After the Storm: Clean Historical Western Cowboy Romance Novel (Dawson Chronicles Book 2) (3 page)

BOOK: After the Storm: Clean Historical Western Cowboy Romance Novel (Dawson Chronicles Book 2)
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              Hailey strode away from them without saying anything and Kyle followed her.  “Is that really how you wanna leave things between us, Hailey?  I might die out here.  I sure as heck don’t want us to be angry with each other the last time we see each other.”

              She turned around abruptly.  “Then you shouldn’t have turned me in!”

              “I had to!”

              “Fine!  Go back to fighting!” she said.  “Be careful.”  She hugged him.  “I don’t want anything to happen to you, but I’m mad as hell at you.  You’ll just have to accept that.  May the Great Spirit keep you safe.”

              He hugged her back briefly.  “You be careful, too.  And try to behave, ok?”

              She pulled back from him.  “I’ll behave as I want to.  That’s the best I can do.”

              He laughed and shook his head before running off.

              Asherman came over to her.  “You do realize you’re in a lot of trouble for impersonating a soldier, don’t you?”

              Hailey smiled at him.  “I don’t care; I’m sure the press will love my story.  How a girl slipped into battle?  They’ll be really interested in that.”

              Asherman’s blue eyes narrowed.  “Are you threatening an army officer?”

              “No.  I’m just suggesting that you send me back to the Red Cross without punishment and I won’t tell anyone how I duped several officers and a lot of other men.  I also won’t tell them that I killed twenty-one Germans while I was a soldier for the past two weeks,” she said.  “And I certainly won’t tell them how I dragged one of our soldiers to safety after he was wounded.”

              Asherman was shocked.  “You’re making that up.”

              “No, I’m not.  I’m not gonna stand here trying to convince you, though.  The Lakota don’t lie.  We’re taught to always tell the truth.”

              “Funny.  You don’t look Indian.”

              “I’m half Lakota.” Hailey didn’t feel like giving more explanation than that.  “Well, I’m sure you have more important things to do than talk to me.  Like telling our boys what you want them to do on this next offensive.”

              Asherman was sorely aggravated by her belligerent attitude, but he was also curious about her.  “So you really fought for two weeks and killed twenty-one Germans?”

              “I don’t know why you should be so surprised that a woman can do that.  The Russians have a lot of women fighting for them.  If they can do it, so can I,” Hailey said.  “Look, am I going back or not?”

              Asherman said, “Just sit over there for now.  I’ll get Corporal Gaines to take you to the rear.”

              Hailey went over to where he’d indicated and sat down on the ground cross-legged.  Asherman looked at her for a few moments before going to talk to his corporal. 

 

              Kyle smiled as he remembered Hailey telling him and Art about what had happened after he’d left her with Asherman.  The woman was a firecracker and TNT combined.  He wasn’t the only one thinking about the strong-willed Hailey; his friend, Art Perrone, one of the few people who knew about Hailey’s short career as a soldier, stood at the ship’s railing, his mind drifting into the recent past.

 

December 20, 1918,

 

After receiving a stern reprimand from her superior, Hailey had been reassigned as an ambulance driver.  Hailey drove wounded soldiers back from the front, humming as she pulled in to the unloading zone and cut the engine.  It had finally sunk in to many that the fighting was really over after so many months at war. 

              She helped transfer patients to the hospital, joking with the five men, who thankfully weren’t severely wounded.  Only one of them had a gunshot wound to the leg.  The others had broken bones. 

              One of them, a spunky nineteen-year-old, asked, “So where are you from, beautiful?”

              “You can call me Dwyer and I’m from Montana,” she said, grinning.

              “Ok, Dwyer, I’m from California, but I could be persuaded to move to Montana.” His blue eyes twinkled as he hobbled along on a pair of makeshift crutches.

              She laughed.  “Wow.  Willing to move to see a redheaded Indian, huh?”

              “Indian?” he asked.  “You ain’t no Indian.”

              “I sure am.  Half Lakota,” she said.  “Still want to move to Montana?”

              Revealing her lineage was usually an effective way to ward off unwanted advances because of the prejudice that existed towards Indians, even the ones serving in the war.

              The young man wasn’t sure what to say.

              Hailey patted him on the shoulder.  “That’s ok, soldier.  Have a nice life.  Glad you made it.”

              Smiling to herself, she went back to her ambulance to clean the back just in case she got sent out again.

              “Mmm mmm.  There’s that fierce warrior woman,” said a male voice.

              Turning around, she saw Art coming towards her.  She couldn’t hold back a grin.  “Hey!  You made it!  Glad to see you.  Are you hurt?”

              “Shot in the foot,” he said, smiling as he limped.  “No, I didn’t shoot myself, either.  It’ll be better before I’m married.  So I see they didn’t send you home or throw you in the hoosegow.”

              “Nah.  I had ‘em by the balls since I threatened to tell every newspaper about my story.  Besides, they needed me.  I convinced them to let me drive ambulance in exchange for my silence.”

              “That’s good.  Am I keepin’ you?” he asked.

              “Nope.  I can talk while I clean,” she said, gathering up her supplies.  “Where’s your partner in crime?”

              “Your cousin?  Around here somewhere.  He came with me to get stitched up from some shrapnel.”  Seeing the instant concern on her face, he said, “He’s ok.  They got it out and it didn’t hit anything vital.  It was mainly on his back.  He’ll have some scars, but that’ll give him something to talk about.”

              Hailey laughed.  “He doesn’t need any help in that department.”

              “No, he doesn’t,” Art agreed.  “So when you’re done here, can a soldier buy you a cup of coffee?”

              She smiled.  “Why, Art, are you asking me on a date?”

              His dark eyes gleamed with amusement.  “And what if I was?”

              “I don’t know.  They say war romances don’t work out,” she joked, climbing up into the back of the ambulance to start wiping it out. 

              He chuckled as he moved closer so they could still talk.  “Who said anything about romance?  I’m just talking about a cup of coffee.”

              “Well, first it’s a cup of coffee and the next thing you know, you’re getting married.”

              Art laughed.  “Boy, you sure are in a hurry, girl.”

              “Actually, marriage isn’t on my dance card,” Hailey said, ringing out her rag.  “So where’s home for you?”

              “Well, see, there’s this little place in Montana called Dawson and that’s where I aim to go.  Your bonehead cousin is dragging me home with him.  Says he has a job for me.”

              “No kidding?  Sounds like something he’d do.”

              “I did pull his bacon out of the fire, so he owes me,” Art said.  “Or so he says.  I didn’t bother correctin’ him.  He’s been after me about it, but I didn’t take him seriously at first.  After the last letter I got from Mama, I made sure he meant it.  Things in Louisiana aren’t any good right now—not for my kind, anyhow.  He said Dawson’s a little different that way, so I thought why not give it a try.  Can’t be any worse than home.”

              “Just prepare yourself for his family.  They’re great folks and very respected, but they’re rambunctious and they argue a lot, which is funny most of the time.”

              “That’s what he said.  So how about that cup of coffee?” Art asked.

              “I thought I talked you out of that?” she teased.

              “No, ma’am.  You tried to talk me out of it, but I don’t give up easy.”

              “I do like that in a man.  Ok.  One cup of coffee after I see Kyle,” she said.

              He smiled.  “I’ll wait and take you to him.  He’ll be happy to see you.”

 

The Present

 

              Art chuckled to himself as he remembered how the three of them had celebrated Christmas together along with some of the other soldiers and a few of the nurses.  He’d noticed that Hailey hadn’t been very chummy with the nurses and had remembered her remark about how silly she found some of them to be. 

              However, she’d fit in well with the soldiers, drinking, playing cards, and telling some raunchy jokes.  The fellas had been enthralled by Hailey, who was beautiful despite her short, reddish hair.  Art felt the stirrings of desire as he thought about her delicate ears and full, sensual mouth and how soft it had been when he’d kissed her at midnight on New Year’s Eve at the impromptu dance at the hospital.

              It had just been a friendly kiss and he wasn’t the only man Hailey had kissed that night.  They had been quick pecks of celebration, but he’d noticed the way some of the men had looked at her and he hadn’t been able to blame them.  After all, hadn’t he noticed her beauty?  The jealousy he’d seen on some of the nurses and nurses’ aides’ faces had been funny, too.  Hailey didn’t mind ruffling feathers no matter whose feathers they were.

              A week later, he’d gotten to see her fighting skills when she’d taken down a solider who’d dared to put his hands on her rear end.  By the time she’d been done with him, he’d lain on the ground, groaning in pain.

              She’d looked around at the crowd gathered around.  “Let that be a lesson to anyone else who wants to try getting fresh like that.”  Her gray eyes had flashed fire as she’d left the area and Art swore he’d lost his heart to her right then.

              Kyle appeared at his side, snapping his mind back to the present.

              “Some of the fellas are putting together a card game.  You want in?” Kyle asked.

              It would be a good way to pass the time, Art mused.  He was as anxious as the rest of the men to get back to America.  “Sure.  Why not?”

              He followed Kyle below decks, but his mind was still on the Lakota bravette with the auburn hair.

 

Chapter Three

 

Renee went to Elliot’s after her lunch with Tim to pick up her material and a few things for supper.  She hummed as she put this and that in her basket.

              “Hello, Renee.”

              Renee stopped, turning around at the deep, male voice behind her.  She almost dropped her basket when she recognized Brody Benson.  “H-hello,” she stammered.

              “How are you?” he asked.

              “Fine and you?”

              “Good, thanks.  You have a lot of stuff there.  Do you need help carrying it?”

              “That would be great.  Thank you so much,” she said, handing him some of the material. 

              “What are you doing with all of this material?” he asked.

              She told him about her project for the hospital patients.

              “That’s really nice of you,” he said.  “Not a lot of people would think of doing something like that.”

              “Well, I hope someone might do something like that for me if I were sick,” she said.  She heard Tim’s advice in her mind and stopped walking down the aisle.  “Brody, are you interested in me?  It seems as though you are, but you never ask me out.  Am I imagining things?”

              Brody blushed slightly and his blue eyes left hers for a moment.  “No, you’re not imagining things.  I am interested, but … I don’t quite know how to say this.”

              Renee smiled.  “Just say it.  I’m hard to offend, Brody.  Go ahead.”

              “Ok.  Your pa said that you weren’t interested in dating and that he wouldn’t tolerate any fooling around where you were concerned,” Brody said.

              A consummate actress, Renee hid her fury at her father behind a smile.  “Oh, Pa is always kidding around.  Don’t pay any attention to what he said.  I’m certainly interested, and I don’t need his permission to see anyone.”

              Brody shifted his feet nervously.  “No, he was dead serious.  I’m sorry, Renee, but I’m friends with him, and I don’t want any friction at work when he comes to perform.”

              He was one of the bouncers at the Watering Hole and Switch put on a show there a couple of nights a week. 

              “I see,” Renee said, smiling tightly.  “Well, it’s nice that you respect his friendship.  I’ll take those now.” 

              “I’ll carry them for you.”

              “That’s all right.  I’m fine,” she responded.

              Reluctantly, Brody handed the material to her.  “I’m sorry, Renee.”

              “That’s ok, but it’s your loss,” she said, giving him a haughty look before sashaying away.

              Brody looked heavenward and let out a sigh of frustration before continuing his shopping.

 

*****

 

              Renee fumed at her father as she walked towards home.  She remembered that Tim and Randy were coming to supper and thought she’d better tell them not to since there was going to be a feud when she took Switch to task for his meddling.  She turned at the corner and headed for the
Dawson Dialogue
, the town newspaper. 

              She could use the telephone there to call the Dwyer residence, one of the seven places around town that had phone service.  Entering the office, she saw Chief Black Fox sitting at the telegraph machine taking down a telegram.  He always took a shift on Wednesdays.  She smiled at him when he looked up but didn’t disturb him so that he didn’t mess up the message.

              It was amusing to see an Indian chief working a telegraph machine, but he was good at it and he liked seeing what was going on with the military forts close by and the sillier messages people sent to each other. 

              Renee set her things down on an empty table that was used for putting the newspapers together and picked up the telephone receiver.  She kept ringing the appropriate extension until the Dwyers’ head butler, Randall, answered.

              “Hello, Dwyer residence,” he said in his cultured British accent.

              “Hello, Randall.  This is Renee Keller.  How are you?”

              “I’m well, thank you.  And yourself?”

              She forced a note of cheerfulness into her voice.  “I’m just fine.  I was wondering if Timmy is home.”

              “Yes, Master Tim is in the parlor.  I’ll fetch him for you.  One moment.”

              “Thank you, Randall.”

              The line was silent for several moments before Tim said, “Hi, Renee.  What’s going on?”

              “I’m calling to tell you that it’s not a good night for you and Randy to come to dinner.  But will you still pick me up at seven like we planned?” she asked.

              “Yeah, sure.  Is everything ok?”

              Renee blinked back tears.  “Not really.  It’s going to be unpleasant at home this evening, I’m afraid, and I don’t want you boys to get caught in the middle of it.”

              “Oh.  I’m sorry to hear that.  Is there anything I can do?”

              “No, but thank you,” she said.  “I have to go now, but I’ll see you tonight.  Be prepared to buy me a couple of drinks, money bags.”

              His husky laugh in her ear had a comforting effect on her.  “You got it.  I’ll take good care of you.”

              “I know you will.  Goodbye, Timmy.”

              “See ya.”

              Renee hung up and saw Black Fox looking at her, his dark eyes filled with questions.  “
Han
, Grandfather,” she said, kissing his cheek.

              He smiled.  “
Hau
, granddaughter.  What is wrong?”

              “Nothing much.  I’m going to kill my father, that’s all,” she said.

              His eyebrows rose.  He wasn’t used to hearing people say that about Switch, who was sweet-natured and rarely had a bad word to say about anyone.  “What did he do to make you so angry?”

              “He’s been interfering in my personal business.  That’s all I’ll say for now, but I’m sure you’ll hear all about it,” she said.

              “Be careful what you say, Renee,” Black Fox said.  “Words said in anger cannot be taken back.”

              “I’ll try to remember that,” she said, hugging the man who’d become a surrogate grandfather to her.

              He chuckled.  “I remember holding you as a baby.  You were very cute.”

              “Was I?”

              “Yes.  You had such thick hair and it stood up like you were frightened,” he said.

              She laughed.  “I’m glad it doesn’t look like that now.”

              “No, it does not.  You have become a very beautiful woman.”

              “Thank you, Grandfather.  Well, I’m heading home.  Have fun with your telegrams,” she said, gathering up her packages again and leaving.

 

*****

 

              Switch whistled as he entered his home and hung up his coat and scarf in the foyer late that afternoon.  Going into the parlor, he called out, “Anyone home?”

              He heard someone on the stairs and went to the bottom.  “Hello, daughter,” he said, smiling.  “How was your day off?”

              “I had a very nice day.  I made some brownies this morning and had lunch with Timmy,” she said, reaching the foyer.  “I went to Elliot’s to get some material to make pillowcases with.  I ran into Brody Benson and he told me something very peculiar.”

              He followed her into the kitchen, where she started peeling potatoes.  “What did he tell you?”

              “Well, he was somehow under the impression that I wasn’t interested in seeing anyone.  I don’t know where he would get such a silly idea,” she said.

             
Uh-oh
, Switch thought.  “I might have mentioned something like that to him.  You haven’t been out with anyone but Sawyer and that was just as friends.  I thought maybe you’d gotten soured on men—”

              “Stop lying!” she pounded the counter, making him jump.  “He said that you basically warned him away.  Why would you do that?  It’s none of your business!”

              Switch dropped all pretenses.  “Renee, it was for your own good.  You’re a very beautiful young woman and I see the way men look at you.  You’re my little girl and I’m not going to let anyone take advantage of you.”

              “Take advantage of me?  Do I seem like the kind of girl who gets taken advantage of?” she asked.

              An odd look flitted across his face.  “Not exactly.”

              “What does that mean?”

              His dark eyes sparked with irritation, a rare emotion for him, but he kept his words gentle.  “Renee, I know that you, um, uh,
enjoy
men.”

              Deep embarrassment froze her in place and her hand clenched around the paring knife handle.

              “I’m sorry, honey.  I’m just trying to protect you,” Switch said.  “I know you’re mad at me and that’s ok, but please try to understand.  I’m your father, and fathers protect their kids.”

              Renee laid the knife down on counter and wiped her hands on a towel.  “I know you mean well, but have you done the same thing with Skip?”

              “Well, no, but he’s so shy around girls—”

              “But if he wasn’t?  If he
enjoyed
girls, would you go around warning them away from him?” she asked.

              “It’s different for girls, Renee,” he said.

              “Well, not for this girl,” she said, walking out of the kitchen.

              “Where are you going?” 

              She mounted the stairs to the second story, Switch following her.

              “I’m going to pack.”

              “Pack?  Where are you going?” Switch asked, alarmed.

              “I’m going to find my own place so that no one meddles in my business anymore,” she said.

              Switch put a hand on her arm.  “You can’t move out.  Renee, don’t do anything rash, honey.”

              She whirled around to face him when she reached the top of the stairs.  “I can’t I move out?  Why?  I make my own money, and I’m twenty now.  If I were a man you wouldn’t be telling me that.  You didn’t say that to Jethro when he moved to New York a few years ago.  I never thought you were sexist, Pa, but I see that I was wrong about that.”

              “It’s not like that,” he said.  “Don’t leave.  Where are you going to go?”

              “I’ll stay at the hotel until I find a place.  I’m sure I can find a little apartment or something,” she said.  “Maybe move in with another woman who’s in the same predicament I am.”

              “You call your father trying to protect you a predicament?  You’re lucky to have a father who gives a damn about you because mine sure didn’t.  You can be mad at me all you want, but what I did, I did out of love for you, not because I’m sexist,” Switch said fervently. 

              Renee remembered her grandfather’s words and reined in her anger as best she could.  “I understand, but although your intentions are loving, they’re still sexist.  It’s time for me to make my own way now and my own decisions.  I love you, Pa, but I’ve made up my mind.”

              Switch fought back tears.  “I can’t tie you up or force you to stay, but please don’t leave until you find a place.  At least let your ma and me help you get set up somewhere.  Please?”

              Renee, like her brothers, adored her parents and her father’s plea didn’t fall on deaf ears.  “Ok, Pa.  Thank you.”

              “So, you don’t have to pack tonight then,” he said.

              “No, but I do have to get ready to go out with Timmy and Randy,” she said.  “We’re going over to the Howler in Wolf Point.  They want to play pool.”

              Switch didn’t like her going to the rowdy saloon, but he knew that Tim and Randy would take good care of her.  “Ok.”

              “They’ll be here at seven.”  She kissed his cheek and went to her room, shutting the door behind her.

              Switch went back down the stairs slowly in a state of shock.  Putting his scarf and coat back on, he headed out into the cold winter wind.

 

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