Lone Star Loving by Martha Hix Read Free Book Online Page A

don’t know anything, triplet.” Margaret popped a piece of popcorn into her mouth.
    â€œThank the Lord, Indian days are coming t’ an end,” Maisie commented, lowering her cup. “Ye may be fond of those Osage people, Lisette, but I’m thinking no Indian is t’ be trusted.”
    â€œYou’ve been listening to too many of Gil’s stories of the old days,” Lisette replied. “This is 1876. Times are changing.”
    â€œLass, how can ye be forgetting your own sister died at Comanche hands?”
    â€œThat was a long time ago. Indians will no longer be a menace, once the government has finished relocating them to reservations.”
    â€œWas Cactus Blossom a menace?” Olga asked.
    Three sets of girlish eyes waited for Lisette’s reply, but Charity was the one to speak. “Let’s don’t talk about her.”
    It made her mother cry, mention of her dead friend. Charity didn’t like it when her mother cried. Always, she wanted to put her arms around Mutti’s shoulders, but each time she balked. Everyone would think her silly. “Let’s talk about what Saint Nicholas is going to bring us.”
    â€œYou won’t get anything,” Margaret pointed out. “You haven’t been good.”
    Hurt, and afraid her sister spoke the truth, Charity picked up Angus’s rubber ball and threw it at her sister’s smug face.
    â€œCharity!” At the same moment the ball missed its mark, Lisette wagged a finger. “That is more than enough. If you don’t behave, you’re going straight to bed.”
    Withdrawing into the safe world of her fancies, Charity turned back to her puzzle, trying to fit Illinois into the United States map . . . and she wondered about Fierce Hawk. Did he really mean to marry one of the triplets? She hoped he’d pick her.
    â€œI doona like eggnog.” Maisie stopped rocking and set her cup aside. “How aboot a cup of cocoa?”
    â€œI’ll fix it.” When Charity jumped to stand, a loud crash and splintering of glass accompanied her.
    Margaret gasped. “Look, triplet, you broke the popcorn bowl!”
    The crystal dish had belonged to Mutti’s mother, and had been hand-carried all the way from the old country, from the hamlet of Dillenburg in the province of Nassau-Hesse. From the look on Mutti’s face, Charity knew she had committed a grievous wrong. Why couldn’t she do anything right?
    â€œSit down, Charity. Cook will get the cocoa.” Lisette bent to gather the shards; her voice held exasperation. “Why can you never be still?”
    â€œSuch a prize oughta be kept outta a bairn’s reach. And ye should be recalling she is a sweet lass. Headstrong, I’ll be granting, but . . .”
    â€œYou’ve made Mutti cry,” Olga informed her sister.
    Defeated at last, the hapless triplet tucked her chin on her chest and uttered in a small voice, “I’m sorry.”
    Charity rushed toward the staircase leading to the sleeping wing. Halfway up the stairs she heard Maisie say something in her defense. Maiz is never mean, at least to me.
    In fact, she was usually a partner in warming milk for Dutch chocolate. It was even better when the Keller boys were staying over, since the cousins liked cocoa almost as much as Charity did. Cousin Karl, though, had a way of scaring her. He teased her about Easter fires that kept Comanches away from the area. Charity wished Karl wouldn’t scare her like that.
    She also wished that Fierce Hawk would make a grand entrance some night, with all the glory of Saint Nicholas. Fierce Hawk would stroll past the better of the McLoughlin girls, and he would stop in front of Charity. “You’re the one I choose,” he would say.
    Olga and Margaret would beg for his attention. He wouldn’t be swayed. He’d laugh at the others. Fierce Hawk wouldn’t shout at Charity. He’d think she was as pretty