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Yes, it was worth a try, she finally decided. She so badly wanted to see Dancing Cloud on this horse, the two seemingly meant for each other. And her uncle surely would not resent Dancing Cloud so much that he would refuse to help Lauralee in this little scheme. He knew by now that nothing he said or did would change her mind about him.
“He is truly beautiful.” Lauralee sighed, reaching a hand to the stallion’s mane, gently stroking it. “Wouldn’t you love to ride him, Dancing Cloud?”
She turned. A tall, thin man was approaching at a brisk clip. He wore denim breeches and shirt, high-heeled cowboy boots, and a fancy leather belt to match the boots. A large diamond ring flashing on a finger of his right hand revealed to Lauralee that he was a wealthy man.
“I don’t take to strangers hangin’ around my horses,” Kevin Banks said in a snarl, ignoring Lauralee’s show of friendship. His thick, black eyebrows fused as he frowned from Lauralee to Dancing Cloud. “Go on. Scat. The both of you. Get outta here.”
Lauralee was shocked almost speechless by his attitude, then she stubbornly lifted her chin. “You are quite rude, sir,” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “We were only admiring your horses, not stealing them.”
“One usually admires just prior to stealin’,” Kevin said in a low snarl. He turned slow eyes to Dancing Cloud and gazed intensely at him. “Injuns are clever at stealin’ horses.” He motioned with a nod of his head toward Dancing Cloud. “Get him outta here.”
“Sir, I am certain that Dancing Cloud is used to being insulted by cads like yourself,” Lauralee said, anger firing her eyes. “And he is being a gentleman for not taking a swing at you. But as for me? I have never been as insulted, as now.”
She paused and breathed in a deep gulp of air. “I shall tell my Uncle Abner about this,” she warned. “He won’t appreciate you treating me, or my fiancé, so callously.”
“Abner?” Kevin said, arching an eyebrow. He straightened his back and shuffled his feet nervously. “Are you speakin’ of Abner Peterson? You’re the niece I’ve been hearin’ about? This is the Injun? The Cherokee? And . . . you . . . refer to him as your . . . fiancé . . . ?”
“Yes, my uncle is Abner Peterson, and yes, Dancing Cloud is my fiancé,” Lauralee said, smiling smugly up at him. “And I don’t think you or anyone would want to fall out of grace with my uncle. He wields much power in this city. Should you ever give him cause to meet face to face with him in court, I pity you.”
Kevin stared down at Lauralee for a moment longer, then shifted a quick glance Dancing Cloud’s way, then hurried to the white stallion and patted him.
“So you’d like to ride this grand beast, eh?” he said, giving Dancing Cloud a guarded, sidewise glance.
Dancing Cloud’s jaw was clenched and his lips were pressed tightly together. His eyes were filled with a loathing he dared not act out. “The horse intrigues this Cherokee, but no, I do not wish to ride it,” he said, his heart not agreeing with his words.
In truth, he wanted to feel the power of this horse beneath him.
He wanted to share this bonding that had been there at the first meeting of their eyes.
But to do so would leave him wanting the stallion. He had nothing to trade for the horse. Even if he did he would not make trade with this man, a man whose tongue was too loose and filled with venom toward himself, a Cherokee.
Lauralee understood why Dancing Cloud had refused the chance to ride the beautiful horse. She held her chin high as she walked back to the horse and buggy with Dancing Cloud, Kevin Banks gaping after them.
Just as Dancing Cloud started to swing away from The Stables in the buggy, Lauralee saw another place that her aunt had talked about often.
Tomaso’s.
It was the inn and tearoom that sat not that far from The Stables, where her aunt met her friends and had tea and cake.
An Italian man by the name of Tony Collodi owned the inn.
There had been some rumors that one of Mr. Collodi’s close relatives, who still lived in Italy, had written a children’s book that he had titled The Adventures of Pinocchio. It was about a little puppet boy whose wooden nose grew longer each time he told a lie, and after many adventures, Pinocchio’s ambition to become a real, live boy, was fulfilled.
The book had not yet been published, but there was much excitement about it. Some said that the book would one day reach America and be a classic!
As in the book, Lauralee’s life seemed to correlate somewhat with that small puppet Pinnochio who wanted to become a real, live person. She had always wanted to feel like a normal person, real in every sense.
And she had achieved the goal, thanks to her father for having come into her life again. Even if for only a short while. And also to the Petersons. But mostly Dancing Cloud. When she joined him as his wife, everything that she had wanted in her life would have come true.
She gazed at him. She ached inside over the constant humiliation that he had to endure because he differed from others in the color of his skin, and culture. A sudden fear came to her. What if her peace of mind and feeling of belonging were premature? What if Dancing Cloud’s people treated her as an outcast and wrought humiliation after humiliation upon her when she went to live among them?
What if they did not share Dancing Cloud’s feelings for her?
She was afraid they might even cause him to change his mind about her and send her away. She was not sure if she could stand another rejection, another deprival.
She scooted over on the seat and slipped an arm through Dancing Cloud’s and clung to him. When he cast her a look void of expression, a chill soared through her. What if he was thinking the same thing that had troubled her only moments ago? She might not even get as far as his village to be tested by his people!
“You do love me, don’t you?” she murmured. “You do still want me, don’t you?”
