Warrior's Prize (Panorama of the Old West Book 15) Page 3

  “He only proposed a few days ago. I meant to break it to you when we were alone. Cleve’s wonderful when you get to know him—so debonair, good family, and so handsome.”

  “Hmm.” Keso didn’t smile as he danced woodenly.

  “He knows all the right people and has exquisite taste.” She was both hurt and annoyed at Keso’s lukewarm response.

  “In some ways, little Wannie, you haven’t changed.” He didn’t look at her as they danced. “Jewels and fancy clothes always dazzled you.”

  “I don’t see that that’s wrong,” Wannie complained. “It’s positively silly the way our family only digs enough gold and silver out of the ground to live a simple life.”

  “To turn it into a giant mining operation might pollute the land and bring a lot of greedy people into our area. That would create problems for the tribes and we’ve always been friends of the Indians. Besides, you know Silver and Cherokee prefer a simple life.”

  “Well, I don’t!” Wannie snapped. She was crushed and angry that her brother didn’t approve of her choice.

  “How would you know?” he reminded her. “You haven’t been home in four years.”

  “It’s so dull out there in the mountains, rarely even going to Denver, and Lord knows they don’t have any real society.”

  “Maybe now you can educate all us poor yokels so we can think about really important things like stylish cravats.”

  “Oh, you don’t understand at all! I suppose what you’re really upset about is that I didn’t ask your opinion. I’m not your kid sister anymore, Keso; I don’t have to ask for my big brother’s permission.” Wannie pulled away from him and walked off the dance floor. She was filled with disappointment that her beloved Keso disapproved of Cleve; she had thought he would be glad for her. At least she had finally done something that would have met with her mother’s approval. The Brewsters were rich and prominent—that would have impressed the duchess. More important, this prominent family approved of Wannie and were ready to welcome her into their midst.

  What difference did it make if her foster brother liked her future husband or not? After all, she wasn’t going to be living out on the raw Colorado frontier anymore. As Mrs. Cleveland Brewster, Jr., she would live the good life at the family estate in upstate New York and perhaps vacation at Newport or the British seashore. She’d bring her foster parents back East to visit and dazzle them with the fine things they didn’t even seem to know about. If only her real mother were alive to know her disappointing little daughter had finally made the grade.

  She flounced toward the doorway, but Cleve caught up with her. “What’s the matter? You and your brother seem to be having a disagreement.”

  She felt herself flush. “He’s—he’ll just take some time to get used to my engagement, Cleve, dear. You could probably win him over by asking him to be your best man.”

  Cleve frowned and ran one hand through his luxuriant yellow hair. “Everyone will expect me to ask one of my Harvard friends. Besides, the way he’s glaring at me, don’t count on him even showing up at the wedding.”

  “I don’t know what’s the matter with him.” Wannie blinked back tears. “I was so looking forward to his meeting you and your family.”

  “Don’t fret, my darling,” he said and took her hand. “I’m sure it can all be smoothed over.”

  “Thank you for being so understanding; I’m sorry my brother is so rude.” She watched Keso as Alexa came up to him quite boldly and pulled him out on the dance floor. He was holding her roommate very close and Alexa was looking up into his face, not even seeming to care that he didn’t know the steps. He glanced back over his shoulder at Wannie and held Alexa even closer. Somehow, that annoyed Wannie.

  At her elbow, Cleve said, “It appears your brother is quite taken with my snooty cousin. I don’t know whether to doubt his taste or his intelligence.”

  “Oh, don’t be glib,” Wannie said, dabbing at her eyes. “Alexa is beautiful.”

  “I’d say the way he’s looking at her, he certainly thinks so, even if he is stepping all over her feet. Would you like to dance, Wannie?”

  She nodded and he whirled her out on the floor. Cleve Brewster was an excellent dancer. He guided Wannie around the floor so expertly that others made way for them, the other ladies giving him admiring looks. When the music ended, they were the only ones left on the floor and the crowd applauded. Keso looked miserable and embarrassed, even with Alexa clinging to his arm.

  Wannie’s heart went out to him. “Cleve, he’s not having a good time. He doesn’t fit in well and he’s probably uncomfortable about mixing with all these elegant people.”

  Cleve stifled a yawn. “Cousin Alexa seems entranced.”

  Somehow, that rankled Wannie. “He’s never been out of Colorado before; I do so want him to enjoy his trip.”

  Cleve bent over her hand. “My dear, your wish is my command. I have an idea.”

  “Yes?”

  “Mother would be greatly relieved to marry off my sharp-tongued cousin, even to a—”

  “A what?” Why did she have such a sinking, uneasy feeling?

  He took both her hands and kissed her fingertips. “A—a brother of the girl I adore. Let me tell you my idea.”

  People around them were amused as poor Keso stumbled over Alexa’s feet again. Wannie ached for him. “Cleve, he’s making such a fool of himself, poor thing! What’s your plan?”

  “Nothing compared to what I think my sly cousin might have in mind. Just notice how she stares into his eyes as they dance.”

  Wannie looked, knowing she ought to be glad the two were attracted to each other. Still, she felt troubled. Alexa might be a beauty, but she was brittle and shallow with a sharp tongue. “She doesn’t seem his type. I don’t know if she could make him happy.”

  “Happy? You’re so naive and innocent, my darling. Most upper class marriages don’t make that a priority.”

  “Don’t be cynical.” Wannie tapped him lightly with her lace fan. For some reason, it annoyed her that Keso was staring raptly at the beautiful blonde.

  Abruptly, Wannie was ashamed to be so selfish, but she had always thought of Keso as her possession—swinging her up in his arms, letting her ride behind him on his horse, trying to comb her long, dark hair and put it up in pigtails She ought to be glad for him if he fell in love as she had done.

  “Look, Wannie, I’m sorry,” Cleve was contrite and charming. “We’re tired from all the events and excitement. But I’ll have to admit I’m disappointed your brother doesn’t seem to like me.”

  Disappointed? Wannie was heartbroken. “If he only knew you as well as I do—”

  “Egad, that’s my plan!” Cleve crowed. “We’ll invite him to the estate.”

  “What?”

  “Weren’t we talking of you coming home with my family for a few weeks after graduation so you could look everything over and make wedding plans?”

  “I hadn’t mentioned that to my family yet.”

  “Well, my dear,” be smiled, “this is the perfect answer. It will be very proper as long as we have your brother along as a chaperon.”

  “I can’t imagine he’d want to go—he can probably hardly wait to get back to the mountains.” She turned and looked toward the dance floor. Keso was staring over Alexa’s head at her.

  “The way he’s clinging to my pretty cousin,” Cleve said, “I have a feeling she could get him to agree.”

  Wannie frowned, annoyed with herself at the thought. “Hmm. If he came to visit, it would give Keso a chance to know your whole family better.”

  He nodded. “Judging from the way my cousin’s hanging onto him, I’d say that’s just what Alexa had in mind.”

  Again, she felt slightly troubled as she watched the pair dance, then felt disloyal to both. Alexa had some shortcomings, but she was beautiful and that meant a lot to a man. “Cleve, I think you’re right—it’s a wonderful idea!”

  “No, you’re wonderful and I’m determined to have you,
no matter what I have to do.” He danced her out onto the veranda and kissed the tip of her nose, then took her in his arms. “Mother thinks of nothing but society, and this will give her the chance to throw a whirl of parties and teas to introduce you around. There’ll be endless shopping and jewelers making trips to the estate to show their wares. Why, I might buy you some pieces every bit as fine as that necklace you’ve inherited from your mother. I take it she left you quite a collection of jewels?”

  “Some.” Wannie touched the pearls and rubies entwined around her throat. “My mother loved fine things.” Through the French doors, she watched Keso dance with Alexa. They were dancing so close, it could cause gossip—especially since Alexa was in the arms of a stranger.

  Cleve said, “When your adopted mother feels better, you can invite the Evanses up to spend some time and get acquainted.” He kissed her and she waited for the sky rockets that she’d heard other girls giggle about. It was nice, but not exhilarating. Well, maybe her classmates had exaggerated. What was important was that she and Cleve shared all the same goals and interests.

  She heard a sound and whirled out of Cleve’s arms. Alexa and Keso stood in the doorway.

  Keso glared at Cleve. “I must protest this, Brewster. People will talk.”

  “Oh, let them talk,” Cleve said irritably. “We’re going to be married.”

  “But you’re not married yet,” Keso snapped.

  Wannie was sure she would melt into the porch with humiliation. She resisted the urge to point out how close Keso had been dancing with Alexa. “Please, Keso, don’t act like such an outraged older brother.”

  Alexa tittered. “I’d love to be kissed like that.”

  Keso ignored the bold invitation and glared at Cleve. A muscle jerked in his hard jaw. “I’m very protective of Wannie.”

  Tears came to Wannie’s eyes as the memories flooded back. When she was a small child, she had almost worshipped the street-wise boy from the moment she had been lifted to the back of his horse and they had ridden away from the smoldering ruins of the destroyed hotel. From that moment on, she had followed him about like a puppy, madly in love. He patiently endured her hero worship. Yet she was grown up now and realized he only thought of her as a pesty kid sister that he had to tolerate because the Evanses had raised them both. Of course, Keso wanted only the best for her, so if he were overprotective and hostile toward her suitor, perhaps he could be forgiven.

  Cleve extended his hand. “I will protect her from now on. Let’s shake, Keso. I want you to come up to the estate for a few weeks, look things over, get to know us all.”

  “When is the wedding?” Keso seemed to be shaking hands reluctantly.

  Wannie breathed a sigh of relief; she did want the two to like each other. “We haven’t set the date, but a society wedding takes months to plan.”

  “That’s right,” Alexa said.

  Keso seemed to be considering. “In that case, I suppose I accept.”

  Alexa laughed with delight and caught Keso’s muscular arm. “And that gives us more time together. I’m looking forward to that.”

  Keso glared at Wannie in the moonlight, then put his big hand over Alexa’s small one and smiled at her. “So am I. Now come, Miss Alexa, you promised to teach me some new dance steps.”

  Wannie watched them stride across the veranda and back into the ballroom, the tall man taking shorter steps so Alexa could keep up with him. Wannie’s mind was not on tomorrow’s graduation or the trip to the Brewsters’ sumptuous estate. For some reason that she couldn’t fathom, all she could focus on was the way Alexa had her small hand draped possessively over Keso’s muscular arm as they returned to the dance floor.

  “Happy, my dear?” Cleve took her hand and kissed her fingertips.

  “What? Oh, yes, of course.” Frankly, she wasn’t sure how she felt at this moment.

  “Then I suppose I’ve delayed giving you this long enough.”

  He had her undivided attention now and she whirled to face him. “Oh, Cleve, a surprise? I love surprises!”

  “I’ll bet you do, you little minx. Now close your eyes.” He took her in his arms.

  Wannie closed her eyes. Cleve smelled of pipe tobacco and expensive hair tonic. His custom-made coat of the finest broadcloth was soft against her face. Maybe she had expected too much.

  She felt him reach in his pocket. “It’s just a small bauble that’s been passed down through my mother’s family.”

  “Oh, Cleve!” She blinked as he slipped the ring on her finger. “What a spectacular stone!”

  “A pretty for a pretty.” He smiled and the cleft in his chin deepened. “This is a diamond worthy of the daughter of a duchess.”

  She held her hand up and let the light streaming through the French doors reflect on it. “I can hardly wait to show it off.”

  He laughed. “I hope it doesn’t look skimpy by comparison with the jewels the duchess left you.”

  “There aren’t many jewels left, Cleve; most were sold to finance the Silver Heels Mine until Cherokee struck it rich.”

  “Oh?” In the shadows, she wasn’t quite sure of his expression. “But of course you own a great many mining claims yourself?”

  She shook her head. “No, the mines belong to Cherokee and Silver. Does it matter?”

  “Of course not, my darling.” He kissed her lightly. “It’s just that my family feels easier with people of our own station and background.”

  “I understand.”

  Cleve nodded almost apologetically. “I think Father feared I might choose a girl who isn’t up to our standards; he’s so proud of our aristocratic heritage. Bloodlines count, he says.”

  Bloodlines. She didn’t want to think about hers. The music stopped and Keso and Alexa returned to the veranda. Wannie couldn’t contain her excitement. “Look!” She held out her hand.

  Alexa grabbed her hand, peering at the sparkling diamond. “Oh, the Griswold diamond from Aunt Bertha’s side of the family. That should turn a few heads.”

  “Very nice,” Keso said as he stared at it with a grim face.

  He could have been a little more polite, Wannie thought.

  Cleve put Wannie’s arm over his and patted her hand. “I think we should go make the official announcement from the bandstand.”

  Wannie smiled. “Let’s!”

  It was afternoon in Colorado as Cherokee paused in the bedroom door and watched his beloved Silver napping. She stirred and those magnificent aqua eyes blinked open.

  “I’m sorry, sweet darlin’,” he drawled, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “It’s all right,” she whispered, “I’m almost well now; Doc said so.”

  He sat down on the bed and stroked the pale silver hair that had given her her nickname. The Cherokee half-breed had been bitter toward all women until Silver Jones had come into his life. “Well, by now, our Wannie’s graduated.”

  “Drat!” she said, “I really hate it that I got sick and we couldn’t go to Boston.”

  “Can’t be helped,” he soothed. “Besides, they’ll be home in a few days and we’ll celebrate then.”

  She smiled up at him. Once she had been the most celebrated beauty in the Rockies, the dance hall girl called Silver Heels. Now there were tiny lines around her eyes, but Cherokee loved her even more now than he had the day they wed fifteen years ago.

  Silver looked at her gold nugget bracelet, then up at him and touched his dark hair, now streaked with gray. He was forty-eight years old and his tanned face was weathered, but Cherokee Evans was the only man she would ever love. “I’ve been lying here looking at my bracelet, remembering the night you gave it to me.”

  He smiled as if remembering, too. “And then we married and took in two stray children.” He turned her hand over and kissed the palm, folding her fingers over it as if the kiss were a treasure that might be lost. It was a secret sign of love between them.

  “The night you gave me the bracelet was when I was still beautiful.”

&
nbsp; “Silver, you will always be beautiful to me. What you did, nursing the sick during that smallpox epidemic, took a real heroine. You’ve become a legend, you know that? They’ve named a mountain for you—Mt. Silver Heels.”

  “I’ve still got the silver shoes,” she admitted sheepishly. “Once in awhile, I put them on; Wannie always liked to wear them.” After she’d been scarred by smallpox, Silver had fled to Denver and taken a job as governess to a rich woman’s child.

  “Buckskin Joe’s almost a ghost town now; the mines have played out. Maybe we should go back sometime and visit the few old-timers who might be left.”

  She didn’t answer, both of them knowing why she did not want to return. Once the most beautiful woman in the Rockies, they had called her Silver Heels because of those dancing shoes. She wanted those who had known her in the days she owned the Nugget Saloon to remember her as she had been. Cherokee seemed blind to her scarred face, but then, he looked with eyes of love.

  “I forgot,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “A passing trapper brought a telegram while you were asleep.”

  “You rascal!” She sat up in bed eagerly. “You’ve got a message from the kids and you’re just now mentioning it? Open it.”

  Cherokee opened it, staring at the words. “Oh, hell, they’re not coming right home. They’re going to visit Wannie’s roommate’s family.”

  “Keso, too? That doesn’t sound like him.” She took the telegram and reread it.

  “As I remember from past letters, Wannie’s roommate is a pretty blonde. Maybe he likes pale hair as much as I do.”

  Silver frowned. “Drat it all. Somehow, I always hoped Wannie and Keso were going to end up together; they seemed like such a perfect match.”

  “I’d like that, too, but sometimes things just don’t work out that way,” Cherokee shrugged. “Maybe they think of each other as brother and sister.”

  Silver considered. “You might be right. He always called her ‘brat.’ ”

  Cherokee nodded. “He’s a deep one. You never know what Keso’s thinking; he keeps his thoughts to himself.”