Lacy: (Sweet Historical Western Romance) (Pendleton Petticoats Book 5) Page 2
Watchful of the clouds overhead heavy with snow, she rushed down a side street to the alley where she’d tied her horse, Star. She unrolled a piece of leather fastened behind her saddle and shook out a long buckskin coat lined with fur. Quickly, she pulled the warm covering over her head and tugged it into place over her skirt and blouse. Unpinning her hair, she stowed the pins in a small leather pouch she wore around her neck. She braided her hair and fastened the end with a thin strip of leather. The shawl she’d worn draped around her shoulders went over her head and wrapped around her neck. She lifted the hood on her coat and tugged it down until it blocked the wind from most of her face.
The long wool skirt she wore hid her leather leggings and moccasins as she’d walked around town. The traditional garb provided warmth and comfort as she swung into the saddle and guided Star out of the alley and onto the street. When she rode past the bank, she glanced at the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Grant Hill. Between the lettering on the glass and the decorative iron bars, it was impossible to see inside.
Even if she didn’t catch a departing glance of the banker, his scent along with the vision of his smile would stay with her on the wintry ride home.
Chapter Two
“I said no and I mean it, Lacy. I forbid it. You will not take a job in town. Absolutely not!” Joe Williams paced around the small kitchen in their cabin before resuming his seat at the table. “We’ve been over this before. Why must you continue to defy me?”
“I’m not trying to defy you, Father, but we could use the money. I’m capable of doing the work. Why not let me at least try?” Lacy stared at her father, holding onto her temper with both hands. If her father brought up Phillip Redhawk again, she wasn’t sure she could keep it from erupting.
“Hey, Pops, why not let her give it a go?” Walker, Lacy’s cheeky seventeen-year-old brother, winked at her as he leaned back in his chair. “It’s better than her sitting around here all day thinking up things for me to do.”
Joe slammed his fist down on the table. The dishes clattered and the sound awakened Ruth’s two-month-old baby with a start.
Ruth scurried into the bedroom, cooing soothingly to the infant. Her husband, Tom, wisely refrained from offering his opinion on the topic of Lacy’s employment. Instead, he shrugged into his coat. “I need your help feeding the horses, Walker. Let’s go.”
Walker started to protest, but one look at his father sent him rushing out the door with his brother-in-law.
Lacy set down her two-year-old niece and watched her toddle over to where the little girl’s brother played with their old dog near the stove. Mary flopped down and snuggled into the animal’s fur with a contented sigh.
“Father, you must understand that I…”
“I don’t have to understand anything.” Joe stood so fast, he knocked over his chair. “Why can’t you be more like your sister? Like a normal girl, she married the man I chose for her. She keeps a home and provides him with children.” He glared at his willful daughter. “I’ve put up with your nonsense long enough. Tomorrow, you will accept Phillip’s request for marriage and settle down.”
Lacy jumped to her feet and glowered at her father. “I won’t marry Phillip, Father. He still lives in a tipi and clings to the old ways with nearly as much tenacity as you. Besides, I don’t love him and I never will.”
“Love?” Joe dismissively sliced his hand through the air. “Love is a silly notion perpetuated by those ridiculous whites you call friends.”
“That’s not true and you know it. You and mother loved each other. Fiercely.”
“Do not speak of your mother!” Joe’s voice thundered through the cabin, making the children cower and the dog whine.
“If you hadn’t loved her, you wouldn’t still mourn her. She’s been gone four years, Father. Four years.” Lacy refused to let her father intimidate her as she returned his scowl.
“You know nothing of what I felt and still feel for your mother. It’s none of your concern. You will marry Phillip and you will learn to be obedient to the men in charge of you. I don’t want to hear another word about you working in town. Is that clear?” Joe grabbed Lacy’s arm and gave it a shake for emphasis.
She wrenched it out of his grasp and stared at him with a stony expression. “Perfectly.”
Before Joe could further express his opinions, the door banged open. Tom and Walker lumbered inside, covered in snow. They both carried arms full of wood and dumped it into a box near the stove.
“It’s really starting to snow out there. We strung a rope to the barn, but it looks like we’re in for a bad storm,” Walker said. He shook off his coat and brushed the snow from his cropped hair.
“Storm?” Lacy opened the door and stared into the swirling snowflakes visible through the dark cloak of evening.
Silently groaning, she closed the door, wondering how she’d get to work in the morning in the blizzard. She dare not miss showing up on the first day or she’d be out of a job.
Regardless of what her father said, she would take the job. Past her twenty-third year, she was no longer a child and capable of making her own decisions.
When Father first brought up the idea of marriage to Phillip, her mother had laughed and told him Lacy would find her own husband all in good time.
It was a year after her mother’s death before her father again brought up the subject of her marrying Phillip. She’d managed to evade his plans for her to wed, but she didn’t know how much longer she could put him off.
Determined to do what was right, in her opinion, Lacy picked up Mary and readied the child for bed.
Their two-bedroom cabin was cramped with so many people under one roof. Her father took one bedroom while Ruth and Tom shared the other with the two babies. Their son, Daniel, and Walker slept in a lean-to off the kitchen they’d added last summer. Lacy made her bed on a pallet by the stove. Throughout the night, she arose to stoke the fire and keep the cabin warm.
An hour before any of her family would rise, Lacy dressed in her warmest clothes. She rolled a dress and petticoat into a bundle then wrapped it with leather to keep dry. After locating a scrap of paper, she wrote a note, letting her family know she went to town, would be there all day, and possibly spend the night if the snow continued. Hurriedly gathering dried beef and a hard biscuit, she wrapped them in a handkerchief and shoved it into a pouch at her waist then tugged on her coat.
Silently, she opened the door. Snow continued to fall, although it had slowed considerably.
Lacy found the rope Walker had tied to the cabin and grasped it in her hand, following it to the barn.
Inside, she lit a lantern and whistled softly. Star whinnied and moved toward her. The mare received a thorough scratching on her neck before a saddle dropped onto her back. Lacy poured a portion of feed into a burlap sack and tied it to the saddle, along with her bundle of clothes.
After a final check to make sure she had everything she needed, Lacy blew out the light, led Star outside then closed the barn door.
“Come on, girl. We need to ride into town.” Star tossed her head as Lacy mounted and started toward the road.
Even in the darkness, with snowflakes swirling around them, Lacy could find her way to Pendleton. Her grandmother lived near the edge of the reservation and it was simple to get to town from her house. Over the years, Lacy had ridden to Rebecca’s house so many times she could make her way there with her eyes closed.
Although some might find the stillness eerie, Lacy enjoyed the quiet during her journey. It gave her time to think and hope, pray and dream.
The dreams that filled her mind continued turning to the banker she’d met yesterday. She recalled the white teeth that filled his smile, the freckles that dotted his slightly crooked yet somewhat aristocratic nose, the alluring curve of his lips.
It was foolhardy to entertain any thoughts of the handsome man, but Lacy couldn’t seem to help herself.
Under normal circumstances, it took her an hour to ride into t
own. In the snow, she rode for twice that long.
By the time she reached the far edges of Pendleton, her teeth chattered and she no longer had feeling in her toes. She rode down the quiet streets, noticing no one seemed to be anxious to venture out on such a cold, snowy day.
She directed Star down the street to the Pendleton Telephone and Telegraph Company. After reining the horse to a stop in front of the office, Lacy slid off her back and crumpled to the ground on numb legs. Pinpricks pierced through her and she struggled to gain her feet and clear her suddenly clouded mind.
Before she could blink, strong arms lifted her up and cradled her against a firm chest.
Half-frozen and in no condition to fight or protest, Lacy held still, gathering her wits and her strength. If the man carrying her meant her harm, he’d find she wasn’t easy to subdue. She just needed to regain the ability to run before she made her move.
Lulled by the rumbling sound of the man’s voice as it reverberated in his chest, her eyes closed and she drifted off.
Grant listened to the wind howl outside the windows. Toasty and comfortable in his big bed, he briefly considered rolling over and going back to sleep.
Instead, he tossed aside the covers and hurried to dress. He doubted they’d have any customers at the bank on a day like today, but he wanted to get there early and make sure the bank was warm for anyone who visited.
Bundling up in his warmest clothes, he stepped outside and followed the rope he’d tied from the back porch out to the barn. He fed his horses and broke the ice in their water pails.
Inside the warmth of his house, he ventured to the basement and shoveled coal into the furnace then hurried back to the kitchen where he prepared a simple breakfast.
Although he probably should have changed into one of his expensive tailored suits, Grant chose to face the day in the wool shirt and canvas pants he’d worn out to chore. Not only were they considerably warmer than his suits, they also wouldn’t be ruined as he shoveled snow away from the bank’s door and off the sidewalks downtown.
Grant finished his cup of hot coffee, rinsed his dishes, and then headed off to the bank. Maybe Marvin Tooley wasn’t as crazy as everyone accredited him. Some of the drifts of snow were past his knees as he worked his way toward the heart of town where the bank was located. He would never have guessed so much snow would fall overnight.
Downtown, with the buildings set close together, the drifts weren’t as bad and he didn’t have to struggle to take each step. He’d just turned the corner near the bank when he watched a snow-shrouded figure slide off a ghostly-looking horse and crumple to the ground.
As he neared the prone figure, he couldn’t make out any details. The fringed buckskin coat covering the person appeared to be something one of the Indians from the reservation would wear. The size of the person indicated the rider was probably a woman.
Grant waited a moment for her to stand. When she remained motionless in the snow, he picked her up and carried her across the street to the bank. Since he hadn’t yet stoked the stove, the bank wouldn’t be much warmer than the outdoors.
Quickly changing direction, Grant hurried to the Campanelli’s home, located just a few blocks away. As he walked, he kept up a running conversation about the snow, where he was going, and asking if the woman remembered what brought her into town. With a hood covering her face, Grant most likely wouldn’t have heard her even if she had responded.
He glanced over his shoulder, surprised to see the horse the woman had ridden followed behind him like a well-trained pup.
Lights glowed in several of Tony and Ilsa’s windows as he hurried up the walk. He shifted the bundle in his arms and pounded on the door. Footsteps echoed from the hallway and the door soon swung inward.
Grant smiled at Tony as he motioned him inside.
“What in the world are you doing out on a morning like this, Grant? Don’t you know this is the kind of day to cozy up by the fire?” Tony grinned then glanced out the door. “Is that a horse on my front lawn?”
“Yes, it is.” Grant stepped into the entry foyer and adjusted his hold on the woman. “I wanted to get the bank warmed up before we open this morning and went early. This woman was across the street in the snow with her horse. She hasn’t said anything, but she didn’t offer any protest when I picked her up. You’re the closest place that came to mind for her to get warm. If you’d rather, I can take her to my house.”
“No, this is fine, Grant. Let’s take off that hood and see who we have here.” Tony pushed away the snow-covered hood and untied the scarf knotted under the woman’s chin. He stepped back and smiled. “It’s Lacy Williams. Her grandmother is Rebecca.”
Numbly, Grant nodded his head. The girl he cradled so tenderly to his chest was none other than the beautiful woman who’d remained in his thoughts since encountering her the previous afternoon. “I met Miss Williams yesterday, in front of the telephone office.”
“Wonder what she was doing there?” Tony motioned for Grant to follow him into the parlor where a fire crackled with welcome warmth in the fireplace.
Grant carried Lacy to the chair Tony slid in front of the fire and carefully set her on the seat.
Tony tossed another log on the fire. “See if you can get that coat off while I find Ilsa then take her horse to the barn.” He disappeared, leaving Grant alone with the nearly frozen girl.
Surely, she hadn’t ridden into town from the reservation in the snow. If she had, the woman was either crazy or desperate — or a little of both.
Grant looked for buttons on the front of her coat but couldn’t locate any. Uncertain how to proceed, he lifted one of Lacy’s feet to remove her shoes and encountered moccasins topped with ornately beaded leather leggings. With no idea what to do to remove them, he instead propped her feet on a small stool toward the fire. Gently lifting her icy fingers, he removed her gloves and rubbed her hands, hoping to restore some warmth.
“Tony said instead of making snow angels, you’re finding them this morning,” Ilsa teased as she breezed into the room. Every hair on her blond head was meticulously coiffed. An expensive gown, no doubt one of her own creations, swathed her petite form in a splash of bright raspberry color.
Politely, Grant tipped his head to her. “Good morning, Ilsa. I’m sorry for making a mess with the melting snow, but I thought it best to bring her somewhere she would get warm quickly.”
Ilsa waved a hand his direction. “Don’t give it a thought, Grant. I’m just curious what brought Lacy into town this morning. I hope there isn’t some emergency and that Rebecca is well.”
“She seemed hale and hearty when I saw her the day before yesterday,” Tony said, returning from taking Lacy’s horse to his barn. He strode over to the chair and lifted one of Lacy’s arms. Grant took the other and the two of them stood her up while Ilsa worked the heavy coat up and over the girl’s head.
She began to stir as Ilsa wrapped a thick blanket around her before the two men returned her to the chair.
“Lacy? Lacy, can you hear me? It’s Ilsa Campanelli.” Ilsa tapped Lacy’s cheeks with her fingers.
Lacy’s eyelashes fluttered, making Grant’s heart skip a beat. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked around, trying to gain her bearings.
“Oh! Where am I… how did I get…” Confused, she glanced from Tony to Ilsa then noticed Grant. She sucked in a gulp of air at the sight of him and started to get up, but Ilsa pushed her back into the chair.
“Grant found you near the bank. Is there a problem at home?” Tony smiled at her encouragingly but his golden eyes held questions. “Is there something we can help you with?”
“No, nothing like that.” Lacy straightened in the chair. Needles of pain pricked her skin as she began to warm. It had been unwise to ride to town in such cold weather, but she wouldn’t lose the job. If only she could get warm, perhaps Ilsa would let her change then she could make it to work on time. “I was hired to work at the telephone office and today’s my first day. I didn’t want
to be late.”
Tony inquisitively lifted an eyebrow. “Does your father know you’re here?” Joe Williams clung to a past way of life, one that most certainly did not include his daughter working in town. It was one thing for Lacy to do odd jobs for ranch wives or at the school and church on the reservation. The matter of her holding down a regular job in town would no doubt cause her father concern.
“He will when he finds the note I left him.” Lacy looked everywhere but at the three people standing in front of her chair with various degrees of disapproval written on their faces.
Ilsa offered Tony a private look Grant was unable to interpret then bustled out of the room. She returned a short time later with a tray laden with a steaming pot of tea, cups, and a plate of muffins.
“Aundy baked the muffins yesterday, so I promise they’re edible.” Ilsa poured four cups of tea and handed one to Lacy. Although Ilsa created fashions that were in demand around the world, she struggled with cooking. Even the basics seemed beyond her ability most days.
Grant helped himself to a muffin, savoring the treat before washing it down with a bracing cup of tea while keeping an eye on Lacy.
Embarrassed by the attention, she ducked her head and sipped her tea. Her teeth threatened to chatter and she fought down shivers as heat penetrated her chilled body. The teacup rattled against the saucer she held in her hand. She hurried to set them on a side table and clasped her hands together as they trembled.
Grant took them in his again and continued to rub warmth into her hands even when Lacy tried to pull them away. Ilsa dropped to the floor and began massaging her moccasin-clad feet.
Frustrated yet grateful, Lacy focused her gaze on her lap. She hadn’t meant to impose on her friends. Most certainly, she never intended for Grant to carry her to their house.
Suddenly remembering her horse, Lacy started to rise to her feet. “Where’s Star?”