers moved nervously around the brim of his hat.
She felt a flush rise to her cheeks as she realized her mind had wandered far away from their conversation. “You—you were telling me about your wife? Lucy?”
“Yes, Lucy. She was as pretty as her name,” he said proudly with a wistful smile that brought crinkles to his ruddy cheeks. “I should’ve gone through her things long ago, but—” He swallowed hard. “But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
She was embarrassed. How rude he must have thought her to let her mind wander like that when he spoke of such personal things.
“You—you must have loved her deeply,” Juliette stammered as she refolded the handkerchief and returned it to the thoughtful man. Until now, she hadn’t noticed how tall he was or how kind his deep-set blue eyes seemed. “Thank you, Mr. Piper, but—”
“Stone,” he interjected quickly, then cleared his throat. “Call me Stone. Everyone does.” He leaned against the counter with a friendly smile, the sadness she’d detected now replaced with warmth.
“Stone,” she echoed nervously, feeling unworthy to be the recipient of such a personal gift. Her gaze locked with his as once more she extended the handkerchief toward him. “I can’t accept something like this. Your daughters may someday want—”
“Don’t have no daughters and don’t rightly think there’s any in my future. Only have sons.” He held up a flattened palm between them. “Please, Mrs. Martin. Keep it. Lovely things should belong to a lovely lady.”
Juliette felt another flush rush to her cheeks as she twisted the simple gold wedding band on her left hand. No one had called her lovely in a long time. Not since David—
“It’d be my pleasure, Ma’am, if you’d keep it.”
When she met his earnest gaze, he was smiling convincingly. “Well—if you’re sure you want me to have it. I hate to see you let something this lovely out of your family—”
He glanced quickly around the lobby, then leaned forward as if to share a secret. With a mischievous smile that seemed out of character for a man of his size, he whispered, “Oh, but I’m not intending to let it out of the family.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand, Mr. Pi—Stone.”
To her surprise, he took her hand in his and gave it a slight squeeze. “I’m gonna ask your father, him being my friend, if it’d be alright for you and me to get married.”
Juliette caught her breath sharply, dazed by his declaration. Could he be teasing? Surely he isn’t serious. She had no idea how she should respond. “Ma–married?” she echoed as she stared up into eyes the color of the sky.
He gave her hand another squeeze, then turned to take his leave. “Not now, but soon. Don’t let any other man claim you.”
Smitten speechless, Juliette watched him go, then dropped onto the horsehair sofa near the hotel’s fireplace, her knees suddenly unable to hold her weight, the dainty handkerchief still clutched in her hand. Had she heard Stone Piper right? Had he said he wanted to marry her? Whatever could he have meant by such a ridiculous remark? What an odd thing to say.
❧
“When I get married, I’m going to marry a rich man,” Caroline declared as she whirled about the room, holding baby Steven in her outstretched arms as the baby squealed with delight. “I’m going to have a big house with beautiful furniture, and—”
“While you’re dreaming, little sister, dream up a rich man for me too,” Juliette taunted with a grin that she knew made her dimples evident. If she dared put any stock in Mr. Piper’s declaration, she wouldn’t be needing any of her sister’s dreams—not that she intended to take him up on his proposal. “I’ll take a house too. Only much bigger. With lots of land and trees and a river running through it, and—”
Caroline laug
hed aloud, her chocolate brown eyes twinkling. “Whoa! Why don’t you ask for the moon and the stars too? Come on, big sister, you’d better plan on settling for much less. You’ll never find a man who can give you all of those things.”
Juliette grabbed up her baby sister and rose quickly with a royal tilt of her chin. She whirled around the room in the same dizzying pattern as Caroline. “Maybe we can be neighbors and ride around in fine carriages, our babies on our laps, while other women do our work. That’d be mighty fine. Don’t you agree?”
Caroline stopped laughing and appeared wounded. “Now you’re making fun of me.”
Juliette grew serious as she stopped twirling and stood staring at her. “Not fun of you, Caroline. It’s just that our dreams will most likely not become a reality. Life here on the prairie is hard for most folks. Very few came with an abundance of money in their pockets. We’ve been fortunate to live in this fine hotel. If our father hadn’t been an educated man, he would’ve never gotten the job as hotel manager. We can thank the good Lord for that.”
“I know,” Caroline agreed thoughtfully. “But I’m keeping hold of my dreams. Someday—well, who knows what’ll happen?”
Juliette glanced up the stairway. “Where’s that sister of ours? We could use Molly’s help with these tired babies.”
“Molly’s helping Mother change the beds. I told her to come down when she’s finished, but you know how forgetful eight year olds can be. She’s probably playing with her doll.”
Juliette balanced her baby sister precariously on one hip and pulled aside the lace panel curtain covering the hotel’s front window. It was nearly opaque with Kansas dust.
“I checked on Andrew. He’s still asleep.” Reuben leaned over the stair’s railing, crunching on an apple.
“Thanks,” Juliette said as she smiled at him. “Let me know when that son of mine wakes up.”
Reuben nodded before heading back up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.
Caroline hoisted her crying sibling to her shoulder and moved behind Juliette for a better look. “What’s all the shouting?”
Juliette cocked her head and listened. “I don’t know, but something is wrong. I can sense it. Think you can take care of the twins by yourself for a few minutes? I’ll go find out.”
Caroline nodded. “I think what they both need is a good nap, but go ahead. I’ll manage. Hopefully, Molly will come and help me.”
Juliette gathered her skirts about her and hurried through the hotel lobby and onto the street, which had suddenly become as quiet as a watering pond on a still day in June. The few Dove City citizens who were out and about stood motionless, their gaze fixed on the end of Main Street. She hurried to join old Mrs. Pickford, jostling the woman’s ribbon-trimmed bonnet in the process. “What is it, Bertha?” Juliette asked as she placed a hand on the elder woman’s shoulder.
A worried frown twisted Bertha’s wrinkled face as she answered with one word. “Kaws.”
“The Kansa Indians?” Juliette asked quickly, remembering how her father had told her “Kaws” was the white man’s term for the tribe. It wasn’t unusual for Indians to be in the area. Whatever caused the woman’s concern? She edged forward for a better look.
“Go back inside,” a stern voice ordered somewhere behind her. She recognized it immediately without having to turn. It was her father. She knew better than to challenge his bidding, but she was concerned for the safety of her family. She continued to stare down Main Street at the approaching band of Indians, maybe one hundred strong, who were riding into town, all painted, feathered, and equipped for war. A chill of fear coursed through her body and caused a shudder. She’d never seen the Indians in war paint, and the sight frightened her.
“Now,” her father ordered, and this time his tone was harsh as his long fingers dug into her shoulders. He spun her around. “Send Reuben out. We may need him.”
She backed away slowly. Would her father never realize his eldest daughter had grown up? She was no longer a child but a woman. A mother with the responsibilities of an infant son, and part of that responsibility was to keep him safe. How could she keep him safe if she didn’t know what was going on?
“Now, Child,” he commanded, his voice unwavering as he stared her down. “You heard me.”
She nodded before taking a final glance at the cloud of dust filtering up around the hooves of the horses that came to a sudden halt in front of the general store. Muttering to herself about the inequities of life, she hurried obediently back into the hotel.
“Kaws,” she explained with a frown of concern as she entered, snatching up her baby sister. “I’m scared, Caroline, and I know Father is too. It looks like they’re on the warpath.”
Caroline’s hand flew to her mouth, and she let out a loud gasp. “But, why?”
The lace curtains parted again as Juliette peered out, her nose pressed against the glass, Stella wrapped securely in her arms.
“Which one of you girls wants to change Andrew’s diaper? He don’t smell so good.” Reuben held the giggling infant at arm’s length and turned his head away.
Juliette wrinkled her nose, quickly placed her baby sister onto the pallet, and reached toward her tiny son, the offensive-smelling baby she loved more than life itself. In all the excitement, she’d nearly forgotten her father’s request. “Reuben,” she informed her younger brother quickly, “you’d better hurry outside. Father wants you. The Kaws are wearing war paint.”
Reuben rushed toward the lobby door. “You girls stay in here where it’s safe,” he called back over his shoulder.
“You girls stay in here where it’s safe,” Juliette mimicked as she stooped to stretch her gurgling son out in his crib. “It’s not fair, Caroline. I’m scared, and I want to know what’s going on.”
Her sister’s eyes widened as she pointed a finger in Juliette’s direction. “You’d better not let Father hear you talk like that.”
“I’m nineteen years old,” Juliette retorted with a lift of her chin and a shake of her head. “I should be able to go out onto the porch if I want to. I’m concerned about my son. How can I keep him safe if I don’t even know what’s happening out there?”
“As long as you’re living under our father’s roof, he’ll expect you to do as he says.” Caroline shifted Steven to her hip and moved to the window.
“It’s not that I want to defy Father, Caroline. But I’m a mother now. It’s my responsibility to keep my child safe, and I’m worried about you and mother and our brothers and sisters.” Juliette clasped her fingers around her baby’s thick ankles, lifted his plump legs, and placed a clean square of cloth under his bottom. “Someday, when I get married and have my own home, I’ll be able to do as I please.” As if on cue, Stone Piper’s unexpected words flooded her mind. I’m gonna ask your father, him being my friend, if it’d be alright for you and me to get married.
Caroline turned from the window and placed Stella on the pallet beside Steven. “Another husband? What man would want to take on a woman with a six-month-old baby?”
“Plenty of men,” Juliette responded quickly, tempted to tell Caroline of the morning’s strange experience with the wealthy rancher. “I could’ve found one by now if I hadn’t been so busy helping with this hotel and taking care of Andrew.” She leaned toward the baby and planted a kiss on the tip of his tiny, pert nose. She loved caring for him and knew she was a good mother, but raising a baby in her father’s home, in the midst of a large family with twin babies, was not an easy task. She’d much prefer to be on her own, but the meager salary she earned at her father’s hotel ruled out that possibility.
Although the sisters couldn’t see what was going on outside, they could hear it. The sound of nagging horses and agitated voices rose to peak level.
“I’m going out there just for a minute,” Juliette announced as she handed her son to her sister. “Think you can keep an eye on the three of them? They’re a pretty big handful. We need to know what’s going on out there, and since
no one has seen fit to come and tell us—”
Caroline reached out and clasped her hand around Juliette’s wrist. “But Father said—”
Juliette pulled away and placed Andrew in the crib she’d bought to keep in the lobby so he could be near her when she worked. “I’m only going to have a quick look. Can I trust you to keep a close watch on my son?”
Caroline nodded. “You know you can.”
Juliette moved through the lobby and out the door, doing a quick search of the area. Her attention went to the Indian’s leader and Thomas Ward, whom she recognized immediately. Mr. Ward was a bachelor and the owner of the general store. He and Blue Feather were having a heated exchange of words.
She pressed herself against the clapboard siding on the hotel front and moved a bit closer, clutching her skirts.
“You’d better get back inside, Juliette.” It was Harrison Rogers, the young man who had accompanied the Baker family on their trip to Kansas from Ohio, and he was standing behind her.
“Mind your business, Harrison,” she retorted with a cold stare and a shrug. Harrison was a nice young man and overly protective of her sometimes, even though they were nearly the same age. She was sure he was sweet on her, despite the fact that she was a widow with an infant to care for. He’d paid an inordinate amount of attention to her on the trail. But when and if she married again, it would be to a rich man—not to a mere boy seeking his fortune in this new land, no matter how nice he was.
“I heard your pa tell you to stay inside.” His hand moved to the small of her back as he gave her a gentle shove in the direction of the hotel.
Her hands flew to her hips, and she stepped away from him. “If you tell Father, I’ll—”
His hand caught her wrist, and his eyes twinkled mischievously as he leaned into her face. “You’ll what? Kiss me?”
With a lifted brow and a coy smile—just coy enough to keep him obliged to her—she answered, “Kiss you? No, but I might be persuaded to do one of your chores for you. If you don’t tattle on me. I need to see what’s happening, Harrison. I have a son to worry about and need to keep him safe. You do understand, don’t you?”
Lucy's Quilt Page 1