by Kit Morgan
“Tell me about your cousins,” she said to change the subject. She didn’t want to become depressed on her wedding day if she could help it. She was still getting used to the idea that she was married.
“Ah yes, my dear cousins. Hmmm, which ones? There are several sets to choose from.”
“Any, we’re almost at the church. Who lived closest to you?”
“Let me see, I suppose that would be my Uncle August and Aunt Penelope. He’s from America, she’s from England, in case you were wondering. Beginning to see a pattern?”
“I am,” she conceded.
“I thought so. See, I’m getting to know you already. She’s one of my mother’s two sisters.”
“And the other one?”
“That would be my Aunt Constance. Now there’s someone you should meet – or at least write to now then.”
“Why is that?” she asked as they reached the Nortons’ front door.
“Because like you, she was from a well-to-do household before she came to America to marry. And, like you, it was to a man trying his best to get a horse ranch going, more than two hours from the nearest town.”
Zadie tried not to groan. “You’re right. She and I do have a few things in common.”
“Remind me to purchase ink and paper tomorrow before we leave. I have a feeling you’re going to be doing a lot of letter-writing in the near future.”
Zadie sighed. “I have a feeling you’re right.”
Anson stiffened next to her, then knocked on the door.
Six
They returned the basket and headed back to the hotel. On the way Anson told her more about his British aunts, uncles and numerous cousins. She finally gave up trying to remember all their names – there were just too many of them.
In short, some distant cousins by the name of Sayer (or was it Cooke?) came to America from England to go West and start a cattle ranch. Unfortunately, the father died in some sort of accident, leaving behind a widow and three sons. The woman married again quickly – for survival, mostly – and finished the journey with her new husband and his two sons. They settled in Clear Creek when it was just a speck of a town, and through a series of fantastic events became the cattle ranchers the family had originally dreamed of – and successful beyond their wildest expectations.
By the time Anson was done with the basics, they’d reached the hotel. “And that’s how my second cousin Harrison met his wife Sadie. I hope I don’t call you that by accident – your names are so close.”
Zadie smiled. “My father picked it out. I’m an only child and my name was all the rage when I was born. He loved it.”
“It’s a pretty name. I like it too,” he said, his voice softening. She noticed his accent became more pronounced when it did.
She also noticed the tiny chill the sound of it sent up her spine. “We’d best go inside. It’s … getting cold.”
“Is it? I’m rather warm myself.”
Zadie looked at him. His eyes had darkened and roamed her face. Good heavens, was he going to kiss her again? She pulled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. “I’m not.”
He smiled tenderly. “Then we’d best get you inside.” He opened the door of the hotel, ushered her in and led her up to their room. Once they were behind closed doors, he lit a lantern, set it on the dresser, then eyed the bed.
Oh no! Zadie thought in a panic. He’s thinking about that!
“I realize it’s our wedding night …”
Oh no, no, no! I can’t, I’m not ready!
“… but all things considered, I’d rather wait until we get home to … consummate the marriage. If you don’t mind …”
“Oh thank God,” she whispered in obvious relief.
Both his eyebrows rose. “That bad, eh?”
She shot him a look of angst. “No, of course not, I mean … yes … but no …”
He began to chuckle. “You’re entitled to get to know me a little first. I hear it helps.”
“It … it does? You did?”
His shoulders shook with mirth. “Yes, dear wife. You’ll be safe from me tonight. I think we’ll both know when it’s time.”
She stared at him like a stupefied child. “You really mean it, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“But I thought … that …”
“What, that I’d ravish you the moment I brought you upstairs? Perish the thought – I’m a gentleman! And I grew up in a community full of British gentlemen to boot. Besides, we’ve both had too long a day.”
Her shoulders slumped. “That we have.”
“Then I’ll bid you good night,” he said and went to the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Well, I can’t very well sleep with you. Is it safe to assume that would make you uncomfortable?”
“Yes, very safe,” she said nervously, then glanced at the floor. “But where will you sleep?”
He gave her that tender smile, and she was quickly learning what it meant. “I took the liberty of getting my own room for the night. Mr. Livingston thought it rather odd at first, but then understood when I told him you fainted during our wedding.”
“You told him about that? And I didn’t faint … quite.”
“Close enough.” He crossed the room to where she stood, tucked a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his. “Good night, wife.” Before she could say anything, he kissed her. It sent her heart reeling. A delicious heat encompassed her, one she’d never felt before, and she sucked in a delicate breath as he broke the kiss. She gazed up at him, her mouth still open.
Anson smiled. “Sleep well,” he whispered. He cupped her face with his hand, took one last look at her and left the room.
Zadie stared after him. If that was how the man said good night, then what was that going to be like? She gulped, then got ready for bed.
* * *
The next day, Zadie awoke more refreshed and rested than she thought she’d be. Maybe it was because she’d been spared her wedding night, or maybe because she hadn’t been abandoned by the man she now called husband. Either way, she was glad she’d slept well. Especially now that she found herself staring at Anson’s big black horse Hamlet. “You named your horse after a play?”
“A character in a play, at least. I usually name horses after characters from Shakespeare – including my stud horse, Julius Caesar.”
“Julius Caesar?” she marveled and continued to stare at Hamlet. She had to admit that he was beautiful – she’d never seen a horse quite like him. “Is he one your father bred?”
“No, I bought him from a man in Kentucky not quite a year ago.”
“Kentucky? So far away?”
“The horse world knows no distance. Or in this case, no undiscovered train stations near stockyards.”
“Oh yes, of course.” Horses and other livestock, especially cattle, were often transported across the country by train. How else could he bring his stock here so quickly?
“He’s very gentle, and you’ll love the way he moves.”
“I hope so. I’ve not been on a horse since I was a little girl.”
Anson smiled. “Then it’s about time you were.”
“What about my trunks?” she suddenly asked in a panic. “I forgot all about them!”
“Not to worry – Rev. Norton mentioned you had a couple. El Davis will bring them the next time he delivers the mail to Morgan’s Crossing.”
“But how will you get them home? You don’t have a wagon yet.”
“Something I plan to remedy as soon as possible. In the meantime, I paid him to bring them to our place.”
She sighed in relief. “Thank you. I didn’t think of them until now.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a gentle smile. “You needn’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”
Zadie’s throat tightened. He was being sincere, and she realized how much those words meant to her. “Thank you again.”
His smile broadened and he
motioned to Hamlet. “Up you go.” Anson helped her mount, then swung up onto the horse behind her. Two strong arms came around her to take the reins and she felt something inside of her grow warm.
Mr. Livingston handed up her satchel. “You sure you don’t want to rent a …”
“I’m sure,” Anson interrupted. “We’ll be fine on Hamlet. He can bear us both easily.”
The hotel owner shrugged. “Suit yourselves.”
“What was he talking about?” Zadie asked as he got Hamlet moving.
“He thought we might rent a buggy for our journey, but Hamlet’s a saddle horse. I haven’t trained him to pull a wagon. Trust me, it’s much safer this way.”
And cozy too, Zadie thought to herself. The way he had her positioned between his arms made her feel safe and secure. Although she had to admit she’d be glad once they were out of town – people were staring. And for obvious reasons – she was sitting astride Anson’s horse in her blue day dress, showing more than the usual amount of stocking.
Perhaps she should have put up a fuss when Anson insisted she ride in such a way, but everything Anson said made sense. There was no need to rent a conveyance from the livery when they had a perfectly good horse that could carry them both.
Hamlet set his own pace at a fast walk for most of the morning, and Zadie was indeed surprised by his wonderfully smooth gait. “He really is a dream to ride,” she told Anson.
“Yes, he is. It’s one of the reasons I bought him. I think this is nicer than having to sit on a hard wagon seat for hours on end, don’t you?”
“Whether by wagon or horse, I do believe my backside will suffer in the end.” Then she realized what she’d said – oh my! That was rather forward – would he be offended?
But Anson just laughed. “Only because you’re not used to riding. Hamlet will be a good horse for you to learn on. He’s gentle enough and smart too.”
“I’ll be the judge of that, especially after this trip. It might be a while before Hamlet and I spend time together.”
“Not so. If you’re going to learn to ride him, then you can learn how to take care of him too. After all, the wife of a prominent horse breeder needs to learn how to handle our stock and trade.”
“I thought you only sold horses, I keep forgetting that you breed them too,” she said, then laughed. “Of course when you told me in your letters that you were a rancher, I thought that meant cows.”
Anson laughed again. “Julius Caesar is my stud horse, and yes, I brought stock to sell. We’ll see how things go.” He took a deep breath. “I do like it here,” he sighed. “It’s wild and rugged. Unspoiled.”
She peered at the mountains in the distance. “What will the winter bring?” she asked a little nervously.
“I can’t say. It’s still quite a way off. We’ll need to have everything ready before then, though.”
She turned her head and peeked over her shoulder at him. “What sorts of things?”
“I’d like to add onto the cabin, for one. Then there are fences to mend and the corrals have seen better days.”
“Is there a barn?”
“Of course there’s a barn – I wouldn’t have purchased the place without one. But it’s small. Eventually we’ll have to build a new one.”
Zadie thought a moment. A picture of a dilapidated old shack with a leaky roof popped into her head. No furniture but a single cot and a sorry excuse for a stove. She shuddered at the thought.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“No, I was just thinking about your cabin and if I should prepare myself.”
“For what?” he asked with a chuckle.
“For the worst.”
This time Anson laughed so loud it caused an echo. Even Hamlet’s ears flicked back at the sound.
“It’s not funny. You must remember, I’ve never lived in the country before.”
He brought his laughter under control. “True, you haven’t. Maybe you had better prepare yourself.”
Zadie’s chest burned with disappointment. Perhaps what she’d envisioned in her mind’s eye was exactly what awaited her. He’d made mention of his cabin the day before, but she’d been so flustered by their wedding, she wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. Perhaps she should steer the conversation to more pleasant things. “Where will we spend the night?” she asked then swore she felt him smiling behind her.
“There are several places along the way – a series of old cabins travelers can use. If we’re lucky, one of them will be empty. But since the roads have been dry, more folks will be traveling them. We might have to camp out on the prairie.”
“What?” Zadie said in shock. “Camp out?”
“We’ll be fine,” he reassured and pulled her against his chest. He lowered his face to her ear. “You’ll be safe with me.”
A shiver ran up her spine, but not of cold. “Are there … wild animals on the prairie?”
“A few, but nothing that will bother us. There’s no need to worry about it until the time comes. For now let’s enjoy the ride. Why don’t you tell me about Denver?”
Zadie allowed herself to continue leaning against him in the saddle, enjoying the warmth of his chest and arms. She began to tell him about Denver, her ailing father, the loss of his job in Boston that took them to Colorado in the first place, her dwindling social life as a result of caring for him for so long. Lastly, she spoke of his death and burial. It wasn’t a pretty tale, and when she was done she felt sad.
“You’ll not suffer any of those things again, I’ll see to that.”
“Does that mean you’re going to repair my social life?” she teased, if only to make herself feel better.
“You’ll have to build one. Remember, I haven’t got one either. But we’ll get to know the folks in Morgan’s Crossing and some of the surrounding ranches. I know you’re going to want some female company now and then.”
“In that you’re correct, Mr. Jones,” she admitted, trying to keep the terseness out of her voice. Reality was setting in. She was going to be alone with this man for days on end with no one else to talk to. Thank Heaven he was a good conversationalist and they were getting along well. At least they’d get to know one another. What choice did they have if there was no one else around? Yet.
She hoped they didn’t become bored with each other. Could two people in love get bored with the other person? She fought against a sigh. One would think a couple in love could never be bored simply because they were in love. But she and her new husband weren’t, as yet. Who knew how long it would take for that to happen?
* * *
Nightfall slowly crept up on them, and Zadie began to worry. Thoughts of wolves and other beasts slipped into her mind and made her heart race.
Somehow, Anson picked up on it. “Are you all right?” he asked softly behind her.
“Yes – just a little nervous, I guess. You’re not planning to ride in the dark, are you?”
“No. Look up ahead.”
Zadie peered through the growing darkness and saw a faint shape in the distance. “Is that where we’re going to spend the night?”
“If it’s not occupied. If it is, maybe they’ll share.”
“Share? How many beds are in one of those?”
“Only one, I’m afraid. But if it’s a husband and wife, the gentleman and I can sleep outside or on the floor while you and his missus take the bed.”
Zadie fought against a groan. The thought of being crammed together of a cot or pallet with a strange woman was going to make for a long night. Then again, she wouldn’t have to worry about performing any wifely duties for her new husband, even if she was growing curious about such things.
By the time they reached the cabin, all the daylight was gone. Both of them glanced around. No other horses were nearby that they could tell. Anson dismounted, then helped Zadie down. “Stay here,” he ordered, walked to the cabin and knocked on the door. After a few moments he went inside, then came out. “It’s empty. Come.”
Za
die, her satchel still clutched in her hands, did as he said and entered the small structure. Anson lit a lantern and she gasped. The place looked very much like what her imagination had conjured up about Anson’s house. There was a single cot and not even a potbellied stove, just a stone fireplace. Someone had been kind enough to leave it with enough kindling to start a fire.
“Stay here,” Anson said. “I’ll go take care of Hamlet.” Before she could reply, he left.
She took a deep breath and glanced at her surroundings. What if Anson’s cabin wasn’t much better? For all she knew she wouldn’t even have the means to make curtains, not that she’d be able – she’d never sewn a thing in her life. All she could do was embroider. Thankfully, Anson hadn’t seemed to mind that she was so lacking in the domestic arts.
Perhaps he planned to teach her. The thought made her realize that she’d married a very kind and generous man. Her father would be pleased with her choice – not that she’d really had one. When she went to visit Mrs. Pettigrew’s office, Anson’s was the only candidate for a husband under the age of forty-five. Perhaps the good Lord had seen to that, and this was His way of bringing them together.
Zadie set the satchel on the cot and wondered if she should attempt to start a fire, something else she’d never done before. Maybe she’d better wait for Anson to show her. With her luck, she’d burn the whole place down and set the prairie grasses aflame. Then the fire would spread to Morgan’s Crossing and the entire town would go up in smoke!
“Oh for Heaven’s sake, don’t be ridiculous!” she said and rolled her eyes. But was she? How long would it take her to learn what she needed to survive this wilderness? During her journey from Denver to Sweetwater Springs, she’d romanticized living on a ranch with her new husband. Now, things weren’t looking so romantic.
Seven
Anson unsaddled Hamlet and put him in the makeshift shelter behind the cabin, gave him a ration of grain he’d brought, then hauled his saddle and other tack back to the tiny lodging. It didn’t look like it was going to rain, but it was spring and the weather at this time of year was unpredictable, even more so than in Oregon.
