Forever by Your Side (Willamette Brides #3) - Tracie Peterson Page 0,7
gave her an abbreviated bow. “Would you do me the honor, Miss Browning, of the next dance?”
Desperate to be away from the women without causing offense, Connie nodded. Mr. Berryton led her to the dance floor, and they were soon waltzing with the others.
“I hope you aren’t sorry for your new position. Now that you can see what you’ll be missing, I feared you might want to change your mind,” he said, watching her as though he might be called upon to dry her tears.
“Not at all, Mr. Berryton. I’m quite delighted with my decision and your hiring me. I can hardly wait to head home.”
“I suppose the fact that it is home makes all the difference.” He moved her gracefully around the room, much to her surprise. If there was one thing men were required to do in Washington, it was dance, and Mr. Berryton had not disappointed.
When the waltz concluded, he led her back to where he had found her. “I’m glad you don’t regret your decision. I would be hard-pressed to fight against a woman’s tears should you have come to me begging off.”
“I honor my commitments, Mr. Berryton, so you needn’t fear. I have been gathering my city clothes and am prepared to pack them away or sell them for more appropriate fashions. I have secured my books and other niceties to leave with my aunt and uncle until I might send for them. All in all, I am nearly ready to step onto the train that will take me to Oregon.”
“Very good.” He seemed relieved and used the handkerchief he’d held against her back as they danced to dab at his lips. “I hope you continue to enjoy the evening. I’d best go in search of Mrs. Berryton.”
“Good night, then, and thank you once again for giving me a chance.”
He gave another abbreviated bow and departed while Connie searched the room for Tom.
“Miss Browning,” a voice said behind her. Connie turned to find Mr. Lynden, a particularly hopeful would-be suitor. “I wondered if I might have this dance.”
She saw they were forming up for the Virginia reel. “Of course, Mr. Lynden.” Hopefully, with the moves of the dance, she wouldn’t have to spend much time in conversation.
“I heard a horrible rumor,” he said, leading her to the dance floor.
“Oh, really? Pray, what did you hear?”
“That you’re leaving Washington and going to live with the Indians.” He looked completely aghast.
“That’s no rumor, Mr. Lynden. I am leaving Washington to take on my duties for the Bureau of Ethnology. American politicians and intellectuals have decided that it is important to catalog and maintain an accurate history of the various Native tribes of this great country. You do realize, don’t you, that many tribes are already extinct?”
“I didn’t.” He paused as if considering this fact. “However, that’s no place for a delicate young woman such as yourself. I can hardly approve.”
She might have laughed out loud had there not been so many other people in the room. The music began, and she curtseyed while Lynden bowed. They didn’t continue the conversation until the dance concluded, and by then Connie was more than ready to go home. She gave a quick glance around the room, but there was no sign of Tom.
“Miss Browning, surely you understand the dangers involved in dealing with Indians. It’s said that they not only scalp white settlers when given the chance, but that they do other . . . distasteful things. You really shouldn’t go. It’s not at all appropriate.”
Connie gave him a fixed look and fought to hold her temper. “Mr. Lynden, I would be going there whether I had a job or not. My parents live there. I grew up on a reservation, and I assure you that no one was scalped or given to eating human flesh or dissecting bodies to keep the dead from entering the spirit world.” She saw him blanch and smiled. “Yes, I’ve heard all the horrible rumors. My suggestion is that you should come experience the reservation rather than cast judgment on it and the people there.”
She left him looking as if he might lose his supper. It was more than a little annoying that people were so prejudiced in their thinking. She knew her circle of girlfriends was no different. No one understood her desire to return to the reservation and renew friendships with the Native people. It was one thing, they had said, to be a child befriending another child, but for an adult