Teton Splendor (3 page)

“James thinks the man is looking for money from Mr. Yancey,” Lucy continued to whisper. “Why else would he show up here?”

“Why else indeed,” Sophia wondered out loud. She headed for the door. “I can find my own breakfast, Lucy. No need to alert the cook.” Without waiting for Lucy’s reply, Sophia headed out the door and down the hall. Her skirts swayed lightly around her legs as she bounced down the stairs. A soft smile spread across her lips. Her night had ended like a fairy tale. Andrew had walked her to the foot of these very same stairs to bid her a good night, and pulled her into his embrace.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Sophia,” he’d said in a sultry tone, then claimed her lips in a kiss that was anything but chaste. Surprised by his unexpected boldness, she’d stood stiffly in his arms, unsure of what to do. She remembered gripping Andrew’s shoulders for support, trying to relax. His mouth had crushed down hard on her lips, and a slight feeling of panic engulfed her. He’d never kissed her like that before. It had always been quick, gentle pecks on the cheek, and rarely on the mouth. Before she had the chance to respond in any way, he’d broken away from her. Footsteps and voices headed toward them, and Andrew once again acted like the gentleman she knew him to be. Clearing his throat, he’d kissed the top of her hand, and bowed.

“Until tomorrow,” were his parting words.

Sophia cleared her mind. She glanced at the spot where her first real kiss had occurred. She touched her fingers to her lips. If only she had known what to do in response, perhaps then the kiss would have been more enjoyable. She’d heard other girls talk about their first kisses, and how it had left butterflies in their stomachs. She must have done something wrong. She certainly hadn’t felt any butterflies, only a sudden need to get away. Should she dare and ask Andrew to teach her how to kiss him properly? 

Muffled sounds drifted to her ears from her father’s study. Angry male voices. Sophia frowned. She’d never heard her father raise his voice in anger to anyone. She headed down the hall, and lifted her hand to knock. Just before her knuckles made contact with the wooden door, she paused. She’d clearly heard her name. Why would her father be discussing her with a complete stranger?

Glancing over her shoulder in both directions, she wanted to be sure no one stood in the hall. Then she quietly depressed the handle on the door, and carefully pushed it open a few inches.

“She’s got the right to know, Mr. Yancey,” a deep, resonating voice drifted to her ears.

“I will not upset her with this,” her father responded heatedly. “We’ve been over this already, Joseph.”

“Dammit. I made a promise to Raven’s grandfather that I would bring her to him,” Joseph argued, his voice growing louder.

“Stop calling her that. Her name is Sophia. And I also made a promise to keep her safe.”

Sophia’s heart pounded in her ears. She wished her corset wasn’t strapped so tight. Feeling  light-headed, she couldn’t catch a deep enough breath. Nothing her father or the other man said made any sense to her.

“Maybe you should ask her what she wants,” Joseph raged.

“Out of the question.”

“She’s standing right outside the door. I’m sure she’s heard enough already to wonder what’s going on. Why don’t you invite her in?”

Sophia gasped. Before she had a chance to react, the door opened in front of her. Her eyes widened and she sucked in a deep breath, or as deep as her corset would allow. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she stared up into the midnight blue eyes of Joseph Walker, and her knees buckled beneath her.

Chapter Three

“Oh no, you don’t,” Joseph said, and quickly reached for the girl’s arms. “Stand up, woman, and catch your breath.” He gave her a gentle shake.

“Sophia, sweetheart, are you all right?” Yancey appeared at his side, a concerned look on his face.

The girl was limp like a sack of grain, and Joseph scooped her up in his arms. His hand tangled in the endless amount of her bulky dress and all that fabric underneath it, and he fumbled awkwardly to get a secure hold on her. Cursing silently, he headed for the leather couch. The fragrant scent of something flowery assaulted his nose, and he gritted his teeth.

“Set me down, I’m not going to swoon,” she said, her eyes wide with panic. She squirmed in his arms, and braced her hand against his chest.  Joseph tore his eyes away from her full lips. Rather than let her go, his hold tightened.

“If you don’t want me to drop you, you’ll stop your fidgeting,” he said slowly. “I’ll set you down on the couch so you don’t fall on your rear end.” His lips curved in a slow grin. “But it seems you got plenty of padding in this dress. There’s enough material here to cover two hunting lodges.”

Her jaw dropped open, and a spark of anger shot from her eyes. “Set me down right now,” she demanded. Her head turned toward Yancey, who was right beside her.

“It’s all right, Sophia. Joseph will set you down on the couch,” he said softly. “I’ll call for James to bring you some water. Is there anything else you need?”

Joseph almost rolled his eyes. No wonder she’d nearly fainted. Did everyone treat her as if she was about to break at any moment? He reached the couch, and leaned forward, setting her on the leather cushions. Raven scrambled to sit up straight, glaring at him, then at her father. She hadn’t been heavy in his arms, but the sudden emptiness when he straightened his back surprised him. His reaction to her was no different than it had been last evening, and Joseph struggled to clear his mind. What was it about her that affected him the way it did? She was nothing like any woman he’d associated with before.

He’d always pictured her to look like any other Bannock girl, dressed in a simple deerskin dress, with her hair flowing freely or braided at her sides. Instead, he found a spoiled and pampered white woman. How was he ever going to present her to Two Bears?  That thought, and many more, had kept him awake most of last night. For a while, he’d blamed his inability to sleep on the soft mattress, stuffy pillows and feathery covers. Finally, he’d pulled a sheet off the bed and stretched out on the floor, but the hard surface hadn’t brought him any peace either. 

Raven’s sudden high-pitched, angry words interrupted his thoughts. “What I need,” she said, her eyes on Yancey, “is an explanation as to what you were discussing a moment ago.” She pushed herself up off the couch, and swayed momentarily on unsteady legs. Joseph’s hand darted out to steady her. She yanked her arm away as if his touch repulsed her. Joseph clenched his jaw anew, and stepped back.

Yancey coughed, his eyes darting to him. Joseph wasn’t about to come to his rescue. Yancey had lied to Raven all her life, and now he was faced with telling her the truth. Another complication Joseph hadn’t foreseen. He’d assumed she knew about her parents, and about the life waiting for her beyond the Missouri. Instead, she was completely ignorant of her past. Yancey had tried to explain to him that he had done what he thought was best to keep her identity hidden from Oliver Sabin, the man who had killed her parents.

Sabin hadn’t been seen or heard from since Yancey disappeared from the mountains with Raven all those years ago. Joseph’s own father had gone looking for him after he buried Laurent and his wife, with no luck. After nearly twenty years, Joseph highly doubted that Sabin was a threat to Raven anymore.

“Who is Raven?” she asked, this time starting straight at him. Joseph hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he should be the one to break the news to her. Since she had no idea about her past, he was  unsure how to explain the truth to her.

“Well?” she pressed, her eyes darting from him to her father, her hands at her hips.

“Raven, or more specifically Little Raven, is the name your mother gave to you,” Joseph answered slowly, his eyes locked on her, trying to read her reaction.

Yancey groaned loudly behind him.

“My mother?” she repeated softly. She looked toward Yancey. “You never told me my mother gave me an Indian name.”

“I didn’t think it was important,” Yancey stammered.

“And why are you here? What does this have to do with you?” Her eyes narrowed on him once again. Joseph clenched his jaw. She may be soft and pampered, but the fire that sparked from her eyes told him there was a strong and confident woman underneath all those exterior layers.

Joseph broke eye contact with her, and nodded to Yancey. “Would you like me to leave the room, so you can tell her? She deserves to know the truth.”

Yancey sank into the couch. He leaned forward, his hands at his temples, staring at the ground.

“The truth about what, Daddy?” Raven asked solemnly. She sat down next to Yancey, and placed her hand on his arm. That she loved Yancey, and that he loved her was obvious.

Something jabbed at Joseph’s insides. Perhaps this had been a mistake. Perhaps it would have been better to leave the past in the past. Two Bears had a right to know his granddaughter.

Yancey glanced up at her, his eyes dull and watery. He reached for her hand, and clasped it tightly between his.

“Sophia, you know how much I love you,” he said, his voice shaky. She nodded, her eyes wide and waiting. “Please understand that what I did, not telling you the truth, I did to keep you safe.”

Raven’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. Joseph turned away from the scene. He stared at the orange flames dancing in the hearth. His arms ached with a need to sweep Raven into his embrace, and shield her from the heartache she was about to experience. He cursed himself. This was all his fault.

“Sophia, I’m not your real father.” Yancey’s voice cracked. Joseph barely heard him speak the words. The only sound left in the room came from the soft crackling of the fire.

“What . . . what are you saying, Daddy?”

 “Your real father is dead. He gave you into my care. He was my mentor while I was in the wilderness.”

The fabric of her skirts rustled, and the leather on the couch creaked.

“My entire life has been a lie?” Raven asked softly. “All my life, people I knew and considered my friends talked about me behind my back. They didn’t think I was good enough for them because of my tainted blood. And now you’re telling me I’m not even your daughter? I’ve worked so hard to be accepted, hoping that people would see beyond the color of my skin, and it was all for nothing?” Her voice rose with each word she spoke.

“Sophia, that’s not true. You will always be my daughter. Can’t you see that--”

“No, I can’t see why you lied to me,” she cried. Her skirts swished loudly. Joseph turned just as she darted for the door.

“Sophia,” Yancey called, and bolted from the couch.

Joseph held out his hand. “Let me,” he said, and followed her out into the hall. Raven turned, her brown eyes shimmering with tears. Joseph wished he could turn back time. He should have thought this through better. He’d been blinded with a need to bring Two Bears’ granddaughter back to him, and hadn’t seen the hurt it would cause her.

“Stay away from me,” she called. “Leave me alone.” She gathered her full skirts in her hands, and dashed away. By the time she reached the staircase, Joseph caught her by the arm.

“Rav . . . Sophie, wait.” The panic in her eyes tore at his heart. “Let me explain about your parents.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” she said coldly, and sniffed. “Release my arm before I call for help.”

“You owe it to your Pa to hear him out,” Joseph continued, ignoring her threat.

“I don’t think it’s any of your business to tell me what to do,” she hissed, and yanked her arm from his grasp. She fumbled with her skirts and marched up the stairs.

“Aren’t you in the least bit curious about what happened to your real folks?” Joseph pressed on, refusing to let her walk away. She stared straight ahead, her chin up in the air, and her spine so stiff that she had to be in pain.  She continued up the stairs in silence, and Joseph followed several steps behind. He couldn’t help but notice the seductive sway of her hips, and the way the bodice of her dress hugged her slender back. Those cumbersome women’s undergarments she wore emphasized her curves, but he’d be willing to bet that she’d look even better without all those unnatural contraptions.

At the top of the stairwell, Joseph took the last two steps in one leap, and reached for her arm again. Apparently she was under the impression that if she ignored him, he would simply go away.

“You can’t run away from this, Sophie,” he said, pulling her to a stop.

She spun to face him fully. “My name is Sophia,” she spat. “I have asked you once to let go of me. If I scream for help, James will call for the constable.”

Joseph grinned. “Is that a threat? Or a dare?” He stepped closer, inhaling the fragrant flowery scent coming from her hair. He couldn’t understand his need to provoke her, but he enjoyed watching her spirited side emerge.

Raven’s eyes widened, and her chest heaved. “How dare you,” she sputtered. “Not only do you dress like a savage heathen, but you also seem to have the manners of one. Now release my arm at once.” Her look of contempt traveled up and down his body.

Joseph raised his eyebrows. His grin widened. “I don’t think you know what a savage heathen even looks like, Miss High and Mighty,” he answered casually. “Your Bannock grandfather sent me to find you. He wants to meet you. It might be good for you to step outside these walls and see what you’re missing in life.”

She stared, open-mouthed. He let go of her arm and took a step back. Like a rabbit caught in a snare and released, she darted past him, and ran down the hall. She pushed open one of several doors lining the corridor, and disappeared without a backwards glance.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, and ran a hand over his face. Couldn’t he do or say anything right? Provoking her anger wasn’t the best way to convince her that she needed to come with him to see Two Bears.

Joseph turned and headed back down the stairs. Eventually she would have to come and talk to Yancey. For now, it was probably best to let the news she’d learned sink in. Maybe by the time she was willing to talk, his own head would be on straight again, and he could think more clearly and rationally. His mind hadn’t been right since the moment he first laid eyes on her.

****

Sophia pressed her back against the door to her room. She held her hand over her chest, and tried to calm her frantic heartbeat. Catching her breath proved to be impossible. She stared, not focusing on anything in particular. Her vision blurred, and she allowed the tears to fall freely down her face.

“No,” she mumbled over and over, moving her head from side to side. It couldn’t be true. She wasn’t Byron Yancey’s real daughter. Why had he lied to her? The scene she’d just lived through replayed over and over in her mind. Her father . . . the man she’d always thought was her father, the one person who had loved her all her life and not judged her by the color of her skin, had deceived her.

Sophia swallowed back the lump in her throat. She walked toward her bed on unsteady legs, and sank down onto the mattress. Holding her head between her hands, she cried until there were no more tears left. Sniffling and wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, she sat up straight. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating her room in a bright glow. She had no idea how much time had passed. She had to talk to her father, and find out exactly why he had lied. He’d mentioned something about protecting her. Did it really matter?

Sophia moved her head from side to side. She raised her chin and sat up taller. No, it didn’t matter. Her name was Sophia Yancey, and no one could tell her otherwise. No one would have to know any different.