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Authors: Stephanie Grace Whitson

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction

Walks the Fire (35 page)

BOOK: Walks the Fire
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“What happened to Soaring Eagle?”

Jesse told what she knew.

Questions went on and on late into the night until LisBeth’s mind was too full to grasp any more, and Jesse’s voice was nearly gone.

At last, LisBeth looked down at the quilt “Now I understand why you would never let it go.”

Jesse looked up. “Are you angry with me?”

“Oh, Mama, I wanted to be angry, but I can’t be. You said you didn’t tell me because you love me. I know you love me, Mama. How can I be angry with you when all these years you kept the secrets inside? All these years I thought you were just Mama, and there was a whole
world
of things about you I didn’t know! I can’t be angry, Mama. I have such a
little
lump of troubles to worry over, and you’ve had such a
mountain
of them.” LisBeth impulsively knelt by her mother, encircled her in her arms, and wept her first woman’s tears.

Augusta joined in the tears, and when LisBeth and Jesse finally stood up, Jesse smiled sheepishly and said, “Well, Augusta, I told you earlier that I’ve had my moments, and now you know about all of them. You’ve been a dear friend. I thought you deserved to hear this, too. I hope it doesn’t change things… but if it does, I’ll understand.” Jesse steeled herself and prepared to protect LisBeth from whatever hurtful thing might come their way, now that Augusta knew she had taken in a woman of questionable past with a child of questionable heritage.

“Jesse King,” Augusta scolded dabbing away her tears and shaking a dimpled hand in her face, “I’m no idiot, and I figured you had a few secrets to tell. And don’t think I haven’t been able to put two and two together and get four these past few years with all the Indian trouble and seeing your reactions to the news and the talk in the dining room.

“Land sakes, woman! I knew there was more to the Injuns in your story than you let on. I ain’t as equality minded as you, Jesse King, but you’re a fine Christian woman, and you’ve raised your daughter to be a fine Christian girl, and what folks don’t know won’t hurt ’em. And that’s that.”

So LisBeth and Jesse King and Augusta Hathaway went to their rooms to rest for the hour that remained before dawn. Jesse spread the tattered quilt out on her bed and remembered the things that belonged only to her and Rides the Wind.

Augusta sank onto her down comforter and worried over the future.

But LisBeth lay awake, reviewing it all in her mind, and taking up a heavy burden.
How can I ever marry MacKenzie,
she thought,
now that I know? How can I ever marry any respectable man?
For LisBeth had heard the dining room talk and had read the newspaper articles. They described “fiends in human form” committing “barbarous treachery” with “no regard for human life.” Mama had described a man who loved his wife and child. It was all so confusing!
But,
LisBeth reasoned,
we live in the world of whites.
She had seen how half-breeds were treated, and now she had become one of them.
My life is all tatters, just like Mama’s quilt. But Mama did the best she could.
LisBeth decided to be brave, like her father, Rides the Wind. She would keep the hurt to herself. And in that moment, LisBeth became a woman, just like her mother.

Twenty-nine

… but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 3:13–14

“That’ll do, Mac…
you can close ’er up.” J. W. barked the order so loud that MacKenzie heard him easily, even though J. W. was in the back storeroom and MacKenzie was sweeping the floor near the display window up front. The order had its desired effect. Two young ladies who had been dallying at the candy counter jumped and scurried out. Mrs. Bond decided she’d take six yards of the double pink and forego the California gold—“although Charity would look
so
lovely in gold at the church social next week.” Mrs. Bond made the latter comment as off-handedly as possible. Still, when she spoke Charity’s name, she watched young MacKenzie carefully for any reaction to the sound of her daughter’s name.

Apparently MacKenzie had something on his mind. Mrs. Bond tried again.

“You
are
going
to the church social,
aren’t
you
,
MacKenzie?”

As Mac measured the fabric, J. W. walked to the front of the store, loudly jingling the door keys. Mac cut and folded the fabric, bound it in brown paper, and tied the package with string.

“Shall I put this on your account, Mrs. Bond?”

“Oh, yes, MacKenzie, please,” she sighed and rolled her eyes, “I’m certain Charity will be in for at
least
one more shopping spree before the social. She’ll need gloves and… oh, I forgot! You’re new in town, aren’t you MacKenzie? I’m
certain
Charity would be
delighted
to have you join her and her friends at the social. Charity would be
happy
to introduce you to the other young people at the church. You haven’t had much chance to meet anyone, have you?”

J. W. rattled the keys again and cleared his throat. “Have a good day, Mrs. Bond. Thank you for coming. My best to the family.” He swung the door wide.

Mrs. Bond was not so easily put off. “So, then, MacKenzie, I’ll be certain to have Charity stop by tomorrow. You two can make arrangements then.”

J. W. raised one eyebrow behind Mrs. Bond’s back and shook his head at MacKenzie, frowning.

“Well, thank you just the same, Mrs. Bond. I
will
be attending the social, of course, but I’ll probably be late. I have to help close up here, you know, and I wouldn’t want Charity to have to wait for me.” As he spoke, MacKenzie took Mrs. Bond’s arm and politely escorted her toward the front of the store. Agnes Bond suddenly found herself standing on the boardwalk just outside the dry goods store, talking to the closed door.

J. W. had already turned the lock in the door and pulled down the shades. Grasping her package firmly, Agnes launched herself down the boardwalk and across the street. She had not reached the other side before a smile wreathed her dimpled face.
How silly of me,
she thought.
Charity won’t want this double pink. I’m sure she’ll want me to exchange it, but I’ll be much too busy putting up preserves. She’ll just have to do it herself!

When J. W. closed the door to the store, he slapped MacKenzie on the back. “Good work, my boy! Now, let me tell you one thing about the dry goods business. Buy the best merchandise, sell at a reasonable price, and,” he winked broadly,
“never,
but
never
let Agnes Bond plan your social life! A mother in search of a husband for her daughter is not a thing to be trifled with.”

MacKenzie grinned back. “Oh, Charity’s not so bad, Mr. Miles. She’s just a bit spoiled, that’s all.”

“A
bit
spoiled! Kindness just drips off your tongue, young man.”

MacKenzie changed the subject. Pulling a book from under the counter, he said, “Oh! I almost forgot… I need to pay for this!”

Miles took it to ring it up and read out loud.
“Memoirs of the Savage West,
by Francis Day.” He looked up at MacKenzie. “You interested in the Indian Wars, Mac?”

“I read a review in the paper. It said ‘she shows that she understands the great West,’ and I thought it might be interesting reading. I was still pretty young when this all started.”

J. W. didn’t ask any more questions. He took Mac’s money, wrapped up the book, and they left the store together—out the
back
door and away from Agnes Bond. Mac jogged briskly around the back of the livery stable and into the hotel’s front door. Looking carefully about, he walked quietly through the dining room and into the kitchen where LisBeth was helping her mother prepare supper.

Jesse smiled a welcome. LisBeth didn’t look up until Mac called her name.

“LisBeth.” It was Mac’s turn to feel awkward. Instead of the blushing, trembling girl whom he had seen when he first arrived, here was a calm young woman who seemed—well—downright uninterested in what he might have to say. She’d been acting this way for a couple of weeks now, and he had to admit that it made him feel awkward. It also made LisBeth darned attractive.

Mac held out the package. “This came in over at Miles’s. I know you like to read and thought you might enjoy it”

LisBeth took the gift half-heartedly and unwrapped it. Scanning the title she flushed and turned to Jesse. “It’s that book by Mrs. Day, Mother. Another tale of bloodthirsty Indians and the helpless white folk they’re murdering.” Turning to Mac, she added bitterly, “I wonder, Mr. Baird, does Mrs. Day mention at all that the white people in question had just violated another treaty and taken more of the Indians’ land? Does Mrs. Day mention the defenseless
Indian
women and children murdered by the infantry?”

“LisBeth!” Jesse snapped. “MacKenzie has shown you a kindness. Where are your manners?”

“Thank you, MacKenzie,” LisBeth said mechanically.

MacKenzie stared at the book with regret “I’m sorry, LisBeth… I only meant to… I didn’t mean to…” He decided to change the subject. “I really came to ask you to the church social next week. But I guess you won’t want to go with me. I’m sorry I…”

Jesse interrupted. “MacKenzie, you need not apologize for bringing my daughter a gift. It was a very nice thing to do, and if
she
is too rude to thank you properly,
I
say thank you. Thank you very much for being so kind.” Jesse turned to LisBeth, expecting her to pick up with the conversation. Instead, LisBeth carefully removed her apron, folded it across the back of a chair, and left the kitchen.

MacKenzie watched her go. Picking up the wrapping and the book, he turned to leave the kitchen.

“MacKenzie, wait,” Jesse said. “Let me go talk to her. I’m sure she’d love to go to the social with you. Just let me go see what on earth has gotten into her!”

MacKenzie grinned. “Thanks, Mrs. King. I sure can’t figure her out. I thought she sort of liked me.” He became flustered and in front of LisBeth’s
mother,
of all people! “Not that she’s flirted or anything…”

Jesse lowered her voice. “I think LisBeth would be a little fool not to like you, MacKenzie… and I didn’t raise a fool. If you’ll just be patient, I’ll try to get to the bottom of this.”

MacKenzie settled into the kitchen chair and rolled up his sleeves. “Just put me to work, Mrs. King… and I’ll be glad to wait.” He was suddenly very earnest. “I really
do
want her to go with me to the church social.”

Augusta charged in the back door calling, “Jesse, now
here’s
a mess of beans if you ever saw one. I just
knew
that garden would be worth the effort!” Augusta had heard Mac’s request for work, and setting the basket full of beans in front of him, she slapped him heartily on the back and ordered, “Snap ’em, young man!”

Mac set to work, and Jesse went after LisBeth.

She could hear LisBeth crying before she opened the door to her room. At the sound of the creaking hinges, LisBeth looked up. Seeing Jesse, she said dramatically, “Oh, Mother! I was going to be so brave, so grown up. I just decided I wouldn’t
care
that I couldn’t marry Mac. I just quit looking at him, and sometimes I don’t even think about him. I’ve decided to go to the university, Mother. I’ll study to become a teacher, like Hortense. I’ll give my life to teaching, and I won’t even
care
that I can’t be married. I had it all planned out, and it seemed all right. Besides, MacKenzie never noticed me before.”

She added miserably, “Then he had to go and give me that
stupid
book
and ask me to the church social. Mother! MacKenzie Baird didn’t know I
existed
for all the weeks he’s been in Lincoln. How come when I decide I don’t
care
…”

“But you do care, ,” Jesse interrupted. LisBeth shrugged and made a face.

“You
do
care,” Jesse insisted.

“Of course I care,” she muttered. “But it doesn’t matter. Because no one as nice as MacKenzie Baird would ever marry me.”

“Why on earth
not,
LisBeth?”

LisBeth tried not to say it. She didn’t want to say it. But the word hung in the air, and at last she grabbed hold of it and flung it at her mother. “Because I’m a half-breed, that’s why! I read the papers, Mother. I know what people will think. What they will say. When he finds out the truth, MacKenzie won’t want me to walk on the same side of the
street
with him, let alone go to the church social. And heaven forbid that I even
think
the word
marriage
!”

Jesse grew impatient. “Aren’t you being just a bit overdramatic? The young man has merely given you a gift and asked you to a church social.”

“You don’t understand, Mother!” came the angry retort. “I
can’t
have a normal life, now, because I’m not a
normal
girl.
My
father ran around the prairie half naked scalping his enemies. How would
that
read on a wedding announcement?!”

BOOK: Walks the Fire
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