Distant Heart (5 page)

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Authors: Tracey Bateman

BOOK: Distant Heart
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The morning of Fannie's wedding arrived dark and overcast, with the worrisome sound of thunder off in the distance.

Toni went about morning chores, boiling coffee, fixing one egg each for Katie, Kip, Fannie, and herself. Plus a stack of flapjacks—a treat she saved only for special occasions and this was special enough to warrant pulling out the jar of honey she and Fannie had been saving. She'd already told Blake and Sam in no uncertain terms that they would have to find their breakfast elsewhere today. Fannie had too much to attend to and couldn't be distracted on her wedding day.

The sky rumbled, as the thunder brought its threat even closer. Toni held her breath for a long second and then breathed out.

Everyone got a little jumpy when storms approached. It was understandable after a spring twister had slammed the wagon train, killing several folks including little Rebecca Kane. The loss of livestock and supplies had forced close to 150 travelers to turn back. An event that had lessened the
train's numbers from 400 to 250. Toni knew Sam and Blake weren't happy with the smaller train now that they were in a territory where Indians were more likely to become hostile rather than simply ornery. They'd come across some, mainly curious; a few thieves had stolen livestock that had wandered outside the circle; but for the most part, their encounters with the natives had resulted in occasional trade and minor annoyances. Until two days ago. Toni had a sinking feeling that that may have just been the beginning of hostility between the Cheyenne and their wagon train.

By the time Kip returned from his morning scouting expedition with Sam, Toni had breakfast ready. “Sam says to tell you we're in for a washing in a little while, so you best cover anything you don't want getting wet.”

Toni couldn't help the flutter in her stomach at the thought of a storm. “Did he say if it's going to be bad?”

“Didn't say.” Kip helped himself to the plate Toni held out.

“He probably would have if it was supposed to be bad, right?”

Gulping down a large bite, Kip gave a shrug. “I don't know.”

Toni expelled a huff. Why was she even asking a twelve-year-old boy for information? All he cared about was scouting with Blake, Sam, or Mr. Kelley, and stuffing himself with whatever she or Fannie set before him.

Stirring coming from behind distracted her from the clouds and she turned to find Fannie, followed by Katie, exiting the wagon. Fannie frowned. “Is it going to storm?”

“Sam said rain's definitely coming, but according to Kip, he didn't think it was going to be bad.”

Fannie nodded, but the frown remained firmly in place.

Toni slipped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Don't worry. Nothing is going to ruin your wedding day. I wouldn't hear of it.” She smiled at the bride. “And you know how firm I can be when I need to be.”

Toni could tell Fannie was doing her best to force a smile. To prove she wasn't a bit worried. But Toni saw right through the ruse. Fannie took the plate her friend held out. “I don't see how I'll ever be able to force down a bite.” Her gaze flickered to the west. Toni followed her gaze. She tensed as a streak of lightning brought a blast of thunder. Katie screamed and slid beneath the wagon.

Toni caught Fannie's trouble gaze just before her friend stooped down in front of the wagon. “Katie, honey. You come on out now. This storm isn't a twister. Sam says it's not even going to be that bad.”

Watching the scene in front of her, Toni couldn't help but remember that awful storm that had taken several lives among the travelers. Poor Katie. She and Becca Kane had been playing together when the twister invaded their quiet world of make believe. In a moment all too real, Katie had been forced to watch as the wind caught little Becca up and tossed her broken body yards away, her spirit already floating to heaven before she hit the ground. Katie was far from over the incident, and even the gentlest of sprinkles caused her anxiety. A storm—albeit mild—terrified her.

Kip set aside his empty plate and knelt on the ground,
dropping to his hands and knees beside the wagon. “Aw, Katie. This ain't nothin' but a little summer storm.”

Katie's terrified silence screamed into the saturated air. Fannie's voice trembled a little as she spoke. “Katie, don't you want to come out and climb into the wagon until the rain stops? You'll be more comfortable.”

Fannie moved as though she was going to crawl under the wagon with her little sister.

Toni touched her shoulder. “Don't get under there. You'll get dirty and there may not be opportunity for a bath before your wedding. I'll go.”

Without waiting for consent, Toni lay on her belly and slid under the wagon, joining Katie. “Sweetheart. I'm going to stay right here with you until the storm is over, okay?”

Toni slipped her arms securely around Katie's shaking body. “We'll be okay, Fannie. You and Kip should go inside and wait it out.”

Toni could sense the hesitation in her friend. After all, Fannie had been taking care of her sister and brother since their mother had died three years ago and had almost lost them forever when she had been kidnapped along with Toni. She'd been even more protective since then. “Truly, Fannie,” Toni said. “It'll be fine. I'm already here.”

“Are you sure?” Fannie asked. The thought that Fannie would even allow her to take care of Katie warmed Toni to her core. Toni nodded.

“Come on, Kip,” Fannie said.

Kip hung back, clearly distressed at the thought of leaving his twin sister.

Fannie tugged on his arm a little. “Toni's taking care of her.” The sky opened up and poured down on the group of travelers. Kip rose with a swift nod.

“I'll be just inside, Katie,” he called. “You ought to get inside the wagon.”

“It's okay, Kip.” Toni waved him away. “Go before you get soaked.”

“Should I Katie?”

The terrified child nodded and Kip slowly rose and walked away.

In the wet and mud, Toni held the trembling child until the rain let up, the storm passed over, and only a few puddles reminded the travelers there had ever been a storm in the first place. But no amount of coaxing from Kip or Fannie could convince Katie to crawl out from underneath the wagon, so Toni stayed, muddy, wet, and miserable, and waited out the soul-robbing fear that she knew the little girl was experiencing. She knew what it was like to curl up in a corner while the rain beat down and people walked by not caring about a young girl, violated and left on the street.

She wouldn't let Katie face this alone.

She had been a couple of years older than Katie was now when Micah Lyons breezed onto her father's farm, a drifter looking for work. By the time harvest ended, Toni's heart had been stolen, along with her innocence. Micah's promise of marriage ended abruptly with her news of pregnancy. He left under the cover of darkness and Toni never saw him again. With mounting fear of discovery, Toni took money from her mama's egg jar, boarded a train for St. Louis, and lost the
baby a week later. But she was too afraid, too ashamed to return home, and when Amelia had found her on the street, shivering, ill from the miscarriage and half-starved, Toni didn't think twice about accepting her charity. It was only after she recovered, fattened up, and got some color back in her cheeks that she realized there is no such thing as true charity, and so she went to work in Amelia's bordello. Had it truly been seven years ago? It seemed more like an eternity.

“Why are you crying, Miss Toni?”

Katie's words brought her from her reverie and she looked down at the beautiful blue eyes staring at her with concern.

“I didn't know I was,” she replied honestly.

“Did the storm scare you too?”

“No. I was just having a bad memory, that's all.” Toni smiled, and firmly pushed back any thoughts of her past. Anything before this moment didn't exist. And she was determined not to allow the pain of those memories again.

 

Toni's legs trembled a little as she stood with the other spectators within the confines of Fort Laramie, and watched as Blake and Fannie exchanged vows before God and the company of observers. Inside the fort's chapel, Fannie looked beautiful in the gown of deep green with just a touch of lace at the collar and around each wrist. She would have liked to have sewn some along the bottom of the gown as well, but there wasn't enough to go around, so she had to make do.

Fannie's hair was pinned loosely so that curls sprung around her heart-shaped face. She looked every bit the beautiful bride. The joy on her face when the preacher pro
nounced her Blake's wife was undeniable. Toni felt a sense of loss that Fannie would no longer share her wagon, but happiness for her friend was stronger than any selfish regret.

The strains of “Aura Lee” were just coming to an end by the time Sam screwed up the courage to get anywhere near Toni, let alone ask her for the honor of a dance.

He'd been watching her throughout the evening. Even though she was snubbed by more than a few women, she remained polite, quiet as she served slices of white cake and lemonade. Keeping her eye on Katie and Kip—no doubt for Miss Caldwell—Mrs. Tanner, rather, she seemed to have a lot on her mind. For one thing, she kept her fingers pressed to the scars on her face as much as possible. Didn't she know they were barely noticeable? Especially when one looked into beautiful, amber-colored eyes that squinted with every smile. Not that she did much of that these days.

Now, for the first time all evening, she was in front of the table and not behind. He could tell this song in particular meant something to her. The haunting melody lifted into the air at the end of a violin bow and she swayed to the music, unconsciously, if he had to guess. Somehow, there he was, standing in front of her, grinning like what he knew was a crazy fool. “Would you do me the honor, Miss Toni?”

She started and her eyes widened. “Oh, you don't have to.”

“It would be my honor.”

A slow smile tipped her lips. “Why not?”

“Truly?”

“Sam Two-Feathers, are you changing your mind? Don't tell me you're trifling with me.”

“No, ma'am.” He grinned and nestled his hand into the curve of her waist, taking her hand in his. His shoulder warmed in an instant at the touch of her palm. He led her around the dance floor in what must surely be a dream.

He closed his eyes and took in the scent of baking and smoked meat that clung to her, thinly disguised with a hint of lemon water. She smelled delicious. And he'd have liked nothing better than to bury his face in her hair and get the full effect. But he knew better.

A man's grunt interrupted their moment. Sam opened his eyes to find Mr. Kane sneering at the two of them, his wife Amanda looking more embarrassed than angry.

“Is there a problem, Kane?” he asked.

Mr. Kane didn't even bother to look at him. That alone made Sam bristle. But the man's next words nearly got him licked.

“If you like Indians so much, why not just go with the chief and leave the rest of us alone?”

Toni gasped and stood still in the middle of the dance floor. Her eyes filled with horror.

“Kane,” Sam warned. “Where'd you get the whisky?”

“I don't know what you're talkin' about, half-breed.”

“Yes, you do. And trust me, the fact that you're drunk is the only thing saving you from getting the thrashing you deserve after speaking to a lady that way.”

“Lady?” he spat. “Where'd you get the idea this whore was a lady?”

Before he could rear back and smash his fist into the drunken idiot's face, Toni had fled. Sam wanted to go after
her. But he knew he should take care of the staggering, big-mouthed oaf standing in front of him just begging for a fight.

“Sam, take him back to camp and see that he sleeps it off.” Blake's command couldn't have come at a worse time. But Sam knew the wagon master was right. Normally, they wouldn't allow anyone who had been drinking to return to camp until they sobered up, but with most of the women and young children remaining inside the walls of the fort until they pulled out, Kane's wagon seemed to be the best place for him. Besides, everyone knew the poor man had lost his daughter in that twister, and that knowledge somehow made it easier to forgive his transgressions. For now. But Sam wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to look the other way.

 

Toni bit her lip to keep from giving in to the tears clogging her throat as she started clearing dishes and left over refreshments from the table. “Why'd you let him get away with talking to you like that?”

She didn't even have to look up from the refreshment table to know the young woman from the night before had followed her. “Because not everything is worth fighting over.” Toni peered at the woman.

“Did you hear what he called you?”

Toni gave her a steady look. “Yes.”

For the first time, the woman's demeanor cracked as she obviously caught Toni's meaning. Her face glowed and she cleared her throat. “I-um-well—I see. You're a…”


Was
.” Toni raised her chin, surprised at the pride welling inside of her. She truly wasn't that and she wouldn't be called it again. Maybe some things were worth fighting over, after all. “Not anymore.”

The young woman seemed relieved. She nodded.

Toni scraped a dish of half-eaten cake into the refuse pile. “What did you say your name is?”

“I didn't, but it's Ginger.” She wiped her palm against dirty buckskin trousers and offered her hand.

“Pleased to meet you, Ginger. I'm Toni.”

“Want some help cleaning up this mess?”

“Sure. If you wouldn't mind.” Toni nearly dissolved into tears at the kindness. Even if it was from a rough young woman with heaven knew what sort of background.

But who was Toni to look down on anyone for any reason? And what was wrong with Ginger dressing in buckskins and wearing a gun belt? Did that make her less a person? Did it make her less a woman? Did it mean she wasn't worthy of a man's love or a kind word?

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