Chapter Seventeen
Hattie had never seen a Christmas pageant rehearsal like this before. Francine cuddled up next to her, smelling like strong soap and chalk dust, and together they watched as the students learned their lines. A few of them spoke the syllables haltingly. When Mrs. Lehrman gave them direction, another student would translate.
Their school clothes were creased sharply, starched and proper. Round brown faces contrasted with stiff white collars. The older girls’ shiny black braids coiled around their heads elegantly, while the younger girls’ braids hung down their shoulders. The boys all had short haircuts, all but Tom, whose braids marked him as a newcomer to the program.
Hattie caught Francine smiling up at her. The girl seemed content enough at the school. It would be a pity if the doors closed and she could no longer attend. Hattie might as well see if she could help Jack in his work while she was here.
“Francine, you said there’s a scary man about. Can you show me where you saw him?”
Francine’s smile disappeared. She lowered her eyes and pulled her feet up on the bench to hide them beneath her long skirt. “I didn’t see him. It was Cold Rain who saw him.”
“Cold Rain? Where is she?”
“She went home. Her father came and got her when they found out. The man had already stolen her blanket.”
“But you haven’t seen anything?” When the girl shook her head, Hattie scanned the faces of the children on the stage. What was behind this rumor? Childish imagination or something more nefarious? But there was another question. “How did Cold Rain get word to her father?” Hattie asked. The children were learning to read and write, but the parents couldn’t.
Francine shrugged. “Boys run away to the villages. Girls, too. They get a special meal and honor for bringing messages for the families, then they come back to the school. Maybe Cold Rain told the messenger that she wanted to go home.”
Hattie looked at the assembled students with newfound respect. They might be singing English songs and celebrating a Christian tradition, but they had their own ways and their own system of communication that their instructors knew nothing about. “Do you want to show me where Cold Rain saw the spirit?”
Francine’s eyes grew wide. “It was by her bed. She woke up, and it was floating over her.”
“C’mon.” Hattie stood. “I’ll ask the headmistress if we can go back to the school—”
Francine hopped up. “I want to sing.” Running from Hattie like she’d suddenly threatened her life, Francine bounded onto the stage and wormed her way into the line of the choir between two girls her age.
Hattie snorted.
“I was just going to compliment you on your skill with children.” Jack stood in the aisle, blocking her end of the row.
The lines of the choir split, and Tom and one of the older girls walked through.
“Joseph and Mary,” Jack said.
“Where is Baby Jesus?” Hattie asked. But then the couple turned to start the procession, and she saw a rag doll strapped onto a cradleboard hanging from the girl’s back. She and Jack looked at each other and laughed.
“Why not?” Jack said. “It’s the best way to carry a baby on a donkey.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Hattie replied. “My skills with children don’t extend that far.”
The a cappella singing grew louder as the holy family made their way across the stage to where the shepherds had finally ceased their fighting and were kneeling. Turning, Jack eased his way between the benches and motioned for Hattie to sit.
“Did you learn anything from your little friend?” he asked.
He’d removed his overcoat, and as much as Hattie was attached to that piece of wool, she had to admit he cut a striking figure in his uniform. “Francine was scared,” she said. But at Jack’s wrinkled brow, she realized he couldn’t hear her. She scooted closer on the bench. “She said that Cold Rain woke to see the spirit floating above her bed. Francine didn’t see anything herself, though.”
He put his arm on the back of the bench and leaned in. “The same Cold Rain who was punished for losing her blanket?”
“She isn’t here anymore. She’s one of the students who returned home.”
“From which village?”
Hattie could only shrug. And marvel at how his proximity made her heart feel bigger.
“Oh, and Jack?” The song had ended. The students began gathering the props from the stage, but Hattie and Jack barely noticed. “Cold Rain’s father knew to come get her. The students take turns running away from school to get messages home to their folks. It’s organized by the tribe.”
Jack blinked in disbelief. “The chief knows they’re going to leave?”
“The way Francine told it, everyone knows. They’re given a big meal and sent back to the school with messages for the other students.”
“All this time we’re tracking them down, scared that we’ve lost a child, when really their parents know exactly where they are. They need to think of a better way. Every time a student leaves, he misses a week of classes at least.”
“Why couldn’t you or one of the soldiers take messages for them? If it would help the children stay in their classes?”
She’d turned to face him. He was so close. She’d never been this close to a man before. Not without kissing him, anyway. So, yes, she had been this close to a man, but not Jack.
“They wouldn’t trust us, especially if the messages are criticisms of the school, teachers, and various spirits that haunt the dormitory. I wouldn’t want to deliver those messages anyway, so maybe they shouldn’t trust me.” His eyes held hers with a delicious slow burn that completely surprised her. “Maybe I’m not trustworthy,” he said.
Those last words had slowed. She couldn’t keep gazing into his eyes. Not without doing something she’d regret. Instead she spotted a rough patch on his jaw. With her thumb, she scrubbed at it.
“You missed a spot shaving,” she said.
He held very still as if she could wipe it away. “I was in a hurry this morning. There was a beautiful woman downstairs fixing me breakfast.”
Something in Arapaho was said loudly, and all the kids huffed out their laughter. Hattie scooted away from Jack and sat with her back flat against the bench. There was pointing, smiling, and dancing.
“Are they laughing at us?” she whispered. She’d forgotten that she and Jack weren’t trying to playact for anyone.
He stood and bowed to the students. “Go on,” he said. “I’ll be there in a second.”
Those who understood raced through the room, the first ones hitting the heavy wooden doors and making them fly. Those still learning English were only a few steps behind. Whatever had transpired, Jack was taking credit for it.
He took Hattie’s hand and raised her to her feet. “Remember the treat I’ve been working on? Mrs. Lehrman informed them that they will get to skate today.”
Hattie had only been ice skating a few times. It took a hard winter to freeze the ponds in Van Buren, and it sure didn’t feel cold enough here.
“They like skating?”
“Don’t all children? Let’s go.” But instead of heading off to a frozen pond, Jack walked her down the street to a massive three-story warehouse, the commissary.
“Is there a pond around back?”
He frowned, then understanding lit his face. “Ahh, you’re in for a surprise.” He hummed a quick tune as he escorted her inside and then up two flights of stairs.
This was so much better than staying home and rearranging Jack’s library. Being with him made her feel special.
If only what she was experiencing were real.
The noise grew as they neared the top of the staircase. The doors opened onto a gigantic room with children whirling throughout. Hattie drew back from the speeding children to get a better look. Roller skates were strapped onto their feet over their sturdy government-supplied shoes. The rhythmic thumping of the skates on the boards sounded like one hundred muffled drums. The excitement in the room was overwhelming. Hattie’s pulse raced. Jack’s face lit up like a boy’s.
“How long since you went skating?” he asked.
“Never on roller skates. Isn’t this the commissary?” Stacked crates lined the walls. Those children without skates sat on barrels like statues on pedestals, while the troopers who had accompanied them helped unsteady skaters keep their balance.
“Usually it’s pretty empty. That’s why I sent the troopers here early to push all the goods to the side and oil up the skates. We haven’t done this in a long time. Most of the students have probably never tried it before.”
But they were quick learners. Even Tom was scooting around stiff-legged with his hands held out to his sides. Hattie wished she had her paints to capture the new learners’ efforts. The angle of the young Arapaho bodies bending at the waist and leaning forward, the intent concentration of their eyes, the fingers held out even though there was nothing to catch but air—the scene was irresistible.
Already, Hattie could feel a shift in her appreciation. Before, she’d looked for beauty when choosing a subject—a sunset, a butterfly wing, a mountain. But she was finding herself more drawn to the emotion, the action of the scene. Because that was where she could most clearly see the character, and somehow character was becoming more interesting by the minute.
Was this what the critics had meant? Was this change what the curators were looking for? Perhaps, but the criticism no longer hurt. Hattie couldn’t be anything but happy watching the youngsters’ exuberance.
She bounced on her toes. The chase was so entertaining. Two boys zoomed past her, and Jack put out a protective arm.
“Maybe we should wait behind the barrels,” he said.
She obediently found a more protected place. She had to squeeze in between the barrel and the wall amid some sacks, but she wanted there to be enough room for Jack, too. She wanted to hear more stories and information about the Indians.
Jack nodded at a set of double doors at the end of the room. “Those doors are for loading and unloading the crates,” he said. “They open to a pulley above them and nothing below. Excuse me while I make sure they’re locked down into the floor. If a kid slams into them and they open, it’d be a tragedy.”
She shuddered to think about the height they were at on the third story, but the chaos of the skating students soon distracted her.
A trooper stepped forward, inserted two fingers in his mouth, and blew a sharp blast. Groans filled the air from those skating. Those sitting on the barrels hopped off and began chasing down a skater.
“Now the others get their turn,” Jack said as he returned.
The skaters were sprawled across the room, their skates being hurriedly removed by their impatient classmates. A few still skated, trying to outrun those waiting, but the waiters were organized. They spread out, cornered them, and pulled them to the ground.
“Watch an expert at work,” Jack said.
She watched as he went from student to student, studying their discarded skates. Sometimes he would give a wheel a spin. Finally, he found a pair that met his approval. He dropped to the floor next to a long, lean boy with a mischievous grin, and Jack began strapping on the skates right over his cavalry boots. He stood slowly and tested first one leg, then the other, with the same concentration she’d seen him expend at the blackboard over a challenging arithmetic problem. Then, satisfied, he gave her a triumphant grin before launching into a race.
Hattie hadn’t meant to laugh so loudly. She covered her mouth, shocked as Jack’s long legs powered him quickly around the circle. The boy he’d sat by knew he was being chased. He glanced over his shoulder, both his smile and his eyes growing wide as Jack closed in on him. But the boy wasn’t an easy catch. While Jack was bigger and stronger, the boy was nimble, and in a room full of skating children, he could dart and dodge better than Jack.
The other boys saw what was happening. Their war whoops nearly made Hattie’s heart stop, but she couldn’t be afraid. Not here. Not with all the innocent laughter and high spirits. The children were scattering. Taking to the sides, they watched as Jack chased the taunting boy, but the clearer the floor, the fewer places there were for him to hide. Instead of going in circles, now it was a game of tag. The boy cut one way, then another. Jack needed more room to change directions, and that kept the boy just out of his reach.
But the boy was running out of people to dodge through. He was trapped on one side of the room. When he started left, Jack edged that direction, all the time closing in on him. The closer he got, the more Jack grinned. They were laughing, taunting each other in a language she didn’t know, but she could easily understand the gist. The boys and girls along the walls yelled their encouragement, some to their classmate and some to Jack. Seeing that the noose was tightening, the boy made a desperate dash to get past Jack and back into the open room. Once he committed to his direction, Jack picked up speed to head him off, but just as the boy passed a group of his classmates, a small wooden crate tumbled out of the crowd and into Jack’s path.
He didn’t have time to stop. Was he agile enough to dodge it? Hattie’s hand covered her mouth. Right when it looked like Jack was going to crash into the crate, he bent and, with a mighty leap, jumped over the box.
Hattie cheered along with the students, but they were premature. Jack did jump over the crate—he even cleared it—but when his skates hit the ground on the other side, he lost his balance. Like a tall tree being felled, Jack went down, limbs waving in the air until he hit the ground with a mighty crash.
The boy turned, now worried for the lieutenant. The girls were scolding the younger boy who’d thrown the crate into his path. With open palms, they slapped the fellow, who flinched away from the punishment he was facing. But Jack just rolled over, flopped on his back, and laughed like he’d never had so much fun before.
Hattie found herself trying to get to him, but her foot was tangled in the drawstring of an old sack. Kicking to free herself, she watched as the boy skated back around and offered Jack a hand up. Jack clasped his hand and got to his feet. There was a lot of good-natured ribbing and slaps on the back as Jack congratulated the boy, and then he was surrounded by his classmates. Hattie waited by the barrel as Jack skated to her, looking every bit as mischievous as the students.
“I need more practice,” he said.
“I’d say you presented yourself well.” Hattie took him by the arm and turned him to dust him off. A few slaps on his back knocked the white dust off the blue. His britches needed a dusting as well, but that was his problem. She was still smiling when he looked over his shoulder.
“What’s so funny?”
“Seeing you bested by a boy made my day.”
“I’ve got to figure out how to maneuver better. Perhaps if I ordered some skates in a bigger size? These skates don’t distribute a man’s weight properly.”
Hattie pinched his arm before releasing him. “Don’t you dare. The boy deserved to win. He’s a better skater.”
“They worked together to beat me, just like the buffalo hunters,” Jack said. “Not that any of these kids are old enough to remember, but their parents would be proud.”
“After listening to their Christmas practice, it’s good to see them doing something that comes easier,” she said.
“They can sing, believe me. It’s just the language that’s getting in the way. Mrs. Lehrman will have them ready in two weeks.”
In two weeks? Was Christmas coming that fast? Hattie knew she wouldn’t be able to learn an Arapaho or Cheyenne song in that time.
“Now it’s your turn,” Jack said. Hattie could never predict what he’d come up with next, but she was delighted.
The whistle blew, ending the turn for the second round of skaters. Only a handful were left who hadn’t skated already. A few teachers appeared to escort the kids back to the classroom, except for those who had patiently waited their turn. Several students came by to be acknowledged by a wink or smile from Jack before they went back to class. Once the room was mostly empty, Jack fetched two more skates and headed back with them dangling from their straps.
If she ever thought her face could split from a smile, it was fixing to.
“You’re going to make me try it?” she asked.
“You’ve been dying to.” He handed her the skates. “You can’t fool me.”
With a little instruction, Hattie finally got her skates attached to her boots. When they’d first arrived, the room had been cold. It was still cool, and her cheeks felt tight and rosy, but all the activity had warmed the air enough that it was very comfortable.
Hattie reached for a nearby barrel and walked her hands up it until she stood at her full height. With a dozen tiny steps, she turned herself around.
“It’s now or never,” Jack said.
As she released the barrel, the skates took off on her, rolling forward. With a squeal, she grabbed Jack’s hands, but as she tried to straighten, she ended up leaning back farther and farther, and the skates shot forward faster and faster. If it hadn’t been for Jack’s skates getting in the way, she would have landed on her backside.
“Upsy-daisy.” He laughed as he blocked her skates with his own and hauled her upright. “I had no idea you were this clumsy. You aren’t going to blame me if you get hurt, are you?”
“One hundred percent, Jack Hennessey. You will have to pay for every scrape and bruise I get today.” She was so out of breath from laughing, she could barely talk.
“If you’re too chicken—”
“Not on your life.” She kept a strong grip on his forearm with one hand and let go with the other. Then, with one hand outstretched, Hattie inched forward. Jack remained in place, allowing her to work a shuffling circle around him. “The skates are steadier than ice skates,” she said, “but they’re harder to propel.”
“You’re doing beautifully.”
She was prepared to argue, but he spun her around and pulled her into his arms.
“Are you feeling steadier?” he asked.
Not hardly. Hattie clasped his wool uniform, glad for something to hold on to.
“Ready to try a little faster?” he asked. A tint of pink had colored his face. Were she painting him, she would have had trouble finding the right shade.
She took a deep breath and forced a sunny smile. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”
He watched her too intently. If he kept gazing at her like that, people were going to think . . . exactly what he wanted them to think. Hattie pulled out of his grasp. “My goodness, you’re a better actor than I thought. I didn’t realize how far you were willing to go to fool everyone.”
“I challenge your suggestion,” he countered. “I’m being honest, remember?”
Not knowing what to say, Hattie decided to walk away, but it wasn’t that easy. It took about a dozen steps to turn around, but she finally had her back to him and was headed toward the middle of the room to join the skating students. A girl with short black hair and her blouse untucked sped by, cutting close to Hattie. Hattie swerved out of her path, but the sudden movement set her wobbling again. Jack took her arm and slowed his pace to match hers.
“I read a lot of books, you know. I write about other people, study them, always living in other people’s words and in my own words on paper.” He paused as she flailed her arms to get her balance, then continued. “I want to live my own life today, Hattie. I’m not going to waste this time trying to fool anyone. It’s already been amazing. Do I have your permission?”
Permission to drop their act? She was having so much fun. She didn’t want their time to end. Especially now.
“Will you help me back to the wall before you stop acting your role?” she asked.
He raised an eyebrow. “Absolutely not. I’m going to skate with you until neither of us can walk tomorrow.”
Had she misunderstood? He kept her arm as she found her pace. Once her feet really did leave her, but by holding her arm, he was able to keep her from hitting the floor hard. More than a few children laughed along with her.
“I’m never going to be as good as they are,” Hattie said.
“Nothing to do but get up and try again,” Jack said. And true to his word, he hauled her back up.
“Easy for you to say. You’ve already got it figured out.”
“Let’s try something new. I haven’t mastered backward yet.” His tall boots looked odd with the silver skates strapped on the bottom. He spun around in front of her and held out his arms. “May I have this dance?”
Wait. She thought he wasn’t trying to convince anyone of anything today. But she couldn’t deny that the idea sounded splendid . . . and likely to get them both hurt. Gingerly, she lifted her hands to his shoulders. He just as carefully took her waist.
“Are you ready?” he asked. “Here we go.”
He stepped backward, pulling Hattie forward. “We need some music,” she said. A dark-eyed boy skated by, watching curiously.
“Music would distract me.” His hand flexed on her waist. “I have enough distractions as it is. You’re . . . you’re—”
His heel caught on something, but Hattie was still moving. She slammed against him, and it was enough to send them both to the ground.
Jack landed on his back with Hattie on top of him. The look of surprise on his face was priceless. She started giggling and dropped her forehead against his chest. She could find much to admire about her current situation, yet something was wrong. A tough little knot marred the smoothness of his chest and nearly put a crease in her forehead.
She rolled off him, sat up, and asked, “What do you have in your pocket? A rock?”
His mouth tightened as he covered his pocket defensively. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing? Then why don’t you tell me?”
A whistle sounded. Skate time had ended for the last batch of children.
“Better get out of the way,” Jack said as he stood.
The troopers gathered the skates as the students removed them and ran out the door back to the school.
Hattie reached for the buckles on her skates. “That was fun,” she said.
“We’re not done,” Jack said. “Private Willis, I’m taking a detail here to reconnoiter the skating campaign. Can you lead your unit in a general survey of the area until I’m done?”
Willis answered with a sharp salute. “Yes, sir. We’ll escort the children to the school and find something to keep us busy until you complete your mission.”
Hattie’s mouth dropped open, and she pulled on her bare earlobe. “Lieutenant Hennessey, are you abusing your position?”
He grinned, looking more boyish than he ever had at twelve years old. “I can’t have those little kids outmaneuvering me. They’re cocky enough as it is. Now, come on. We can do this.”
Just standing up was comical enough. Hattie was laughing so hard that she had trouble catching her breath. Jack didn’t seem to care that she was still tickled. He took her by the waist and started pulling her as he tried to pick up some speed going backward. With each stride, he lifted a leg and set it behind him awkwardly, like he was walking through thick mud backward.
“I’m afraid to go any faster,” he said.
“Would it help if I did the pushing?” she asked.
“Be my guest.”
Hattie strengthened her grip on his shoulders and took a step. They wobbled as she found her pace, but Jack’s help steadied her.
“If I’d known this was so much fun,” he said, “I wouldn’t let the kids do it anymore. I’d just bring you here every day.”
Hattie lifted her head. “Shame on you, Jack. No one can hear you now, so you don’t need to talk like that.”
“Hattie.” He moved his hands higher on her waist. “Don’t correct me again.”
She looked up, and what she saw surprised her. Jack was looking at her with more than just the warm, friendly gaze he’d shared since leaving the house. There was a possessiveness in his eyes that sent a jolt through her. With a tug on his shoulder, she rolled closer into his arms. She had to admit, they were having fun. At the moment, skating with Jack was what she wanted, too.
Besides crates, barrels, and sacks, the room was empty. Hattie’s attention moved to avoiding Jack’s feet as she helped propel them around the room. One step too far was all it took.
Her foot brushed against the side of Jack’s skate. The wheels on his skate stopped spinning, and once again he pitched backward. This time he thought to let go of Hattie before dragging her down with him, but it didn’t matter much. She still ended up tumbling on top of him.
“You’re going to be flatter than a pancake,” she said. She flopped to her back and crawdad-crawled a decent distance away. “You hit the floor hard again, and you don’t have the padding I do.”
Jack rose on his elbow. “Mrs. Hennessey, I find your statement shocking.”
She cackled. “I’m talking about my skirts. My skirts and petticoats compared to your trousers, you cad.”
“Oh.” He smiled wickedly as he stood. “You had me confused.” He pulled her up and took her by the waist.
“Again?” she asked.
“I’m determined.” Focusing on the far wall, he said, “But this time you’re going to go backward. It might be easier.” Without waiting for her answer, he pushed off, and they were moving again.
She was running blind. Nothing to look at besides him. “Are you sure? I can barely stand up.”
“All you have to do is hold on to me,” he said. “Don’t move your feet and let me lead.”
They certainly were picking up speed. Where before Hattie had felt responsible for directing them, now she only had to hold on to Jack and feel the seams of the floor vibrating beneath her feet. But that wasn’t all she was feeling. Her pulse raced. Her skin chilled as the air blew against her damp neck. Who knew skating was so much work? Who knew skating could be so intimate?
Jack had been right. Letting him do all the work was proving to be their best attempt yet. In fact, they were so successful that Hattie began to worry. “We’re going so fast,” she said.
“And we can go faster.”
“But should we?” The crates that lined the room passed by in a blur.
He looked more than a little reckless. “We can do this. Just one more turn, and we’ve set a new record.”
He was trying to turn her. Hattie could feel added pressure to the outside of her left skate. Jack leaned that way, his right hand bearing down against her waist like she was the tiller on a ship. She should probably lean to take the turn, but she didn’t trust her balance. And the speed Jack was going—
“Don’t think about it, Hattie. Just let it come. Trust yourself.”
“I’m trying,” she said as she closed her eyes. “I’m trying.”
“That’s right. I’ve got you. Just hold—”
But once again, his skate bumped into hers. One of her feet left the ground. Jack flew forward. He tried to get an arm beneath her to cushion her fall, but it did little to help. Hattie landed flat on her back with Jack sprawled over her.
She lay there with no air at all. Slowly her lungs expanded, and she surprised herself with a throaty chuckle.
Jack was holding most of his weight off her with his arms braced on both sides. His dark eyes searched hers intently. “Are you all right?”
Her blood still pulsing, her hair awry, and her nerves tingling—she’d never felt better. And there was Jack, so close that she could see his pulse bouncing just below his jaw. If it hadn’t been good old Jack, she might mistake this breathless feeling for attraction. But it couldn’t be that. Besides, he didn’t know the first thing about girls.
Or did he?
She was fixing to find out, because the impossible was happening.
Jack leaned down. His breath was sweet, his eyes captivating. What would it be like to be kissed by the handsome officer? His scent was the same as the coat she’d slept with last night, but to her mind, he was someone new, exciting, and strange. No dusty scholar could make her heart run out of control like this.
Placing his weight on one arm, he searched her face. “You never answered me,” he said. “Are you all right?”
All the awkwardness over misunderstood ceremonies and childhood regrets had vanished, leaving two people with infinite respect for one another lying in each other’s arms. Her eyes were drawn to his sensitive lips as she wondered what they were capable of.
“I feel dizzy,” she said.
He paused, so close as he considered his options. For Pete’s sake, why couldn’t Jack ever do anything spontaneous? Her heart sank as he rolled away, then took her hand and helped her sit up.
She dusted off her hands while trying to shake away the tingly feeling that had gone unresolved. She knew what would come next—the apology for playing with fire, for imposing on her, because cautious Jack would never have allowed himself the familiarity they’d shared.
Instead he asked, “Did you hit your head?”
“What?” The air between them was cooler than she remembered. It made her skin prickle all the more.
“When you fell. Dizziness and memory loss are symptoms of a concussion. We were skating and we fell. If you can’t remember that . . .”
Hattie rolled her eyes. After that moment, the looks they’d exchanged, he was worried about her medical condition? She crooked her knees and began to unfasten her skates.
“I’m not injured, if that’s what you’re asking.” Honestly! Why did he take everything so literally?
“That’s good.” Silence filled the room like a steam boiler about to blow, but Jack seemed unaffected. “We made it all the way around the room,” he said. “See, if you set your mind to something, it’s surprising what you can accomplish.” Finally, free of his skates, he gathered all four of them and offered her his hand.
Hattie hesitated before taking it to stand. “We beat a record?” she mocked. Unbelievable. Was he made of stone? “Congratulations to us, then.” No wonder it had never worked out between them. He wasn’t the man for her.
Jack studied her with that inscrutable expression. Then, with a swing of his arm, he gestured toward the door.
He might be book smart, but when it came to women, Jack Hennessey was flunking his exam.