by Danni Roan
Across the street, where another road came in from the south she could see the Grist Mill restaurant. Several people were hurrying out its double doors clutching small bags of pastries and Mary Ellen was sure that they must be travelers from the newly arrived train.
Turning she looked down the street toward the general store noting a wagon parked outside.
Turning to her left Mary Ellen decided to move on down the street wondering what more she would find past the train depot.
The morning sun was fresh on her face as she meandered along the board walk until it ended then travelled the dusty track past the train station and around the turn to where a large building stood, its wide doors open, beneath a sign that read Livery Stable.
Smiling Mary Ellen hurried to the entrance and called into the depths of the cavernous structure.
“Hello,” she called inhaling the smells of horse, hay, and harness. “Is anyone here?”
“Mornin’” a grizzled old man with a wealth of chin whiskers greeted stepping from a little room at the front of the building with a snap of suspender ribbons. “How can I he’p ya?”
Mary Ellen blushed slightly. What had she been thinking? She hadn’t been around horses since she was a little girl, and her father would toss her up on his plow horse on the way in from the fields.
“I don’t really know,” she confessed. “I’d like to see the area around the town, but I confess I’m not accustomed to handling a horse on my own.”
“Do ya have kin in the area?” the man asked stroking the goat like hair at the bottom of his chin.
“No, I’m afraid I don’t.”
“Well I can’t drive ya no where’s cause I’m busy here at the livery, but I could maybe show you how to manage a horse if you’re of a mind to learn. I’m Byron by the way and this here is my place.”
“Pleased to meet you Mr. Byron,” Mary Ellen offered. “I’m…”
“No, ain’t no mister to it now lady,” the old man groused cutting her off. “Just plain Byron.”
Mary Ellen smiled. “I’m pleased to meet you Byron. I’m Miss Bigsby and I’ll take you up on your offer. I do enjoy learning new things.”
Byron grinned, his bright eyes twinkling. For a little thing the woman was scrappy. “Now let me see,” he said heading into the barn and motioning for her to follow. “I ain’t got no ponies, I mean small ones anyhow.” The old holster mused. “Prob’bly just as well though, since they can be meaner a bear with a sore tooth. Folks always think little horses is sweet, but they get unruly ya see.”
Mary Ellen didn’t see at all but still nodded as they made their way along a row of stalls.
“This here is Martin, and he’s a nice fella but a little fast maybe. Then there’s Dom, but he’s mighty big, and if you got down I’m not sure you’d be able to get back up.”
Mary Ellen walked along in the old man’s wake looking into each stall and nodding with his assessment.
“I know,” Byron said his bushy brows rising. “I know just the horse.” He turned hurrying to the other side of the barn and Mary Ellen lifted her skirts as she tried to keep up.
“This here is Miss Betsy,” he said with a grin as a gray mare lifted her head, wisps of hay sticking out from her mouth. “Miss Betsy’s gettin’ a little long in the tooth, but she’s got a sweet nature and a willin’ disposition.”
Mary Ellen stepped up to the stall and patted the horse. The animal seemed friendly enough, and if the old man seemed confident, she was willing to try.
“What do we do next?” she asked squaring her shoulders and pushing away the flutter of fear in her belly. Today she was going to learn to ride a horse.
***
“No, no, no,” Mary Ellen scolded as Miss Betsy meandered toward another patch of dried grass. “We’re supposed to be going this way,” the woman said tugging on the reins uselessly.
The ride had started out very well with the horse ambling along the road out of town that led past the eatery. Mary Ellen had felt quite accomplished as she guided the mare down the road toward open prairie and barren woods.
Unfortunately once they left behind the neat houses and shops that made up Biders Clump the horse seemed to have lost its purpose and now simply wandered from one clump of grass to the next.
Thinking through what Byron had taught her Mary Ellen once more pulled back on the reins to raise the horses head but the animal didn’t seem to even notice.
She then tried kicking the horse’s sides which only made the mare move to yet another clump of dried grass half buried in a mound of snow.
“Oh please get back onto the road,” Mary Ellen said giving the reins a hard jerk and almost toppling backward when the horse lifted her head.
Righting herself Mary Ellen pulled the reins tight and tugged the horse back toward the road only a few yards away, laughing when the animal’s feet touched the hard packed road.
“Now isn’t that better?” the petite woman asked, guiding the horse along the path as she gazed up at the jagged peaks of the mountains.
This area of the road and landscape was a little different than what she’d seen in town, or even on her drive to the Rocking A ranch. The road beneath her was becoming progressively pinker with each step Miss Betsy took.
“What a beautiful color,” she mused wondering why this road looked different. As her mind wandered to the question the old gray mare meandered toward the side of the road once more.
***
“Bruno who’s that?” Janine Sparak looked across the prairie at the woman letting her horse graze along the side of the road.
“I don’t know,” Bruno said slowing the buggy as they approached. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her before.”
“Hello,” Janine called waving as they drew near. “Are you lost?”
“Oh, thank heavens,” the woman called back. “No I’m not lost, but I can’t seem to get this horse to go where I want it to go. Every time I see something interesting along the way, the next thing I know she’s in the grass eating again.”
Bruno smiled pulling his horse to a stop and climbing down from the rig as Janine took the reins. “I find that if my mind starts to wander the stock often does as well,” he offered kindly.
Mary Ellen blushed and tugged on the reins again but the horse kept right on chomping at the long stems of buffalo grass.
“I’m Bruno and this is Janine,” the young man said approaching and taking hold of the horse’s bridle. “Were you going anywhere in particular?”
Mary Ellen shook her head as Bruno led Miss Betsy back to the road. “No, I just wanted to get out and see the area,” she confessed. “I’m Mary Ellen Bigsby, and I’m very glad to see you.”
“Hello,” Janine said again with a smile. “We’re just heading home from town if you’d like to ride along with us or would you rather go back? Our place is only another couple of miles in that direction,” she finished pointing along the road.
Mary Ellen looked down into the buggy at the stunning young woman with the bright red hair and softly rounded middle.
“I don’t want to be any trouble,” she said. “I feel like a complete ninny. People ride around on horses everyday and somehow manage to get where they’re going, but I can’t seem to manage at all.”
“Don’t feel bad about that,” Janine said. “When Bruno first taught me to drive the buggy I had a terrible time of it, but the more I practiced the better I got.”
The young cowboy smiled at his wife his midnight blue eyes sparkling with love. “You’re more than welcome to ride on to our place with us,” he offered. “I can tie Miss Betsy to the back of the buggy and you can climb in.”
Mary Ellen looked toward the mountains and off toward a distant puff of smoke on the horizon. “If you don’t mind I think I’ll just ride along with you. Perhaps Miss Betsy will decide to listen with others watching.”
Bruno grinned leading the mare up next to the buggy then climbed aboard.
“I hope you’ll stay f
or tea,” Janine enthused as they all started out together once more. “It’s ever so nice having someone over to the house, especially now that the Ratners are preparing to leave.”
“I don’t want to impose,” Mary Ellen said. “I’ll just ride along a bit then head back to town.”
She frowned at the younger woman’s obvious disappointment and reconsidered when the obviously pregnant Janine’s lip trembled.
“On second thought perhaps I could stop for a little while. I’m not accustomed to sitting on a horse, so a break is probably in order.”
Janine’s smile was like the sun breaking through the clouds. “It will be lovely,” she said. “I even have a pear tart that Matrice helped me make.”
Bruno grinned across his wife, offering a cheery wink to Mary Ellen, and her heart warmed to the young man. He obviously put his wife’s feelings first.
A short half hour ride further and they stopped in front of a lovely new home, its painted window boxes now bare of any flowers at this time of year.
Bruno climbed down from the buggy and helped Janine to the porch then turned to Miss Bigsby. “I’ll just lead the mare up to the porch, and you can climb off there,” he said his eyes twinkling at that the idea.
“What a sensible young man,” Miss Bigsby said, but the reality was not nearly so simple. First she had to swing her right leg over the saddle horn, all the while keeping her skirts around her ankles. Then once she was seated across the saddle she had to slide down the horse’s side until her feet hit the wooden slats.
“You go on in, and I’ll take care of the horses,” Bruno urged as Mary Ellen turned to where Janine was waiting.
“Thank you,” she said walking none too steadily toward the door. “What a lovely home,” she added as she followed Janine into the house.
“We just had it built this year,” Janine said. “Bruno felt we needed something a little bit bigger, and with the baby on the way, I agreed. I did like the other house though as well.” She added.
Mary Ellen followed her into a kitchen where the young woman quickly stoked up the fire and set the kettle on.
“Are you new to the area?” Janine asked. “Perhaps you’re looking for a place to stay.”
“I’m just visiting,” Mary Ellen said. Though in truth she didn’t know where she would call home in the future. She had nothing to call her back to North Carolina, and no job she was needed at anymore.
Mary Ellen took a seat at the table while the young woman bustled around the kitchen setting out plates and taking a lovely looking pie from the icebox. “I was just wondering because our neighbors, the Ratners are leaving at the end of the month. I’ll be very sad to see them go as will my daddy and his new wife. Mrs. Ratner saved Ruth’s life you see.”
Mary Ellen looked up from taking off her gloves with a start.
“You see Daddy had this horseless carriage,” Janine continued. “Have you seen one? Apparently they’re rather popular in some of the eastern states now. Well anyway, Daddy was driving too fast and crashed, but Agnes was there and she helped.”
“I think your father and step-mother were very fortunate that someone was close by,” Mary Ellen said.
“Yes, we’re all thankful that Rock found Agnes and her children and told them they were welcome in Biders Clump.”
A few minutes later with a clatter of dishes, Janine poured tea, setting an extra place for Bruno when he came in from the barn.
“So what brings you to Biders Clump?” Janine finally asked.
“I’m a little embarrassed to admit it,” Mary Ellen said. “You’ll think me a silly old woman.”
“Why would I do that?” Janine asked. “You aren’t even old, and you don’t seem silly at all.”
Mary Ellen looked up into the young woman’s warm brown eyes with a start. No one would consider Miss Bigsby anything but an old spinster. Sometimes back home children would play guessing games at her age cringing to think of anyone ever reaching an age over thirty. Why she was practically ancient in their eyes.
“Please tell me,” Janine pleaded. “I promise I won’t make fun. I don’t like it when people make fun.”
“Well I recently retired from teaching, and on a whim decided to come out here to meet Aquila Adams. I just love her books and thought I should see the place she lives in before I’m not able to travel.”
A bright smile spread across Janine’s face. “Quil has always been rather intimidating to me,” she confessed. “She’s ever so bright and clever. She’s was a bit ahead of me and Bruno in school of course, but everyone knew that Quil was smart.”
Mary Ellen picked up her tea taking a sip as Bruno walked in heading to the sink to wash his hands.
“Who’s smart?” the young man asked.
“We were just talking about Quil,” Janine said. “Miss Bigsby came all the way to Biders Clump to see where she lived.”
“You don’t say?” Bruno took a seat and the cup his wife offered him. “We’re closer in age to Sara, Quil’s youngest sister, but all the Adams girls had their own special skills.”
“Right after Bruno and I were married, Sara and Rebecca helped me learn to make bread,” Janine offered with a smile. “I’m afraid I’m still learning to cook.”
Bruno reached out and took Janine’s hand. “You’ve done wonderful,” he drawled his voice full of affection. “You just keep learnin’ and getting better all the time.”
Mary Ellen watched as the young woman’s cheeks glowed pink and understood that this couple had come a long way in a short time. Janine must have been one of those pampered children who never discovered that they were good at anything because they never needed to do anything.
It was a shame in many ways that children were given so much but never learned to have any real talent of their own.
“Do you think you’ll be staying in Biders Clump long?” Bruno asked. “We’ve had a passel of people passing through and last year was about as busy as could be. We had a whole crew of diggers out quarrying pink granite from our land.”
Mary Ellen looked up with a smile. “That’s what all the pink stone flakes on the road were.”
“Yes ma’am,” Bruno affirmed. “It caught us by surprise when a fella decided he needed loads of that rock for his new house out east some place. He sent a whole crew, and they worked for months to get enough of what he wanted. Made a bit of a mess on the road but now it’s sorta dug in it makes for a nice drive.”
A soft knock on the door echoed into the kitchen and Bruno rose to answer it. Moments later he walked back in with a hearty dark skinned woman Mary Ellen hadn’t seen before.
“I wanted to bring this over to you,” Agnes Ratner said dropping lifting her chin when she saw Miss Bigsby.
“Oh, what is it?” Janine asked rising and taking the heavy pot from the other woman.
“We made up a big batch of beef stew to use the last of our frozen meat and I thought you might like it for supper tonight.” Again the woman’s eyes flickered to Mary Ellen.
“Agnes I’d like you to meet Miss Bigsby, she’s here visiting Biders Clump for a spell,” Bruno offered.
“Pleased to meet you ma’am,” Agnes said. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay, folks a mighty accommodating in these parts.” She turned looking at Janine. “I’d best get back home,” she said. “We’re busy sortin’ and organizing before we start out again. Now that Noah’s here and recovered we won’t stay much longer. I thank you both for your kindness.”
“I’ll walk you out?” Bruno offered kindly turning and disappearing back the way they had come.
Mary Ellen could hear snippets of his hushed conversation with Agnes and wondered if the the woman would truly stand by her husbands decision to make his daughter travel with them and leave the man she loved. If so the girl called Matrice was in for true heartache.
Based on what Mary Ellen pieced together from the soft words between Bruno and Mrs. Ratner, Agnes’s daughter, Matrice had lost her heart to the young Indian brave, but he
r parents were determined that she would leave with them in less than a month’s time.
Bruno came back into the kitchen and took his seat, giving his wife a significant look.
Mary Ellen finished her pear tart and sipped her tea. “This was a wonderful tart,” she said. “I should probably head back to town though and get out of your way. I really appreciate your help.”
Janine patted Mary Ellen’s hand. “Perhaps Bruno could ride back to town with you,” she suggested.
“No, no,” Mary Ellen said standing. “I’ve been enough trouble already. You just point me in the right direction, and I’ll be fine.”
Bruno gulped down the last of his tea and
rose, walking Mary Ellen to the door. A few minutes later she was perched on the back of the old gray mare once more and headed back toward town, determined not to let the horse get the better of her.
Chapter 9
“Miss Betsy, don’t you know we’re headed home?” Mary Ellen said ten minutes later when the horse wandered back onto the edge of the road and began to eat.
“I can’t believe this,” the petite woman said to the sky. “I’m an educated woman, and I can’t even get a dumb beast to go where I want it to.” Trying one more time to urge the horse to move forward she growled with frustration. “Well if that’s how you want it,” she grumbled adjusting her skirts. “I guess I have no choice.”
Twisting about in the saddle, she slung her right leg over the horse’s rump, and holding tight to the horn and the cantle, she lowered herself to the ground.
The old horse continued to eat, barely seeming to notice the woman standing next to her.
“Now come along,” Mary Ellen announced in her best teacher voice surprised when the horse lifted its head and began following her along the road.
The sound of a rider coming from the other direction made Mary Ellen feel even more foolish for walking toward town when she had a perfectly good horse she should have been riding.
“Miss Bigsby,” Rock trotted his horse up to her and stopped tipping his hat as he leaned on his saddle horn. “Is something wrong?” he indicated the horse that had started cropping grass as soon as she’d come to a stop.
