Mistletoe Mayhem: Clean Historical Western Cowboy Romance Novel (Dawson Chronicles Book 1) (4 page)

              Black Fox said, “That is because he got drunk one night when he and a couple of his friends stayed in Marcus’ tipi.  Dino was there, too.”

              Sawyer tried to be stern as he looked at his sixteen-year-old brother, but he couldn’t help smiling.  “How’d you feel the next morning?”

              Dino said, “Like a herd of wild horses had run me over.  And Uncle didn’t make it any better.  He kept shouting at us and talking about food.”

              “I was not trying to make it any better,” Black Fox said.

              “I know, Father.  And then Mom started singing,” Jonathan said.  “I ran outside to get away from them.”  Beth’s singing voice was so terrible that everyone left when she sang.

              Beth chuckled.  “You mean staggered outside.”

              “It felt like I was running,” Jonathan said.  “I haven’t touched booze since then.”

              “And you’d better not,” Beth said sweetly.

              Jonathan looked chagrined and then said, “Dino, come see my new knife.  I bought it in Wolf Point yesterday.”

              “Ok,” Dino said, rising and following his cousin.

              As Sawyer looked around the clearing, he sighed, letting the atmosphere sink into his being.  “Boy, did I miss this,” he said.

              Beth said, “And we missed you.”

              “So tell me more about what’s been going on around camp,” he requested, listening attentively as his relatives complied.

              The next day, D.J. took Sawyer to the bank to put his photographs into a safe deposit box.  Once that was done, they went to Elliot’s—Sawyer wanted to pick up a few things for the few days he’d be in the hospital.  He selected a couple of magazines and catalogues to occupy himself with whenever he didn’t have visitors.

              Elliot’s had been expanded, stocking a lot more merchandise selections.  They also had a gas pump out back where the cars filled up.  The railroad now came into Wolf Point, making it possible to receive ice shipments.  Elliot had invested in a small ice house, selling the frozen commodity to the three restaurants, the new pharmacy, and the townspeople who owned iceboxes.  His son, Zach, had a pair of fast Standardbreds that he’d bought from the Dwyers, and he delivered ice to their customers daily.

              Walking around the store with Sawyer, D.J. thought about the tenuous situation he’d gotten into with the army.  Since Sawyer hadn’t known about the strict censorship, D.J. didn’t think it was fair that his punishment had been so harsh.  Sawyer’s natural instincts were to look for a story and to take pictures since he’d grown up working in the newspaper industry.

              It aggravated D.J. that he couldn’t print the pictures Sawyer had taken because they were excellent shots of a couple of skirmishes.  They would be considered graphic, but were no worse than some of the pictures taken during the Civil and Indian Wars.  He was glad that Sawyer was preserving them; they were too good not to be seen someday. 

              As they left the store, Sawyer suddenly found himself facing Devon Dwyer.  A shockwave rippled through him at the sight of her.  She was even more beautiful than he’d remembered.  Her lustrous black hair, big, blue eyes, and creamy complexion combined to create almost an ethereal beauty.

              Since she worked with horses all day, she usually wore jeans and blouses, which emphasized her lithe figure.  Sawyer remembered how incredible she’d felt in his arms and the softness of her rosy lips.  Restraining a groan of hunger, he said, “Hello, Devon.  It’s good to see you.”

             
Why did I have to run into him
? Devon thought. 
I knew I would sooner or later, but I’m not prepared for it.
  He looked unbelievably handsome in his jeans, blue-and-white striped button-down shirt, and denim jacket that showed off his muscular physique to perfection.  Devon was sure that he had no idea how appealing he was to women.  He never had.  The shaft of desire that shot through her was disconcerting.

              “H-hello, Sawyer.  I heard that you came home.  How are you feeling?” she asked, remembering Joey telling their family about his injuries. 

              “Not great, but Dr. Walker is gonna do surgery on my ankle tomorrow, so it’ll get better,” he said.

              She was genuinely concerned.  “I was sorry to hear about you being hurt.  I hope your surgery goes well.”

              “Thanks.  Well, I better not keep Pa waiting.  Take care, Devon.”

              Devon put a halting hand on his arm.  “It really is good to see you, Sawyer.  Good luck tomorrow.  I’ll be thinking about you.”

              Bitterness rose in his chest.  “That’s probably not a good idea in case something happens to me, Devon.  Isn’t that what you were afraid of?  I guess you were right.  I don’t think Teddy would like you thinking about me very much, or isn’t he the jealous type?”

              Her eyes sparked blue fire as her temper flared.  She snatched her hand away and walked into the store without another word to him.  Sawyer watched her go and then saw her father standing a short distance away.  Had Joe heard him?  He didn’t much care.

              The gregarious Texan hadn’t been able to hear the young people’s conversation, but he could tell that it had been tense.  He thought it was a shame that it hadn’t worked out between them when it had been clear that they’d loved each other so much.  Smiling, he walked over to Sawyer.

              “There’s one of our heroes,” he said, holding out a hand to him.

              Sawyer shook it.  “Hello, sir.  It’s good to see you.”

              “Good to see you, too, son.  Joey says that Ben’s gonna get you fixed up tomorrow,” Joe said, noticing the way Sawyer had winced when they’d shaken hands.  He didn’t mention it, though, knowing that it would only hurt Sawyer’s already smarting pride.

              “That’s right.  Even so, it doesn’t look like I’ll be going back,” Sawyer said.

              “Well, son, you can be proud of yourself for going and fighting for your country.  You did your best and I know you were a good soldier,” Joe said, smiling.  “You’re good with all kinds of weapons and you were raised around warriors, so I’m sure you gave ‘em hell,” Joe said.

              Sawyer grinned.  “I sure did.”

              Joe nodded.  “Now, look.  If you need anything, you let us know, ok?  Anything at all.”

              “Thanks, Mr. Dwyer,” Sawyer said.

              “You bet.”  Joe considered not voicing his next thought, but then went ahead.  “I know things ended badly with you and Devon, but don’t let that keep you from comin’ to see us, ok?  I know Lacey and the rest would like to see you.  So come on over when you’re up and around again.”

              “Yes, sir,” Sawyer said.  “I will.”

              “I’m gonna hold you to that,” Joe said, his hazel eyes serious.

              “I know you will.”

              Joe smiled, nodded, and followed his daughter inside the store.

*****

              That evening, Lacey Dwyer tried to keep the tears out of her brown eyes as she read the latest letter from their son, Kyle.  Finishing it, she handed it to Joe, who sat up in the bed next to her reading, of all things, a romance book.  He laughed at something and closed it before taking the letter from his wife.  He sat the book on his nightstand and began reading the letter.

Dear Family,

              It’s been raining here for three days straight and I feel like a drowned rat.  I’m sorry for the condition of this letter, but it’s hard to keep them neat when you’re sitting in a trench that’s a quarter of the way filled with water.

              We had a good day yesterday.  We were able to push those Germans back a good bit and our rations finally came, along with that wasna you sent from our Lakota gang.  Tell them
philámayayapi
for me and from my trench mate, Art.  He isn’t supposed to be with our infantry since he’s colored, but he got separated from his.  He saved my life and I told my sergeant that he was staying with me and that he could kiss my ass if he didn’t like it.

              It’s ridiculous for him and his buddies not to be with the rest of us since they fight just as hard as we do.  I told Art to look me up when all of this is over and we’d give him a job.  It’s the least I can do for him for keeping me alive. 

              The boys here nicknamed me Slingshot because I can sometimes kill small game, which helps out when rations are slow in coming.  My slingshot is silent and won’t give away our position.  We roast whatever I kill over a small fire real quick and then put it out as soon as it’s cooked.  I’ve also distracted some Germans with it until someone can shoot them and it saves on my ammo, too.  Rocks are a lot more plentiful than bullets sometimes.

              I’m grateful to our Lakotas for teaching me all of this stuff.  It’s come in really handy.  Boot camp was much easier for me than a lot of the guys because of all my conditioning and fight training.  That and the strategy they taught me helped me get that promotion to corporal so quickly.  Speaking of which (who does that sound like?), I’m being considered for a promotion to sergeant depending on how my unit performs the next couple of months.

              I’ve got a good group of guys under me and we get along for the most part.  Mama and Daddy, I just do with them what you’ve both taught all of us since we were little: just meet them where they’re at and go from there.  I’ve made a point of getting to know them and show them that they’re not just some soldier to me.  If we’re gonna all stay alive, we have to work together and watch out for each other.

              You’ll never guess who I ran into last week.  One of our very brave braves, one of Reckless and Brook’s boys, Bear.  He looks strange with his hair so short.  He’s doing well and says hello to everyone.  We didn’t have much time to talk because his infantry was on the move, but it was good to see someone from home.

              Well, I’m closing for now, but as always, just in case something happens to me, know that I love everyone with all my heart and you’re all always in my thoughts and prayers.

Love always,

Kyle 

             
Joe sighed as he finished the letter and folded it up.  Looking at Lacey, he saw tears trickling from her eyes as she wrote an immediate response to Kyle.  He didn’t try to comfort her because he knew that she wouldn’t want to be interrupted and lose her train of thought.

              “I’ll be right back,” he told her.

              She nodded, but kept on writing.  Joe threw on a robe and took the letter with him, intending to give it to Joey, whose room was at the very end of the hall as far away from the nursery as possible.  He’d just raised his hand to knock on the door when he heard Joey’s laugh accompanied by a feminine giggle.  He lowered his hand and leaned a little closer to the door.  Other sounds followed that he recognized well, shocking him.

              This sort of situation had never occurred with any of their kids before and Joe didn’t know what to do.  He should probably interrupt, but he found that idea extremely distasteful and embarrassing even as anger ignited inside.  Quietly, he left, going out to the parlor.  He poured two fingers of whiskey into a glass, downed it quickly, and poured two more fingers.

              He paced around for about fifteen minutes because he wanted to find out what was going on before involving Lacey.  He remembered what he’d been like at Joey’s age and, while it would be hypocritical to lecture him, he’d always told his boys that he wanted them to be better men than he’d been.  A womanizer for years, he’d raised hell wherever he’d gone.  At the time, he hadn’t cared what other people thought, but as he’d gotten older, he’d seen how reckless he’d been and how lucky he’d been that he hadn’t gotten any women pregnant.

              It looked like his namesake hadn’t heeded his advice on the subject of sleeping around, though.  What was he going to say to Joey?  He had no idea. 
What would Randy say?
  Joe’s head butler, Randall Cranston, was the epitome of British elegance and always seemed to know what to do in any given situation.  He’d been with the Dwyer family since Joe had been Joey’s age and had essentially become a father to Joe.

              “I’ll get Randy to talk to him.  No, you can’t do that.  He’s
your
son, not Randy’s.  C’mon, Joe.  You can handle this,” he mumbled, walking back to Joey’s room.  Frowning, he listened, but it was quiet, so he knocked.

              Joey took a couple of minutes to open it.  “Hi, Daddy.”

              Joe pushed him back so he could enter the room.  “Is she still here?”

              “Who?”

              Joe gave him a sarcastic look.  “Don’t play dumb.  I came down here to give you Kyle’s letter and I heard a girl in here.”

              “I think you’re hearing things,” Joey said.

              Joe leaned forward and sniffed.  “I don’t think so.  You smell like perfume.  You oughta know that I know all the tricks, Jr.  Where is she?”

              Joey knew he was caught, but he wasn’t going to give anything away.  “Gone.”

              “Well, she didn’t go out the front or sunroom door, so she must have gone out the window,” Joe said.  “You gonna let her get home by herself?”

              “I wanted to go with her, but she wouldn’t let me,” Joey said. 

              “Mmm hmm.  How long have you been doing this?”

              Joey narrowed his eyes.  “That’s my business.  I’m not hurting anyone and I’d appreciate it if you keep this to yourself.  I don’t want her to be embarrassed.”

              His father’s eyes turned greener and Joey knew he was in for it.

              “You shoulda thought of that before you started foolin’ around!” Joe said.  “You’re being disrespectful of her and you’re disrespecting your mother and me by doing this in our house!”

              Joey bit back the angry words on the tip of his tongue.  He knew from experience that shouting at his father only made Joe angrier and that he wouldn’t get anywhere with him.  It was far better to try to reason with him.  “Daddy, come sit down, please?”  He thought about poor Snow Song hiding in his closet, but maybe he could kill two birds with one stone.

              Joe sat on the chair while Joey sat on a corner of his bed.  “Daddy, I’m not disrespecting her.  I love her and I just can’t resist her.  She’s, um, pretty convincing.”