Authors: Susan Edwards
Smiling, Star stood to help, but Hattie’s frown made her resume her seat. All at once, the three scouts rushed in, presumably drawn by the aroma of food.
With one look at the men, Hattie squealed in horror. She held her apron over her nose. “Out! Out until you’ve bathed,” she ordered, ushering them back toward the kitchen.
Zeke held up his hands in horror. “A bath? Not on yer life.”
Hattie stepped back and rested her hands on her hips. “Then, you don’t eat.”
Zeb sniffed. His stomach rumbled loudly. “Colonel,” he beseeched, poking his head from the kitchen.
Grady, Star and Charles exchanged grateful looks that Hattie was willing to lay down the law. “Looks like you boys will have to do as she says if you want to eat.”
Hattie shook her head, holding her nose and grumbling as she ushered the men into the kitchen. Just before the door closed behind them, Star heard one of the men yell out, “Yer not touchin’ my hair.”
Grady chuckled, then groaned with pleasure as he tasted his food. Charles followed suit.
Though she enjoyed the meal, Star found it vastly amusing and entertaining to watch Grady. She shook her head. Men were the same, no matter their skin color. They all took enormous pleasure in a good meal. She’d learned a long time ago that when her mother wanted something from her father, all she had to do was fix his favorite meal, then make her request when he was too sated to argue. Her own husband hadn’t been any different.
Grady scowled at her. “What?”
She turned her attention back to her own full plate. “Nothing.”
Wiping his mouth with his napkin, Grady leaned back and patted his stomach. He sighed. “Food is one of life’s greatest pleasures.”
Chuckling, Charles eyed the heaping platters of food, rubbed his belly, then tossed his napkin down with a sigh of regret. “Maybe I should take Thomas back, Grady, old man.”
“Not without a fight you won’t.”
Charles sighed and stood, gathering his papers. “Then I shall have to visit often. That boy knows how to cook.”
Grady pushed away from the table too, and before Star could do the same, he was there, pulling her chair back for her. “Shall we get ready to go to market?”
Star smoothed her skirt. “I’m eager to see what it is like,” she admitted. After hearing so much about the place where you could go to purchase goods, Star was eager to view the scene for herself. The idea of just sitting around in rooms, no matter how nicely appointed they were, didn’t appeal to someone used to hard work from the time
Wi
greeted the dawn until
Hanwi
rose to rule the night. Inactivity had been the hardest part of being confined to the steamer.
And the thought of spending another day directly in Grady’s company thrilled her, though she tried to convince herself he was doing this just because she was a stranger in a new place. But the truth was, she’d gotten used to having him at her side all during the long trip down the Missouri River. She’d dreaded arriving in St. Louis, fearing he’d go his own way and leave her to simply care for his child, as they had agreed.
Following the two men out, Star let her gaze roam the back of Grady’s tall figure. She worried at how quickly this kind, gentle man had filled the lonely void in her life. For reasons she couldn’t understand, she felt closer to Renny’s father than she’d ever felt to her husband. She’d loved Two-Ree and, in his own way, he’d loved her, but they hadn’t shared the strong bond of friendship that she and Grady had developed. She’d never before felt that she’d missed anything during her marriage to Two-Ree, but she had known their feelings for one another weren’t the same deep love her parents shared. Now she was beginning to see how much more there could have been.
Two-Ree had treated her as most warriors did their wives. He’d given her children, protected and provided for them and was there to offer silent comfort when her visions haunted her nights. But rarely had they spent more than a few minutes conversing during the day. Star now looked forward to those times she could just talk or listen to Grady.
Star found she liked the close bond of friendship she and Grady had developed: the walking together, sharing meals, talking. Even when they sat in silence, she never felt alone.
Heading up the stairs to prepare herself for the trip to market, she glanced down and met his gaze. Awareness shot between them. Need and desire flooded her belly. Star sidestepped him one stair up, then turned and hurried the rest of the way, warning herself not to fall in love with him. This was crazy, these feelings very dangerous. Once he and Renny settled their differences, she and Morning Moon would either return home or make a new home for their family elsewhere. The last thing Grady needed was to complicate his life with a woman cursed by visions—and one whom he could never present to his society because of her Sioux blood.
But as she continued up the stairs, she knew when the time came, walking away would not be easy.
Nearly two hours later, Star and Grady stood in the foyer. He paced, while Star fidgeted with her full skirts and pulled at the gloves on her fingers. “What is keeping the girls?” he muttered. At the foot of the stairs, he shouted, “Ranait! The carriage is waiting.”
“Coming, Papa.”
“How do your women stand all this clothing all day, every day?” Star muttered, glaring at her fingers, then checking the position of her hat in the mirror.
Grady watched her fuss over her appearance—adjusting not for looks but comfort—and pictured her as she’d once been: clothed in her simple Indian garb. How did it feel to wear so little every day? He couldn’t imagine wearing only a breechclout or even just breeches outside his bedroom, and the sudden desire to experience the simple pleasure of the wind against his bare skin surprised him. The sound of running interrupted his contemplation. Ah, well, he mused. It would never happen. Not even when he returned Star to her people at the end of summer. He was too well-bred. Men of his station did not give in to such impulses.
A shame,
a voice in his head said.
“Renny, we are waiting!” he called, tapping his foot impatiently and wishing his daughter would hurry down the stairs. His eyes widened, then narrowed as he saw a blue blur sliding down the banister. Swearing beneath his breath, he jumped forward and caught his daughter before she went flying. He set her before him. “Since when do we slide down the banister, young lady?”
Renny assumed her rebellious pose: arms crossed, jaw jutting forward, a glare in her eyes. “Emma always let me.”
Grady didn’t believe her for a minute. “Young ladies use the stairs, and they
walk
in the house. You will conduct yourself in a manner befitting your upbringing.”
Renny pouted. “I told Emma you’d be mean.” Tossing her braided hair, she tore open the door and ran out of the house.
Grady wondered if every day would be filled with these quicksilver mood changes. He’d thought for sure when he’d found Renny curled at the foot of his bed last night that she’d begun to realize she needed him. But it looked as though they still had a long way to go.
He turned to Star. “Ready?”
She adjusted the red bow in her daughter’s hair, then sent the girl outside to the carriage. “Yes. What about Hattie?”
Grady frowned. The woman belonged in bed or resting, but she’d insisted on coming along to see to supplies personally. Before he could go check on her, the door directly opposite the front door in the foyer opened. It led to the porch at the back of the house, where the servants did a lot of their work and relaxing. “Good; now we can go—”
Words failed him when he caught sight of Zeb, Zac and Zeke. They had followed Hattie into the foyer. Not only had all three men bathed, but their beards were trimmed and combed, and their hair was brushed and tied back. Their clothing still reeked, however. Grady suspected one of Hattie’s reasons for going to market was to make sure the three brothers got new clothing.
“Well, I’ll be damned!”
“Ah, come on, Colonel, don’t go makin’ no big deal, okay?” Zeke glared at the woman who had forced cleanliness upon him.
Hattie shrugged. “Your choice. It makes no difference to me if you eat or not. Fetch the wagon. We are going to need to purchase many supplies, and you’re not riding in the carriage with Mr. O’Brien and Mrs. Star smelling like something that crawled into a hole in the ground and died.” She shoved them out onto the front porch.
Behind him, Star giggled. Grady smiled, then held out his hand. Together they burst out in laughter as they left the house. Outside, the carriage awaited. It had been cleaned and polished, and Jeffers held open its door, then climbed into the driver’s seat.
Grady and Star sat on one side, with the children across from them. Renny chatted to Morning Moon as the carriage followed the border of Lafayette Park. Inside, well-dressed gentlemen and ladies strolled along its verdant grounds or sat on benches. There was also a pond, which attracted many citizens, both wealthy and poor, young and old.
As their carriage entered the park at a gallop, two boys cut in front of it. Renny craned her neck to watch. “When can I go riding?” Excitement chased away her poutiness and her eyes shone eagerly.
“Perhaps tomorrow,” Grady said, pleased when she nodded happily and started pointing out places of interest to Star and Morning Moon.
The two Sioux were in awe. And though he hadn’t seen the city in nine years himself and was amazed at the astonishing growth that had taken place, Grady enjoyed seeing it all through Star’s eyes. As they passed three-storied elegant mansions, working-class neighborhoods with tiny, two-story brick buildings and front porch stoops, storefronts promising all manner of goods, and streets filled with horses, carriages, wagons and people going about their daily business, he tried to imagine the thrill of seeing it all for the first time.
But it was the marketplace that would truly put the wonder in her eyes.
Soulard Market teemed with vibrant life. The morass of humanity and noise was incredible. Vendors shouted and waved their goods at passing shoppers. Some beat on metal tins to attract customers. Crated chickens set up a din of their own, while pigs in pens squealed. Good-natured arguing and shouting competed with the greetings of friends and laughter. Groups of men in suits, tall hats and walking sticks engaged in earnest and serious conversation while their wives shopped, gossiped or discussed the latest fashions.
“What do you think?” Grady asked Star. He had her hand firmly on his arm to keep them from becoming separated. The girls were in front of him with Hattie. Zeb, Zeke and Zac, behind him and Star, were still grumbling about meddling women.
Star blinked. “What?”
Grady chuckled and bent his head to speak directly into her ear. “What do you think of the market?”
The feel of his lips brushing against the sensitive area below her ear made Star shiver. It was a moment before she could speak. “I’ve never seen anything like it, though all these people remind me of the end of summer, when all seven councils of the Sioux come together.”
“Grady O’Brien, is it really you?” The sudden voice came out of the blue, and Star glanced around for the speaker. She saw a large, matronly woman hurrying toward them. Beside her, Grady swore softly beneath his breath. She met his gaze with a silent question.
“I apologize in advance,” was all he had time to say before the woman descended.
“Why, it is you, Grady. You’ve returned after all these years! Splendid! Mr. Hamburg and I will have to have you and your delightful daughters over. My own darlings have both wed. Oh, there is so much to catch up on.” The woman stopped to regain her breath, her gaze traveling to Star. Her smile of welcome faded.
Beside her, Grady stiffened. “Mrs. Irma Hamburg, may I present Star Cartier of the Nebraska Territory. She is recently widowed, and she and her daughter are my guests.”
“Oh?” Her expression of shock turned to one of sly interest. “There is much to catch up on, I see. I shall have my husband call on you.”
Star noticed the change in the woman’s eyes and voice. She recognized it, having had to deal with it on board the
Annabella.
While most of the passengers had become friendlier after the initial shock of seeing an Indian woman dressed in the latest fashion had passed, some had never thawed.
Grady cupped her elbow. “We really must be going, Mrs. Hamburg. Give your husband my best.”
The woman smiled suddenly and a gleam came into her eyes. She waved frantically at someone behind Grady. “Yes. Well, I must be going as well. It will be most interesting to have you and…Mrs. Cartier over one evening.” She bustled off, calling out a name.
Star glanced over her shoulder and saw the woman greet two others. All three turned to peer at her and Grady.
“Well, you’ve just had the misfortune of meeting St. Louis’s worst gossipmonger. Your presence in my household will no doubt be the latest news for her and her cronies to spread.”
When she’d left her tribe, Star had had no idea how her presence would affect Grady. After two months on the steamboat, she had a better idea. “I am sorry, Grady.”
His brows rose. “For what?”
“I had no idea others would view you in this manner.”
Laughing, he took her arm and pulled her onward. “If you think a few gossiping magpies can harm me, or put a pall on my day, then you are mistaken. People like Irma Hamburg are boring, witless and have little of worth to do with themselves. Forget her. She can’t harm either of us.”
Star knew that wasn’t strictly so. She’d gleaned enough of the culture she was stepping into to know that her actions and presence had a definite effect on both of them. But for Grady, she put her troubled thoughts aside and gave herself over to the day—one that proved to be the most wondrous and overwhelming she had ever experienced.
She wandered from stall to stall, choosing strangely shaped and colored vegetables she’d never before seen, breads in fresh loaves and blocks of cheese. Some of the items Grady purchased didn’t look so appealing to eat. She wasn’t sure she’d find them to her liking, but to please her employer, she promised to try the new foods. The smells of aromatic coffee beans, smoked meats, ripe fruits, colorful flower stands and exotic spices competed with those of livestock, perfumed bodies and the odors of overly warm bodies all pressed together.