Oklahoma kiss (3 page)

      
He cast a sidelong glance at Blair to see if she was impressed with his reading ability. Receiving no response, he hurriedly continued, " 'Course, that only stands to reason since the government is opening the land north of the Canadian River to the homesteaders. They sure are looking forward to it, and boy-howdy, I am too! The settlers have been swarming in here like bees . . . and it's only been a few days since the word went out. So many of 'em here already makes it hard to imagine what it's gonna be like this time next week and the week after that. Why, 'fore it's all said and done, I'll bet there will be better 'n fifty thousand people claiming land . . . and me and Pa plan on being the first ones to drive stakes in the ground!"

      
Tentacles of alarm exploded through her. She whirled about on the wagon seat to face him. "What did you say about the government opening the land to settlers?"

      
"You . . . you mean you haven't heard the news?" Bobby could feel the color draining from his face. For a moment there he had forgotten Blair was an Injun and it only stood to reason she'd be upset over what he told her. But he thought she knew, everybody else certainly did. He figured that was the reason why she'd come home. He shook his head dismally. His pa swore he was the only one in these parts who walked around with a foot stuck in his mouth, and now he had somehow found room to fit both feet. Yep, his pa was right, he did have a galloping case of hoof-and-mouth disease. If he did not do or say something quick, all that time he had spent working up his courage to ask her if he could come callin’ would be for nothing.

      
"No, I haven't read a newspaper in nearly a week," Blair said slowly, her expression somber. "Tell me, what on earth is going on?"

      
Suddenly, Bobby seemed to be at a loss for words. His mouth opened but he had to force himself to speak. "Well ... it seems that President Harrison signed a bill into law last week allowing homesteaders to lay claim on one hundred and sixty acres of prime land. I forget right off just how many thousands of acres are being opened, but it’s a goodly amount."

      
He shrugged and shook his head. "Guess I could have misunderstood what I’ve been reading, but if so, a bunch of other folks have misunderstood too, 'cause there are 'bout two hundred families, maybe even more, camped on the other side of Doughtery just waitin' for April twenty-second to arrive so they can stake their claims. And if you ask me, some of 'em ain't waiting. Some of 'em has already slipped over there and picked out the land they intend to claim. Sure hope somebody don't get that spot me and Pa looked at," he added worriedly.

      
Blair's insides felt as though they had turned to stone. This news was not only shocking, it was devastating as well. Any fool would know opening Indian land to white settlers was asking for trouble. If she had not kept herself sequestered on the train, she would have heard about it sooner. Miss Pettibone had demanded a private compartment when she purchased her railroad ticket and since the motion of the train had made her deathly ill, the compartment was where she remained. But this certainly explained why so many people were on the
      
train and why the streets of Doughtery were so busy. All of the other towns were probably crowded with settlers, too.

      
Seeing the misery on her pretty face, Bobby spoke in an odd yet gentle tone, "Blair, ‘fore you get all riled up, just keep in mind, there ain't hardly nobody living on the land the government is opening to homesteaders. This don't mean that the government plans to take away your brothers' land. Leastways I hope that's how it will be, 'cause you all have worked mighty hard. And regardless of what my pa says, this here land belongs to your people."

      
Her eyes shimmered from his kind words. "Thank you, Bobby. I had no idea my feelings were so apparent."

      
He blushed and grinned. "Oh, pshaw, I could always tell what you were thinking just by the expression on your face." Not wanting to lose what little interest she had shown in him, Bobby slapped an open palm against his forehead. "Gall-durn-it! Don't know what I've been thinkin' about!"

      
He reached behind the seat, grasped a rifle and placed it across his lap. "The boss cautioned us freight drivers to be ready for trouble. He said in their haste to get here, some of those settlers might have come poorly prepared, and some are probably nothing but riff-raff. Then, too, there have been more and more owlhoots hole'n up in this area ever since the railroad came through. Ain't been no killin's yet, but two days ago one man was pistol whipped real bad 'fore he was robbed. But don't you worry none, I'll protect you ... me and ol' Pasty here." He patted the rifle to add extra emphasis to his words.

      
This information came as no surprise to Blair. Even though outlaws had sought refuge in the Nation for years now, they had had little trouble from them. Why should the outlaws jeopardize a safe haven? There was too much land for the U. S. Marshals out of Fort Smith to cover, and the Indian police had no jurisdiction over crimes committed outside the Nation.

      
Any trouble probably stemmed from the homesteaders. In the past, the settlers who slipped in without obtaining land permits thought cattle, even branded cattle, was theirs for the taking, especially if the livestock belonged to an Indian. During such times it took a constant vigil to prevent the whites from stealing them blind.

      
Blair could not help but wonder what would happen when so many homesteaders settled north of the ranch's boundary. She sighed uneasily. There was not a doubt in her mind that the trouble had just started.

      
Chapter 2

      
An onslaught of memories rushed through Blair’s mind when the ranch proper finally came into view. Her throat tightened and her green eyes stung with unshed tears as they scanned the horizon, drifting over the corrals, barn, the bunkhouse, the outbuildings, and the sprawling ranch house that seemed to stretch endlessly. How she had missed this place! She breathed a silent vow to never leave again unless it was by her own choice.

      
Unconsciously, her brow furrowed as she glanced about once again, wondering why the ranch looked 50 deserted — almost abandoned. But no sign of neglect was evident. If anything, the outbuildings and house appeared to be freshly painted, the barn as sturdy as ever, and the corrals in good repair. Yet not a soul could be seen.

      
Unaware she had been holding her breath, Blair sighed with relief when she saw their cook and housekeeper, Tillie Smith, walk out on the front porch and down the steps, shading her eyes from the dazzling sunshine with one hand and clutching a broom with the other.

      
"Hurry, Bobby," Blair urged impatiently, a wide smile on her face. After all of these years, she was anxious to hug that dear woman.

      
Not waiting for the wagon to come to a complete stop, Blair scrambled down from it, yet stopped abruptly when Tillie gave no sign of recognition.

      
"Howdy-do," the plump black woman said hesitantly. Squinting, she stepped forward, now clutching the broom handle with both hands. "The Misters aren't home right now." She quickly added, "But Ah 'spect them back shortly."

      
A flicker of apprehension coursed through Blair. "Don't you recognize me, Tillie? It's me . . . Blair, I’ve come home."

      
Tillie's dark eyes narrowed questioningly as she cocked her head to one side to get a better view. "B-Blair?" Her lips parted in surprise as she threw down the broom and fairly screeched with joy. "Lordy, Lordy, it's Miss Blair!" She grabbed the girl and hugged with all her might, tears of happiness streaming down her face."Ah'll swone, you are the last person Ah 'spected to see! Just you wait 'til Ah get a-hold o' your brothers . . . Ah'll thrash 'em within an inch of their lives for not telling me 'bout you a-coming home!" Then, holding Blair at arm's length, her gaze softened and her tone grew solemn, "Child, you don't know how much Ah've missed you."

      
Happy tears also slid down Blair's face. "I've missed you too, Tillie, but for a moment there, you had me worried. I didn't think you recognized me. In fact, I thought you were about to start using that broom handle as a club."

      
"Hummp!" she grumbled good-naturedly, brushing the moisture from her eyes. "Ah see right now that Mr. Coy has been putting you up to no good. He's been pestering me for nigh on to a year . . . saying Ah need spectacles. Why, my eyesight is as good as the day Ah was born ... so don't you go believing everything that scamp has tol' you in his letters. Ah ain't going blind! And in case he had other complaints in his letters, Ah'm not really as cross as a bear and Ah haven't breathed no fire . . ." she squinted her face thoughtfully, ". . . in nigh on to a month now."

      
Blair couldn't help herself as she burst out laughing. Nothing had changed between Coy and Tillie; he had always teased her unmercifully, at times carrying it a little too far. Yet, she suspected if he ever stopped, Tillie would think he was angry with her. Coy had mentioned he thought Tillie needed eyeglasses, and after seeing her, Blair thoroughly agreed with him.

      
Tillie gazed at Blair with loving eyes. "As for me not recognizing you, why, you’ve changed considerably. You left here a skinny little girl, and you done come back a beautiful young woman!" For a moment she was silent, then she let out a long, audible breath and gestured toward Bobby. "And as for using the broom handle for a club. Ah don't mind saying, for a while there. Ah was a-feared you 'n him were a couple of them nesters the Misters have been speaking about. And didn't know what sort of trouble you'd be bringing . . ."

      
Blair's brow knotted with sudden concern. "Has there been much trouble?"

      
She looked away swiftly at the sight of Blair's scowl. "Well, none to speak of, but it's brewing, sure as Ah'm standing here, it's brewing!" Not wanting to upset Blair so soon after arriving, Tillie turned her attention to Bobby. "Young man, don't just sit there, put your muscles to work by fetching Miss Townsend's trunks into the house."

      
"Yes, ma'am!" Bobby climbed over the seat and began shoving the trunks toward the rear of the wagon. He had been listening carefully, and he'd had no idea that Nigras could breathe fire. He would
      
have to tell his pa about that ... bet he didn’t know either.

      
Although Blair sensed there had been more trouble at the Bar 4 than Tillie was willing to admit, she decided not to press for more information. She'd learn soon enough what had been happening.

      
Tillie cleared the sudden lump that had formed in her throat. "Lordy, all we've been doing is gabbing. Turn around, child, and let me get a good look at you." She stared critically at Blair's slender figure. "Missy, you look to be plum tuckered out and half-starved to death. Why, you're so thin you're goin' have to wear weights in your skirts to keep the wind from blowing you away. What did they feed you at that school anyway? Must not have been much, and what there was must not a been fittin' to eat. Come on in the house. There's a crock o' fresh buttermilk down in the cellar and Ah just finished baking a skillet of cornbread." She smiled. "Ah know how much you love cornbread and buttermilk."

      
Blair's stomach grumbled at the mention of that tempting treat. While on the train she had suffered so badly from motion sickness, nothing had stayed in her stomach. But now, she was famished. "That sounds good, Tillie. I'm suddenly so hungry, I think I could eat the horns off of a bull!"

      
"That's 'bout what Ah thought!" Clicking her tongue and shaking her head, Tillie muttered to no one in particular as she climbed the porch steps, "Lands o' sake, imagine me a-thinking to cook corn-bread today and not having the least notion Miss Blair was a-coming home. Why, Ah declare. Ah must be getting second sight in my older years!"

      
She opened the screen door but stopped Bobby when he started to enter. "Carry the trunks 'round the porch and go in through that way. Be sure and put them in Miss Blair's room. It's the last room to the right. And clean your boots. Just scrubbed and waxed the floors yesterday and there's no need in you leavin' dusty tracks all over 'em." She peered toward the wagon. "With the amount of trunks you have to carry in, you're bound to work up a powerful appetite. When you're finished, come to the back door and Ah'll fetch you something to eat 'fore you start back to Doughtery. It's too long a ways to have to ride with your belly grumbling."

      
"Y-yes, ma'am," Bobby stammered, carefully wiping his feet on the braided rug lying on the front porch.

      
"Come on in, Missy, let's get you fed 'fore you faint from hunger."

      
Blair stepped into the foyer and a peaceful feeling immediately descended over her. It was all so sweetly familiar. Nothing had changed. The sprawling, tall-ceilinged house was exactly as she remembered. To her left, a dogtrot separated the bedrooms from the main part of the house, and a study was directly ahead. A huge sitting room was to her right and beyond, through the double doors, was the dining room large enough to seat twenty guests. They seldom entertained, but it had seen plenty of use through the years since most of the ranch hands took their meals with the family. Behind the dining room was the enormous kitchen. To afford her a bit of privacy, Tillie's room was located beyond a roofed breezeway. It was a beautiful home, well-cared for, and even though it reflected a more masculine taste in furnishings, it was very pleasing to the eye.