Rebecca Hagan Lee - [Borrowed Brides 01] (22 page)

“Human.”

“What?” She met his gaze, her gray eyes were wide with astonishment.

“I said it makes you human.” Reese sat down on the corner of the bed. “All human beings have prejudices of some kind.” He moved to touch her, but she rolled away.

“But to stare like I did. I knew it was rude, but I couldn’t stop.”

“Have you ever seen an Indian before today?” he asked gently.

“No, but that’s no excuse for being―”

“Curious.” Reese pulled her into his arms. She didn’t roll away. “I was Joy’s age when I saw my first black man. I was terrified. I ran crying to my mother.”

“But why? There’s nothing to be afraid of. People are people.”

“That’s exactly what my mother said. She said it was foolish to fear something as natural as skin color. It was like fearing a red-haired man because his hair was different from mine and not fearing a black-haired man because my hair was also black. Skin color is superficial. The blood underneath is the same.”

“I’m ashamed.” Faith began to cry in earnest. “I feel so foolish! When I saw Mary I remembered asking Charlie how he came to settle in Wyoming. And now I realize he must have followed the trail from Georgia to the Indian Territory. Oh, Reese”―she clung to his shirt― “how he must have suffered coming all that way. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…but you never said anything, and then”― she sniffed, and Reese handed her a handkerchief―“when I met Mary she looked at me so…I thought you didn’t tell me because you were ashamed of me… Maybe you
should
have chosen someone else. I mean, I haven’t a cent to my name, and I’m dressed in rags…and I shamed you in front of your family.”

“Shh.” He brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Shh, sweetheart, you haven’t shamed me.” He kissed the tip of her reddened nose. “And Mary likes you very much.”

“She does?”

“She does. In fact, she ordered me to make peace with you.”

“She didn’t.” Faith hid her face in his shirt.

Reese touched the underside of her chin with his finger, tilting her face up so he could see her eyes. “She did. She chased me around the kitchen with a wooden spoon”―Faith smiled at the image―“and ordered me to come upstairs and make peace with my bride.”

Faith’s smile died on her lips. She stiffened in his arms and tried to pull away. The lie hung between them.

“Well, now, you’re safe.” She smiled brightly. “I’m not your new bride. I’m only rented. Temporarily.”

“Faith, I’m sorry.” He tried to kiss her. She avoided his lips. Reese stared at her face. He saw the pain in her eyes. For the first time, he damned his contract and his elaborate scheme. “Faith, please…”

Faith studied his face. She saw the look in his eyes, and for the first time, she was glad of the contract and his crazy plan. It was too easy to love him, and much too painful. She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him, telling him with her lips the things she couldn’t say aloud.

The Trail T was home to four families—all relatives of Reese. The arrangement of the ranch resembled that of a plantation, and at supper her first night on the ranch, Faith learned it functioned in a similar manner.

Charlie, Sarah, and Sam lived in a log house behind the main house. Reese’s grandparents, Duncan and Elizabeth, lived in the cabin closest to Charlie and Sarah. Mary lived by herself in a cabin several hundred feet away. The cabin next to the smithy belonged to Joe, the blacksmith. He was also part Cherokee, from another clan, a relation by marriage. His wife was dead. He shared the cabin with his two children. The ranch hands shared a dormitory-like building, called the bunkhouse.

The Cherokee were a communal society and well as a matriarchal one. Everyone worked for the good of the ranch and the ranch provided food, clothing, and shelter for the people who lived there. Reese had even provided a schoolhouse for the children. Mary was the teacher. She had three pupils—eleven year old twins, Jimmy and Kate, the blacksmith’s children, and fifteen year old, Sam. The lessons were taught in English and in Cherokee. Faith quickly decided Joy should become Mary’s fourth pupil.

Mary tentatively broached the topic of school and the other children at supper. She had been surprised to learn Joy hadn’t been enrolled in school in Richmond.

“The school system was rather chaotic after the war.” Faith explained, “I was afraid to send her. I started her lessons back in November, but I’ve been very lax.”

Reese looked at Faith across the length of the long, dining table. “We can hire a governess if you like.”

“Why spend the extra money,” Faith asked, “when she can go to school right here? I’m sure Mary is as good a teacher as any governess.”

“Better.” Reese told her, “How many governesses do you know who speak Spanish, French, English and Cherokee?”

“Don’t forget Latin.” Mary warned him, laughing at Faith’s stunned expression.

Reese explained, “It’s a family joke. Before David and I went off to school, my father hired a British schoolmaster to tutor us. Mary put up such a fuss at being excluded, my father decided she should be allowed to attend our lessons. Mary excelled in all the romance languages. She did better in Latin than either one of us.”

“Do you teach all those languages?” Faith asked.

“Only English and Cherokee.” Mary told her, “Unless you want the works,” she added, hopefully.

“Or, happen to be her brother.” Sam groaned.

“Joy and I want the works.” Faith announced.

“You?” Reese was astonished, “Are you serious?”

“Why not?” Faith asked, “My education was interrupted by the war.” She said defensively, “I would like to be able to complete it. And I hate being the only person on the ranch who doesn’t speak the Cherokee language. I want to talk to Sarah.”

“Are you certain about this?” Reese wanted to know.

“Yes.”

“Good,” Mary announced, “Joy can start in the morning. Faith, you can join us in the afternoon for languages.”

The decision made, Faith worked at blending her life, and Joy’s, into the everyday routine of the ranch. She spent her mornings learning the workings of the main house. She stood through hours of dress fittings while the seamstress Reese brought from Cheyenne measured, pinned, and stitched a suitable wardrobe for her. She selected patterns, fabrics, and notions and set to work on a wardrobe for Joy, including a gray corduroy to be used for a riding habit.

Though she longed for the opportunity to be smartly outfitted aboard a horse, Faith omitted a riding habit for herself. She didn’t have a horse to ride and couldn’t bring herself to ask for one. But as long as weather permitted, she never missed an opportunity to participate in Joy’s riding lessons.

Faith balked the first time she realized Charlie was teaching Joy to ride astride. She stood at the edge of the corral watching while he held the pony on a lead, coaxing him through his gaits.

“She needs a proper saddle.” Faith told him. “A little girl’s saddle.”

Charlie shook his head. “Side saddle’s too dangerous.”

“That’s ridiculous. I learned to ride in a lady’s saddle. I’ve ridden that way all my life.”

“In Richmond?”

“Yes.”

“You can stay alive in a sidesaddle in Richmond.” Charlie said. “But out here, it’ll get you killed.”

“But…”

“Faith, let me teach the youngun to ride Western style first. Then if you still want her to know how, we’ll teach her the proper way.”

Faith looked at Joy bouncing on the back of the fat pony, skirts flying. Her blond braids moving from side to side in rhythm to the pony’s trot. “Look at me, Faith! I’m riding Brutus!” Joy waved and almost lost her seat as Brutus trotted a bit faster. She giggled.

“Keep both hands on the reins, lass.” Charlie warned, “Else you’ll be dusting off your skirts.”

Joy giggled in reply, but dutifully placed her hand back on the reins.

Faith remembered her own riding lessons. The constant striving for perfection. The straight back, perfect seat, the hours of torture as she strove to maintain her balance on her proper ladies saddle. Joy looked carefree. She enjoyed her sessions. Surely, that was more important right now than propriety. For a moment, she was envious. Riding astride looked fun.

She smiled at Charlie. “We’ll teach her the Western style first.”

Charlie reined in the fat, little pony. “That’s enough for today, lass. Time to wash up for breakfast.”

Joy protested. “I hafta groom Brutus.”

“You go get ready.” Faith told her. “I’ll groom Brutus for you.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t mind.” Faith said. “I’ll enjoy the chance to spend time in a stable again.”

Charlie lifted Joy off the pony and swung her into his arms. “Let’s go, lassie. Mary’ll be after me with her ruler if you’re late for school.”

Faith led the shaggy pony back to the barn.

Reese found her there a little while later, seated astride the pony, her toes almost touching the ground as she trotted up and down the length of the barn. Faith’s back was to him. She was laughing at Brutus’s futile attempts to dislodge her as he scrubbed his side against one of the stalls.

“It will take more than that to get me off, you mean little imp.” Faith warned. “I’ve kept my seat on better mounts than you.”

“What a picture that conjures up.” Reese said.

Faith whirled the pony around, almost losing her balance at the sound of Reese’s voice. Embarrassment flooded her face. “What are you doing here?”

Reese’s gaze traveled from the tips of her dusty boots, up the length of her legs, hips, waist, lingered a moment at her breasts, then focused on her face. “I came to see what was keeping you. I never dreamed I’d find you like this.”

Faith heard the husky tone, recognized the heat in his eyes, and tried to smooth her skirts back over her exposed limbs. She wet her lips. “I promised Joy I’d groom Brutus for her.”

“Groom him for what?” Reese approached the pony, eyeing him warily, careful to keep out of the reach of his teeth.

“Groom him.” Faith repeated. “I was going to brush him, but then I thought how fun it looked to ride astride instead of in a side saddle…”

“Oh, it is.” Reese’s eyes darkened. “Fun to ride astride.”

“I never have before.” She looked almost guilty as she attempted to slide off Brutus’s back.

Reese slid his hands around her waist, easing her off the pony.

“Oh, yes, you have. Numerous times.” He pulled her to him, kissing the corner of her lips. “But never in a barn. Until now.”

“Reese, we can’t.” Faith murmured, already kissing him back and beginning to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“Of course, we can.” He backed her into one of the clean stalls.

“Reese! Faith! Are you in there?” Sam’s voice carried through the length of the stables. “Breakfast!”

“Maybe tomorrow.” Reese muttered.

Faith shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Reese!” Sam interrupted again, his voice closer.

“We’ll be there in a minute, Sam. We’re just putting Brutus away.” Reese grabbed Brutus’s reins before reaching over to kiss Faith one last time. “Meet me here in the morning after breakfast. I’ll teach you to ride astride. We’ll practice every morning.”

“On a horse.” Faith insisted.

“We can do that, too.” Reese led the pony into his stall. “If you insist.” He turned away from Brutus to face her. “But only if you’re a good girl and practice.”

“Reese…” Faith tried to warn him.

“And, sometimes, we won’t even need a horse…” He leaned toward her. Brutus leaned forward too, opened his mouth and took another chunk out of Reese’s arm. “Dammit!” Reese spun around to confront his attacker. The pony shied away, looking bored, uninterested.

Faith took a sugar cube out of her pocket and held it out to Reese.

“Don’t reward him!”

“I’m not.” Faith smiled at him. “I just thought you might like to make friends.”

“Not a chance.” Reese grumbled.

“We might be spending a lot of time in the barn.” Faith let her words trail off.

“On second thought…” Reese took the proffered treat, then grudgingly extended his hand to Brutus.

* * *

Reese announced his intentions at breakfast. “From now on, I’ll be giving Joy’s riding lessons.”

Charlie looked up from his plate.

Reese explained. “Faith wants to learn to ride…western style. I promised to teach her.”

“Do you have the time?” His uncle asked. “I can teach her as well as the little one.”

“I’ll teach her. Them.” Reese amended quickly. “I’ll find the time.”

“Okay by me.” Charlie added. “But if you change your mind…”

“I won’t.” Reese smiled down the table at Faith. “I just wanted everybody to know. Faith and I will be spending some time together each morning after breakfast.” Reese finished his meal and got up from the table.

Faith did the same, carefully heading in the opposite direction from Reese, her face, a becoming shade of pink.

Charlie waited until they’d both left the table, then addressed the others. “Sam, Joe, boys, find something to do away from the barn from now on.” Joe, the blacksmith, and the two ranch hands nodded in understanding.

“But, Pa,” Sam protested, “I clean the stables every morning. After breakfast.”

“Get up a bit earlier. Clean ’em before breakfast.” Charlie ordered.

Sam groaned.

Reese’s grandfather reached over to pat his youngest grandson on the shoulder. “One day,” Duncan promised Sam, “ye’ll understand and appreciate such thoughtfulness.”

* * *

In the days that followed, Faith fell more love with Reese and with the people living on the Trail T. She studied them all, learning the many ways each person contributed to the ranch. The kitchen was Sarah’s domain, the meals a communal affair. The children ate early, in the kitchen. The adults, including the two ranch hands, sat down to supper at the huge, dining table. It was a Jordan family tradition, begun by Reese’s father. Benjamin Jordan had spent his childhood eating alone, under the supervision of a nanny, who ate with the staff in the kitchen. Benjamin hadn’t been invited to sit down with his parents until after his sixteenth birthday. There was no such formality at the Trail T.