Bouquet for Iris (13 page)

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Authors: Diane T. Ashley

BOOK: Bouquet for Iris
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“Can you see the raft traveling toward Ross’s Landing?” Adam stood close behind her and pointed to a small shape in the giant U of the river. He didn’t realize anything was wrong until Iris slumped to the ground at his feet.

He knelt beside her, his heart climbing up into his throat. “Miss Landon? Iris, are you hurt?”

No answer. He lifted her gently against his chest and listened for her heartbeat. It seemed steady enough. In fact he couldn’t find any reason for her to lose consciousness at all. He loosened her bonnet and pulled it off, checking to make sure there was no evidence of injury to her head. Nothing. Nothing but a profusion of curls that danced around her face. He was about to loosen her collar when Iris groaned.

Her eyes fluttered open. “What happened?”

Adam shook his head. “I don’t know. One minute you were standing there looking, and the next thing I knew, you were swooning at my feet.”

“I don’t swoon.” She glared up at him and tried to push him away, but Adam would not let go of her. He was relieved that she seemed to be recovering fairly quickly.

“Well, how do you explain it then?”

He could feel her shrug. “I think I got dizzy. The ground seemed to be moving, and then darkness swallowed me up.”

“Vertigo.” He nodded. “It’s not a common complaint, but I have read of it.” Now that he was certain Iris was neither ill nor wounded, he could relax and enjoy the feeling of holding her close to his heart. “It’s caused by heights.”

They sat like that for a few moments, as close as a breath. Her head was on his shoulder, her curls tickling his chin. He could have remained that way the rest of the day, breathing in the sweet scent of her cologne. But then she jerked. Was she having a seizure?

His alarm eased when he recognized the giggle that bubbled up from her throat. Iris put a hand over her mouth and glanced up at him, her eyes twinkling, inviting him to laugh with her.

Here he was thinking romantic thoughts about how perfectly she fit against his chest. He was a little offended that she found their situation humorous. Was she laughing at him? “What is it?”

She shook her head, loosening more curls in the process. Soon her hair would be tumbling around both of them. He could almost imagine how delicious it would look and the silky feel of it in his hands. His thoughts were disrupted by another giggle. This one ended in a hiccup.

Adam loosened his hold, and she sat up. “What is so funny?” he asked.

“I just don’t understand how anyone so tall can have a fear of heights.” Her eyes danced as she looked at him, inviting him to join the joke.

He chuckled. “Fear of heights.”

She nodded and giggled again.

Adam couldn’t help it. He laughed out loud. She laughed with him, the noise wrapping around him like a hug. The laughter built up inside him like a volcano, rushing to the surface again and again. He would think it was gone, and he would stop. But then he’d hear her still laughing, and it would overwhelm him again. He doubled over and laughed so long that he was sure his belly would be sore later.

He’d forgotten how good it felt to really laugh. There had been so little to even smile about over the past year. Life had become far too grim. But for this one evening he would forget about all his problems. Alone with Iris on top of the mountain, Adam determined that the rest of the world and its weary troubles could fade to insignificance.

Eventually their laughter abated. He stood and offered his hand to Iris, pleased when she accepted his help.

He glanced at her from time to time as they made their way back to the village. He was glad she had not put her bonnet back on.

As if she felt his gaze, Iris reached up and pushed the curls back from her face. “What I wouldn’t give for a handful of hairpins.”

Adam wanted to tell her how beautiful her hair was. How he thought it would be a shame to force it into submission. But those words would take them into dangerous territory. Territory he could ill afford to explore. He tightened his mouth and kept his attention on the path ahead, helping her when necessary and releasing her as quickly as possible.

Her friends fell on Iris the moment they entered the village. As Adam hung back, she glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled.

A butterfly tickled his stomach, an echo of their earlier merriment. It brought a smile to his lips, and he bowed to her as she disappeared into a group of eager Cherokee women.

Iris wondered why God had seen fit to saddle her with such impossible hair. It would not be tamed.

She let her bonnet hang down her back as she and Camie helped the Indian women prepare a meal. She peeled and chopped vegetables to go into a savory stew and then helped ladle the hot mixture into bowls and trenchers.

When everyone gathered to eat, she looked for Adam but could not see his familiar figure anywhere. She tried to tamp down the feeling of disappointment. Just because they had shared a few moments of closeness was no reason to expect him to stay around and keep her company. She sat down next to Lance and Camie and concentrated on her meal.

Lance sopped the last of his stew with a wedge of corn bread and patted his stomach. “We’d better head back so we can get down the mountain before it gets dark.”

The local chief had some of the older children ready the wagon while Iris and Camie helped with the cleanup. Before long they were waving good-bye to their hosts and heading back down the mountain.

As Lance negotiated the steep path, Iris distracted herself from the dizzying views by wondering what had happened to Adam after they returned to the village. She felt like he’d shown her a side he rarely allowed others to see. The laughter they’d shared at the citadel of rocks was a memory she knew she would always cherish. It had been so good to see his anger and bitterness replaced by simple pleasure. Adam Stuart was a complicated man—intriguing, infuriating, and fascinating. Perhaps that was why she couldn’t banish his handsome features from her memory.

eleven

Iris reached for her cloak and pulled it on. She was glad the past week had drifted by without alarms or problems. The girls had welcomed her back with warm hugs and soft kisses, and they had all settled into a routine as the outside temperature rose and the days began to lengthen. Every time she and the girls heard a horse canter up to the house, however, Iris rushed to the balcony to see if the visitor was riding a tall black stallion and sporting a creased suit. And every time, she turned away and tried to quell the disappointment that tightened her chest. She didn’t know why she was drawn to Adam Stuart. There were several reasons she should want to avoid his company. But something made her want to help him.

She pushed aside thoughts of the intriguing Mr. Stuart as she prepared to depart. She had made plans to spend her afternoon off with Camie. They were going to town to shop.

“Why can’t we go with you?” June asked, her hand bunched in the folds of Iris’s cloak.

“We’ll be very good.” Anna stood on the other side, her face upturned.

Josephine walked into the nursery. “Now you leave Miss Iris alone. It’s her afternoon off, and she needs to spend it the way she wants to.”

“It’s too far for you to walk, my dears.” Iris knelt between them. “I am going to see my friend, Mrs. Sherer. You remember her, don’t you?”

They nodded.

“We’re going to do some shopping. If you are very good and don’t give Josephine any trouble, I’ll bring each of you a peppermint stick.”

Their faces brightened.

Josephine put an arm around each girl’s shoulders. “I’m not sure they like peppermint.”

As Iris descended the main staircase, she could hear June and Anna protesting that they loved peppermint more than anything else in the world.

Iris opened the front door and breathed deeply. Spring had finally come, and she was grateful. Warm sun kissed her cheeks as she walked along, considering what she would say if she saw Adam Stuart. Which facet would he show her the next time they met? Would he be the outlandish flirt, the angry pessimist, or would his hazel gaze and ready laughter remind her of the charming guide at Lookout Mountain?

Iris walked to Camie’s house, her mood buoyed by her thoughts. The Sherers’ housekeeper had returned from visiting her family in Georgia and was going to keep the twins while their mother shopped.

Camie filled Iris in on the latest news as she drove the wagon the two miles to Daisy. “Lance says that Nathan’s uncle is on a rampage. He failed to get the council to go along with his latest scheme to take Mr. Spencer’s farm away. He’s apparently gone to the district judge to ask that the land be put up for auction.”

“I cannot see how Nathan abides his uncle’s attitude.”

“You and I are more in the minority than you realize.” Camie frowned at her. “A lot of people in Daisy don’t think an Indian ought to have that nice a place.”

“They’re jealous of his success.” Iris rolled her eyes. “Those same people are probably envious of your hardworking husband, nice home, and beautiful children.”

“Jealousy and envy are strong emotions.” Camie’s lips straightened into a flat line. “It’s why God warns us not to covet what our neighbor has.”

Iris shook her head. “Well I, for one, refuse to worry about the malcontents in town. Mr. Spencer has owned that land for decades, and nothing is going to change that. Why, even President Jackson is not trying to remove Indians who own their land. The Spencers will be living in that house for generations to come.”

Camie slowed the wagon as they made it to town. It was a good thing she did as a man came dashing out of Mr. Pierce’s store and ran right in front of the wagon, his arms waving. “Remember the Alamo! Remember the Alamo!” He untied his horse from the hitching post, threw himself into the saddle, and galloped away.

“What do you suppose that was about?” Iris asked.

“I don’t know, but why don’t we go to the store and see what we can find out?” Camie climbed down and tied off the horse’s reins.

From the sound of it, most of the town was there. The ladies had to push their way inside.

“Hi, Mrs. Sherer.” The feminine voice belonged to a woman about their age. She was stunning, with exotic green eyes and shiny auburn hair.

Camie nodded at the beautiful woman. “Hello, Miss Coleridge.”

The woman looked to Iris. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” She held out a hand, and Iris took it, instantly impressed by the indomitable spirit she saw in the woman’s eyes. “Hi. My name’s Margaret Coleridge. It’s a pleasure to meet a friend of Camie’s.”

“Likewise.” Iris squeezed her hand. “I look forward to getting to know you better.”

“It’s a small town.” Miss Coleridge smiled warmly. “I’m sure we will bump into each other with regularity.”

“What’s going on in here?” Camie nodded toward the crowd of people clustered around the long counter at the front of the store.

Margaret’s expression grew serious. “It’s bad news, I’m afraid. There was a battle in a place called the Alamo in Texas Territory. They are saying that Davy Crockett, our recent congressman, was killed in the battle.”

Nathan sauntered over, wiping his hands on his apron. “It’s worse than that.”

Someone pushed past Iris, jostling her elbow. “What could be worse?”

“They’re saying Davy and several others survived the battle and were assassinated after they surrendered.”

Iris covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes filled with horror.

Someone banged on the counter with the butt of his gun. “Remember the Alamo!” The cry was picked up and repeated, making Iris feel uncomfortable.

Nathan nodded his head toward the door. “I think maybe you ladies should leave.” He tried to guide all three of them to safety, but somehow Iris found herself carried in the other direction by the restive crowd. Even though she was tall enough to see over most of the men in the store, she could not push hard enough to get to the exit.

An elbow jabbed her in the ribs at the same time that a booted foot trod on her shoe, and Iris could feel herself falling. Panic clawed its way up her throat. If she fell here, she might be seriously hurt by the angry crowd.

A strong arm snaked around her waist, and Iris found herself with her nose pressed into a hard chest. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” The man twisted so that he was between her and the shoving crowd then half-dragged, half-carried her to safety outside.

Iris pulled away from the strong arm, her mouth open to thank her rescuer. She looked up into blazing hazel eyes and snapped her mouth shut.

Adam Stuart pointed a finger at her. “You need a keeper, Miss Landon. Didn’t your parents teach you not to go into a mob like that? Those men are ready to riot.”

“Maybe so, but no one asked you to come to my rescue.” Iris wondered what had happened to the appealing man at the citadel of rocks. Adam’s charm had evaporated like early morning dew. She glared at him. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”

Camie ran over to where they stood. “I was so worried.” She hugged Iris close. “Thank you, Mr. Stuart. I would never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to Iris.”

“Well then, maybe you should keep her on a shorter leash.” He strode down the street without another word.

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