“Harjo,” Maria said, her tone chastising. “It is not your business when he tells his wife something. No matter how important it may be.”
Harjo’s lips twitched.
Josiah dropped his head into his hands with a groan. “All right. I was told before coming here I would have a church. However, when I arrived I was informed there were no openings and there wouldn’t be. The Tribal police positions are few and filled, so those are out, and the women are the ones who farm, so anything agricultural is out.” He met Mia’s worried gaze. “I even asked about teaching jobs, but there aren’t any open schools around. The only open position was just filled last month for next year.”
“Definitely worrisome,” Mia agreed.
“Josiah, what about the dream you told us about?” Maria asked, dipping a piece of bread into the stew before taking a bite.
“There is a rancher I know in Muskogee who has a few head he will sell at a reasonable price. You said you didn’t want a lot of cattle and wanted to concentrate more on horses. This is the perfect time,” Harjo said, filling his bowl with more stew.
As a boy, Josiah had dreamed of following in his father’s footsteps as a rancher. Since the first time he’d watched a foal being born, he had wanted to breed horses. But when his parents were murdered, he felt as if that dream died with them.
His focus shifted to bringing their killer, or killers to justice, and the man who’d done that was his older cousin, Clay, a Choctaw lighthorseman. Josiah remembered watching all Clay had done to find the Kiowa responsible for his parents’ death and had wondered if he’d ever have the chance to become a lawman like Clay.
The opportunity had never been presented so, instead, Josiah had chosen to study God’s word and serve in the church.
Mia laid her hand on his arm, bringing him back to the present. The warmth seeped from her palm into his skin, soothing. Clarifying. He raised his gaze to hers.
“Is raising horses really your dream?”
“My father bred horses. It was all I ever wanted to do until they were killed.”
She squeezed his arm. “Then that’s what we’ll do. We will raise horses.”
Chapter 5
The following morning Josiah stretched, the bed warm and cozy as the cool, morning breeze drifted through the room. He lay there with his eyes closed, not caring what time it was, nor about the day’s chores patiently waiting for him the moment he rose.
He pulled in a deep breath, smelling the sweet scent of lilac from the large bush growing by the porch that filled the room. Overriding even that, though, was the delicious scent of fresh-made coffee. He smiled and threw the covers off.
Quickly dressing, he tugged on his boots and after making a quick trip to the bathroom, he made a beeline to the stove where the coffeepot waited. He poured himself a cup of the steaming coffee and took a sip. “Definitely worth getting married for,” he said to the empty room and leaned against the counter and drank half the cup, all but relishing the burn.
While he tried, his coffee always turned to black sludge, so he rarely drank the brew. He glanced at the table with a quick frown. Two plates had been placed facing one another with the eating utensils on either side of them. Mia had even set napkins in the center of each plate. Not that he was likely to remember to use his. The back of his hand did just as well.
He twisted, glancing at the counter behind him and noticed the empty bowl and spoon lying beside it. The bags of sugar and flour Maria had given them last night to tide them over until they could make the trip to the mercantile were still tied and sitting by the bowl.
Tilting his head, he glanced out the small kitchen window but couldn’t see anyone, so he decided to check outside. The sky was a clear blue, not a cloud in sight, and unlike most days, the breeze was light and playful. If the weather held, the day would be beautiful. Maybe Mia had decided to drink her coffee on one of the side porches? He couldn’t blame her if she had. With the amazing view and perfect weather, he would, too.
He walked around to the side porch, expecting to see her but the chairs were empty. Worry churned in his stomach. Where would she go? There wasn’t any place around here she hadn’t seen already. He walked to the small barn, making note of how much wood he’d have to cut and plane to expand if he did decide to breed horses. Not to mention add a few cows and a steer or two.
While he liked the idea, he wasn’t really prepared. He had the money, which he’d left in Clay’s care. All he would have to do would be to send him a telegraph from the train station, and the next time Clay went to town, he’d get the message. Although, knowing the Woodward station master, he’d send someone out to the farm with it so Clay would get it immediately. Clay and Sophia, along with his sister Megan and her husband, Bryan, were well-liked in the area. Josiah was thankful he had such a good family.
If he were serious about the horse breeding, he would also need to send a telegraph to Fort Scott and let his friend Paul Daniels know he wanted to buy several of the Comanche-bred horses from his and his wife Anna’s private herd. Comanches were known worldwide for their horse skills as well as their ability to breed the best stock, and if he was going to do this, he wanted to start with the best. Comanche-bred horses, in his opinion, were the best.
Several years ago, Paul had offered to let him purchase a few head to get him started and said the offer would always be there when Josiah was ready. He’d stubbornly refused, thinking he would always remain a Methodist preacher. He shook his head, watching a covey of quail scurry around the base of an old oak as they pecked along the ground for seeds or small insects. He knew better than anyone how quickly life could change. In the blink of an eye, he’d lost his parents and his home: he’d lost everything.
Turning, he went inside and refilled his cup, the silence of the house increasing inside his head along with the worry about his wife. A creaking sound came from upstairs, then he heard muffled laughter. A slow grin spread across his face. He quietly moved up the stairs, following the soft cadence of Mia’s voice and stopped in the doorway of Billy’s new bedroom.
Inside, he found Mia curled up in bed with Billy reading a book. The boy’s black hair stuck up in all directions as if he’d just awakened, but his eyes were alight with joy as he listened to the story.
His wife’s voice lulled him into the plot as the young character, Tom Sawyer, repeatedly got into trouble, and Josiah found himself reliving his own childhood antics while enjoying Billy’s infectious laughter that filled the room.
“That’s enough for today, my young man,” Mia said. “We’re going to have to wait until tomorrow morning to find out what happens to Tom next.”
Billy’s eyes widened in horror. “Awww! Do we? The story was just getting really good.”
“I bet, if you mind your manners and do everything Mia asks of you today, she might read a bit more tonight before bedtime,” Josiah said with a smile.