Teton Splendor (6 page)

“I didn’t apologize to him.” She barely whispered the words. The hurt in her voice was unmistakable. Joseph fought the urge to reach his hand out and touch her arm. Abruptly, she raised her chin and her back straightened again. She looked directly at him, her brown eyes reaching out to him.

“Tell me about my parents. My real parents.”

Joseph concealed his astonishment at her words. She’d successfully surprised him a third time in less than a few minutes. He drew his eyebrows together.

“Why the change of heart?” he asked. There had to be a reason that she suddenly wanted to know about her family. He reached for her arm and pulled her to the side when a man rushed past them. He tipped his bowler hat in thanks and kept going. Sophie’s arm tensed beneath his touch, and he loosened his grip. The silk fabric of her dress did little to curb the sudden jolt of adrenaline that raced through him, and he dropped his hand. The subtle floral fragrance he’d come to associate with her filled his senses. A tingling sensation remained in his fingers, and he clenched his hand to dispel the feeling.

“I told you. I’m sorry for the way I acted this afternoon. Perhaps I’m curious.” She spoke slowly, obviously choosing her words carefully, and averted her eyes. If only he could decipher what she wasn’t saying. For now, he’d play along.

“I have faint memories of your ma and pa, and most of what I know are things my father told me.”

“You knew my parents?” she asked, and raised her head. “When was I taken from them?”

Joseph hesitated. “Sophie, your parents were murdered by a man who wanted revenge. Your pa was a French fur trapper named Laurent Berard. Your mother’s name was Whispering Waters. She was the daughter of a Bannock chief.” He paused to let his words sink in. She didn’t respond, so he continued. “Your pa asked Yan . . . your father to take you to safety so Sabin couldn’t kill you, too. Raising you as his own daughter and giving you his name was his way of keeping his promise to Laurent.”

Joseph gauged her for a reaction. Tears shimmered in her eyes. Real tears, not the ones a woman turned on and off at will. She pulled a lace handkerchief from the satchel hanging from her wrist, and dabbed at her eyes. She sniffled, then raised her chin.

“I would like to take you up on your offer, Mr. Walker,” she said firmly.

A renewed wave of adrenaline hit him at the meaning of her words. Joseph laughed uneasily. “You’re saying you want to come with me and meet your grandfather?”

“Yes, that’s what I want.” Her response was immediate.

Joseph shook his head and ran a hand over his face. A wave of dread washed over him. This was a bad idea. He’d already determined that earlier. “I don’t think you realize what you’d be getting yourself into.”

Sophie took a step back. Her forehead wrinkled, and a spark of anger shot from her eyes. “This morning you were adamant that I should go with you. You said this is why you came here.”

“I know a whole lot more about you now than I did this morning,” Joseph said slowly. “And I’ve come to think that you wouldn’t last a day away from the city, out in open country.”

Sophie’s eyes widened, her gaze flicking up at him. Her face tightened, and her hands balled into fists in front of her. “That is a harsh conclusion to draw. You know nothing about me,” she argued, her voice raised. “Why would you travel all this way only to change your mind now?”

Joseph had no intention of lying to her. “Quite honestly, I wasn’t expecting to find a pampered and spoiled white girl.”

Sophie’s jaw dropped. Her eyes narrowed, and her cheeks reddened. Joseph suppressed a grin. She looked ready to explode. Clearly, no one had ever spoken to her this directly before, and she was at a loss for words.

“Let me make this perfectly clear, Princess.” He stepped closer, and gave her a hard stare.  “Traveling through the wilderness isn’t some Sunday ride in the park. I don’t think you realize what you’d be getting yourself into, and I have no intention of playing nursemaid to a rich little white girl who can’t pull her own weight.”

Her sudden scornful laughter startled him. A woman maneuvered past them, pulling a screaming little boy behind her. Sophie kept laughing.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else and finish this discussion,” Joseph suggested, and grabbed hold of her arm again. She pulled back, and her facial muscles hardened. Her brown eyes held no hint of warmth, and she glared at him with an intensity that could almost be defined as hatred. For a fleeting second, he caught a glimpse of the woman she might have been had she grown up in an Indian village or a remote cabin in the wilderness. Had he drawn the wrong conclusion about her after all? There was nothing frilly or soft about her at the moment. Before him stood a woman who, with the right teaching, could stand up to anything, and Joseph’s pulse quickened.

“Mr. Walker,” she said slowly, her tone low. “A couple of hours ago I was referred to as a squaw. Now you’re calling me a white girl. All my life I’ve struggled to fit in with Boston’s elite, not because of my upbringing or poor social manners, but because of the color of my skin. The only reason I have been tolerated is because of my father’s wealth. Perhaps it’s time I stopped denying my tainted bloodlines, and learned where I came from.” She stood her ground and glared at him, her hands on her hips.

The impact of her words hit harder than a punch to his gut. Joseph clenched his jaw and cursed under his breath.

“That bast . . . Preston called you a squaw?” He forced the question from his mouth.

Sophie blinked back fresh tears. Her words had been spoken in cold anger, but she couldn’t hide the hurt she obviously tried to suppress. Joseph’s hands itched to wrap around Andrew Preston’s neck.

She inhaled a deep breath. “I’ve already asked James to send someone with a message to Andrew that I no longer wish to marry him. I would like the opportunity to meet my grandfather.”

Joseph’s pulse rang in his ears at her words that she called off her engagement. Not that it mattered to him, but she was better off without that bastard. He should be glad she’d changed her mind and was willing to go with him and meet Two Bears. It’s what he came to Boston for, after all. At least he wouldn’t have to explain to the old chief why he returned without his granddaughter. With any luck, he could teach her a few of the Bannock customs and language over the next few weeks so she’d be a bit more presentable.

The thought of bringing her into the wilderness gave him a decidedly uneasy feeling. For weeks, he would be saddled with a woman who didn’t know a life outside of a Boston tea parlor, but hadn’t he just seen a side of her that he didn’t believe existed several hours ago? That she came to seek him out showed a certain spunk and determination which only fueled the irrational attraction he felt for her. Joseph cursed silently. The journey home with her in tow might just be the most difficult thing he’d ever face.

Chapter Six

Sophia slipped into her morning gown, her fingers working the many buttons up the front, then tied the satin rope-like sash around her waist. She massaged at her sore scalp. The many pins that held up her hair the previous day had probably left several bruises in her skin. No matter that she wore her hair up every single day in the latest styles, her scalp would never be accustomed to it. Her dark locks tumbled down her back. Exhaling a slow breath of air, she took a seat in front of her vanity mirror and studied her own features.

She’d always hated her dark complexion and her midnight black hair. All of her so-called friends were fair-skinned, and Sophia envied them. Her bronze skin was the reason everyone talked about her behind her back, and why she’d never been accepted fully in Boston society. 

Sophia ran her fingers over her cheek, and along her jawline, and turned her head from side to side. Did she resemble her mother or her real father? She’d always assumed she looked like her mother, since she shared no common physical features with the man she had thought, up until yesterday, was her biological father. Years ago, she’d asked questions about her mother, but her father had always been rather evasive. He’d never even spoken her name, no matter how often Sophia tried to get him to divulge some information about her. His answer was always that it brought back painful memories if he had to talk about her.

In later years, when her childhood friends began to whisper in secret and point fingers at her, and exclude her from social events, Sophia blamed the woman who had given birth to her. Anything to do with Indians was obviously unacceptable, and she wished somehow she could shed her dark skin and be like everyone else around her.

Your real father was a French trapper.

Sophia tried to imagine what he might have looked like. Did he dress and act like Joseph Walker? His clothing was unlike that of any man she’d ever seen. Completely different in appearance and demeanor than the well-groomed, impeccably dressed gentlemen in Boston, Joseph was wild and rugged, from his buckskin britches and cotton shirt to his long hair. Admittedly, he was without a doubt the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on.

Did all men living out west have the same broad shoulders and sculpted arm and stomach muscles as Joseph? Lucy had obstructed much of her view on purpose in the barn yesterday afternoon. A lady wasn’t supposed to see a man’s nude chest, but one glimpse at him, and the high collar of her dress seemed to have squeezed tightly around her neck while she fought for a breath of air. 

Her face flushed, and her pulse quickened at the memory. Her arm began to tingle where he touched her. Even through the satin of her sleeve, the warmth and strength of his fingers had seeped straight into her skin. Sophia shivered involuntarily. Every encounter with Joseph had brought the same response. Andrew’s touch had never elicited such a reaction.

Sophia scoffed. Andrew’s embrace, and his kisses had left her repulsed rather than craving more. If she was completely honest with herself, she’d been afraid of him yesterday afternoon. What would have happened if Joseph hadn’t shown up when he did? Would Andrew have forced himself on her like Joseph seemed to think? She touched trembling fingers to the buttons on her gown, and shuddered. The thought was too terrifying to even contemplate.

Sophie.

A delicious chill ran down her spine. Joseph’s deep, strong voice echoed in her mind. The variation of her name he used sounded like an endearment, personal and intimate.

He doesn’t seem to like you very much.

 
When he called her Princess, it sounded like anything but an endearment, more like a nasty word.

A short knock on her bedroom door startled her from her thoughts. Who wanted to see her at this hour? She’d woken much earlier than she normally did, her sleep wrought with dreams of Indians and one ruggedly handsome backwoodsman.

“Come in,” she called, and stood from her seat at the vanity.

Lucy stormed into the room, her skirts swishing around her legs like a hurricane about to unleash its wrath.

“Your father asked that you join him for breakfast in the dining room.” Lucy marched straight for the wardrobe and pulled open the doors.

Sophia groaned. She was in no mood to get dressed this early. She’d gone to breakfast in her morning robe before, and her father had never objected.

“You may lay out my clothes for today. I’ll be back to dress after breakfast.” Sophia turned toward her maid, and braced herself for an argument.

Lucy shot her a disapproving look. Although her maid acted stern and rigid, Sophia had loved Lucy for as long as she could remember, and the older woman was the closest person she’d had to a mother figure while growing up. Even though Lucy usually upheld the strict social boundaries required of a servant in public, she never hesitated to voice her opinion or disapproval when Sophia acted in a way that she deemed unbecoming of a lady when it was just the two of them. Unlike other people, Lucy had never frowned at her mixed bloodlines, and had encouraged her throughout the years to hold her chin up and be proud of the person she was.

The maid pulled a satin blue dress from the closet. “You are a grown woman, Miss Sophia. It is hardly becoming that you should be seen without proper attire.”

Sophia darted for the bedroom door and pulled it open. “Daddy won’t mind,” she called over her shoulder and slipped into the hallway before Lucy could stop her.

 “Miss Sophia, come back here and dress yourself properly,” Lucy called after her in exasperation.

Sophia hurried toward the stairs. Eating breakfast with her father in her morning robe wasn’t nearly as bold as what she had done yesterday. Sending the note to Andrew to sever her engagement, or seeking out Joseph Walker and asking him to take her out of Boston and into the unknown wilderness was definitely more audacious than anything she’d done before.

She bounced lightly down the stairs, enjoying the feeling of her unbound hair and breathing freely without the confines of a corset. A rush of adrenaline passed through her.  Even after everything that had happened yesterday, somehow her heart and mind felt light. Cancelling her engagement to Andrew had been the most liberating thing she’d ever done and, even though it hurt deeply, she was glad that she’d overheard him and his father talking in the barn. Marrying him would have been the worst mistake of her life. A part of her wondered if her decision to go west wasn’t an impulsive mistake as well.  She had to believe there was a place for her somewhere where people didn’t shun her or look at her with disapproving eyes.

 Before she parted ways with Joseph at the livery late yesterday afternoon, he had told her that he’d be at the house sometime today to discuss the journey west. She hadn’t told her father of her plans to leave Boston, and she was eager to do so. How would he react to the news? Would he have ever told her about her real parents, had Joseph not arrived on their doorstep?

“Good morning, Miss Sophia,” James greeted her just before she reached the dining room. He raised his eyebrows at her before his expression turned again to one of indifference.

“Good morning, James. Is my father taking his breakfast in the dining room?”

“Yes, Miss Sophia, but there is—”

“Thank you, James.” Sophia wasn’t in the mood for another lecture on her lack of proper dress. She’d known James all her life, and he often joined Lucy in, what they considered, watching out for her well-being. She rushed past her father’s trusted butler and opened the doors to the dining room herself. No sooner had she entered, when she stopped in her tracks. Her father stood by the fireplace, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand, in apparent deep conversation with Joseph Walker.

Both men’s heads turned in her direction. Sophia swallowed. Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks. Joseph’s stare seemed to penetrate right through her. His eyes roamed over her boldly. No man had ever looked at her with such appreciation before. There was no hint of disdain or disapproval in his gaze.  She stepped back involuntarily, her hand groping blindly for the door handle behind her.

“Sophia,” her father greeted.  “You’re just in time for breakfast.” The warm smile she usually received from him in the mornings was missing, replaced by a look of concern.

Sophia’s eyes darted back to Joseph. “I . . . ah . . . I’ll join you shortly, Daddy. I didn’t know we had company. I’d best go see about getting dressed properly.” She was about to turn when Joseph’s voice stopped her.

“Don’t change into some fancy duds on my account, Princess. Looks like you’re covered up enough.  I’m used to seeing women wear less in the dead of winter than what you’ve got on right now.” His look was challenging, a twinkle in his eyes. Was he deliberately trying to provoke her, hoping she would retract her decision to go with him?

Sophia raised her chin. She wasn’t about to cower, and might as well continue with her daring behavior.  “Well in that case, let’s eat. I’m famished.” She stepped further into the room and headed for the table, which was already set for three.

Joseph grinned, and her heart somersaulted in her chest.

Her father held a chair for her while she took her seat at the table, glad to take the weight off her weak legs. To her dismay, Joseph chose to sit across from her, putting him directly in her line of vision.

“Sophia,” her father said slowly after taking his seat. He cleared his throat. Maddie, the kitchen maid, brought fresh coffee for the men, and Sophia’s usual cup of tea.  “Joseph tells me you intend to go with him out west?”

Sophia glanced at Joseph. She had wanted to break the news to her father slowly, but apparently Joseph had beaten her to it. His brows raised expectantly, as if he was all too eager to hear what she had to say. She tore her eyes away from him and looked at her father.

“Yes, Daddy. I broke my engagement to Andrew. I overheard him and Mr. Preston talking that the only reason Andrew wants to marry me is so that he could get control of Yancey Enterprises. He obviously didn’t want me because he loved me.” Sophia’s voice trailed off, and she blinked back the stinging sensation in her eyes. She stared into her cup of tea, but not before venturing one final peek at Joseph.

The muscles along his jaw visibly clenched and unclenched, and the amused grin vanished. His stare turned hard, with a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

“I’ve questioned some of Lloyd Preston’s business practices in the past, but I never thought he would stoop so low,” her father said, his voice raised in anger. “I’ll be cancelling all of my dealings with him from now on.” He reached a hand out and placed it over Sophia’s, giving hers a light squeeze. “I wanted only the best for you. Andrew seemed like an outstanding choice. I’m so sorry for my lack of judgment.”

Sophia forced a smile. It took every ounce of self-control she possessed to focus her eyes on her father and not glance in Joseph’s direction.

“I’m just glad I found out now,” she whispered.

“But to make such a hasty decision to leave Boston and head out west?” her father continued. “You have no idea what sort of hardships that will bring. You’re not prepared for such a journey.”

“Daddy,” Sophia replied slowly. “What happened yesterday made me realize that this is something I have to do.  I want to find out where I came from. I believe you’ve kept the truth from me for good reason, and I’ll always consider you to be my father, but I need to know about my real parents.”

“Well, then.” Her father sat up straighter. “If that’s what you want, I’ll need a few days to get my business dealings in order, and then we can plan for our adventure into the Teton wilderness.” He smiled brightly at her.

Sophia pulled her hand out from under her father’s, and shook her head.

“No, Daddy. This is something I need to do on my own.” All her life she’d been under Byron Yancey’s protection. His name and money would not benefit her where Joseph planned to go. And it was time she learned to stand on her own two feet. Joseph had accused her yesterday that she wasn’t strong enough to handle the journey, and for some reason it became vitally important to prove him wrong.