The Prairie Princess

by Lisa Prysock

  Chapter 4

  “THE POTENTIAL POSSIBILITIES of any child are the most intriguing and stimulating in all creation.”—Ray L. Wilbur, third president of Stanford University.

  “LADY MIA ARABELLA MORLEY?”

  Mia jumped up from the trunk and whirled around when she heard boots on the boardwalk approaching from behind and her name spoken by a male voice. Her dark plum skirt flew out and her wavy brown hair whirled around over one shoulder.

  “Mr. Stanton, I presume?” She placed both hands squarely on her hips. He was only minutes late, but she wished he’d been there ahead of her stage.

  He nodded, tipping his cowboy hat, and offered a friendly smile and a handshake. “Yes, that’s right. Nice to meet you. I apologize for not being on time. One of our cows delivered a calf, and I couldn’t leave without knowing the mother and her calf were going to be all right. I hope you haven’t been waiting very long.”

  She shook his hand, relieved to see he hadn’t forgotten. If she was going to be employed by a cattle baron, she supposed she should display understanding for the nature of his livelihood. As the daughter of a gentleman dairy farmer, she could empathize. “Not a problem. I arrived only moments ago. I haven’t been in Belle for more than about five minutes.”

  “I see these are your trunks. Let’s get you loaded up.” He picked up one of her trunks as if it was empty, easily placing it on the back of his buggy in no time. While he retrieved the other, she couldn’t help but study the handsome, rugged cowboy. He had strong cheekbones, golden-brown hair, more blond than brown, and blue eyes reminding her of the deep blue ocean. He was at least a foot taller than her own petite frame, and he looked strong as an ox.

  “How was your journey?” he asked as he helped her up into the seat. Joining her, he took the reins in his large, tan hands.

  “Absolutely wonderful, all things considered. A train brought me from Cheyenne to Glenda, and a stage directly to Belle. I have immensely enjoyed the landscapes and the pioneer spirit of the people I’ve seen and met along the way.” She arranged her dark plum skirt with the pretty pink and plum floral pattern in the overlay skirt of her bustled travel suit, spreading it out so it wouldn’t wrinkle any further.

  “Glad to hear it,” he remarked, snapping the reins gently.

  As the buggy pulled forward behind two beautiful chestnut horses, she held onto her hat with the bit of dark plum veil over her eyes. She tried not to fuss with the buttons on the coordinating jacket sleeves, a combination of plum trim and the summery floral pattern. However, not fussing with her buttons was usually a futile battle whenever she found herself slightly nervous, bored, or distracted.

  She’d been fidgeting with her buttons ever since her mother had passed away when she was a young girl. To her, buttons weren’t merely buttons. No, to Mia, buttons were memories of the labor of love her mother had bestowed each time she’d sewn them on her dresses and dolls. Playing with her buttons was her one failing. She’d rather faint than permit her new employer to discover it this soon, so she sat on her hands, placing them under her thighs beneath her layers of skirts and petticoats.

  “How far is it to Silver Aspen Ranch from town?” They were almost down the main street of town before she’d been able to think of anything to say. A few townsfolk nodded in their direction, looking curiously at the woman riding in Joshua Stanton’s buggy. There was much to take in about Belle, but as he’d mentioned in his letter, she could see it was a small, quaint town.

  “Silver Aspen is an hour drive to the northeast in good weather.” He nodded back at each person who waved as they continued on. “Do you need anything from the General Store before we leave town?”

  Mia shook her head. “No, but thank you for asking. I didn’t realize the ranch was so far from Belle. My father’s country estate is about the same distance from Bristol on foot. We live in the countryside of Somerset.” She paused to take in the beautiful wide open space opening before them as they left the little town behind and he turned the buggy toward the northeast to follow a narrow dirt road. “It’s so beautiful here. The mountains are breathtaking, and the wide open spaces so refreshing.”

  He nodded. “I’d like to visit England someday.” Mr. Stanton turned to look at her. “I’m glad you like Wyoming so far. It’s quiet and peaceful.”

  “I do like it very much, from what I’ve seen so far.” She smiled, taking in more of the scenery around them. It was nice to be riding in the buggy instead of the stage or the train. Now she could make out many more details such as the goldenrod, tufts of snowball verbena, hyssop, wild chives, and asters in the meadow opening up on both sides of the buggy. “Oh, look. There’s jasmine...and I believe that patch of flowers over there is what they call western pearly everlasting.”

  “You seem to know a lot about the species of flowers here,” he commented, a surprised look appearing on his face.

  “Oh, I’ve studied everything I can find about the western frontier in America. It’s always been my dream to visit, so you can imagine my delight that a position like this became available.” She sat up straighter, becoming more comfortable in conversing with Mr. Stanton.

  “I’m sure your studies will be very helpful to you out here in the wilds of Wyoming.” He pushed his hat a little further back on his head. “I believe Ambrosia will benefit from it.”

  “Yes, I guess I’m a little surprised she couldn’t come with you to meet me.” It was the first time she’d heard him mention her charge’s name. She turned to look at him, marveling again at how handsome Joshua Stanton looked in his crisp white shirt, a leather hide vest, dungarees, and cowboy boots. She wondered who ironed his shirts. He didn’t look like the type of person who’d ever ironed anything. His letter had said he was a widower, but perhaps he had someone to help with the cooking and ironing.

  “Well, she went fishing down by the creek.” He sounded a little nervous for the first time since she’d met him.

  “Fishing?” Mia’s eyebrow shot up.

  “Yes, well, that’s part of the problem.” He sighed.

  “Indeed!” She laughed and this drew a chuckle from him. She paused. “Your letter mentioned she’d had some difficulty in school. What kind of problem?”

  “Well, to tell you the truth, Ambrosia Rose is a bit of a tomboy. She’s never had a mother around and only knew my mother about a year before she passed on. Isabelle died when our son Andrew was born, and burying both of them was more than my heart could take. Ambrosia doesn’t even remember her.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She looked away, unsure of what to say. Perhaps the position was more than she’d bargained for. His letter hadn’t mentioned why he was a widower or that it had been for so long.

  “I suppose I haven’t been able to be both mother and father to her. Lord knows I’ve done my best. If it wasn’t for Ambrosia, I wouldn’t have had a reason to keep going.” His tone was somber, but honest.

  “I appreciate your candor with me, Mr. Stanton. I’ll certainly do my best to be a good and healing influence.”

  “You seem young and energetic. I’m sure you’ll be able to accomplish what the teacher in Belle couldn’t,” he remarked.

  His statement caused her some degree of alarm. She should set him straight at once in case her charge, Ambrosia, turned out to be stubborn. “You should be aware, Mr. Stanton, if she didn’t listen to the last teacher, she may not listen to me. You need to be prepared for that possibility.” Lady Mia looked directly at him, hoping he wouldn’t expect something she might not be able to deliver. As she’d mentioned in her letter to him, Ambrosia would be her first student.

  They were heading down a slight incline, so she held onto her hat firmly and turned to look straight ahead. When he didn’t respond to her comment, she was worried he would give up on her before she even began. Sitting up straighter, her confidence rose up within. “However, I should add, if anyone can do it, it will be me.”

  “Please, call me Joshua, and why do you say that, Lady Mia?” h
e asked.

  “I am impressed. I thought you might address me as Lady Morley, but because I am not married, Lady Mia is the proper form of address in informal situations.” Regardless of the fact this cowboy knew about titles of the peerage, she needed to gain his cooperation if she was going to succeed. And she needed it now, at the very beginning. “The reason I say if anyone can it will be me, is because I have never failed at anything I set my mind to do. My education was among the very best. I was taught with an unorthodox approach, and thus, my approach will be unorthodox. I will need your complete trust and support.”

  He paused, appearing to consider his response carefully. “That depends on how unorthodox, but in general, if it doesn’t hurt my daughter, I will be supportive.”

  “Sometimes children merely need a different vantage,” she pointed out.

  “True. There’s a difference between discipline and punishment.” He shifted in his seat, keeping his eyes on the dirt road, now winding past another farm.

  “I agree, Mr. Stanton. I am of the sort who believes in discipline and not punishment. I suppose anyone can bring out the worst in someone if their aim is to provoke. If provoked, my plan is to discuss the proper recourse with you if I cannot come to a decent and fair conclusion. I cannot imagine treating her with any kind of cruelty. You must trust I know the difference between the two. I also believe in acting and not reacting. There’s a difference in those as well.” Now she was fidgeting with her buttons. How long had she forgotten not to do so?

  He nodded. “As a university student, I found that was the general approach. If a student didn’t put forth effort, he had to face the consequences.”

  “What is it you hope I can accomplish with Miss Ambrosia?” She sat on her hands again, hoping he hadn’t noticed her fidgeting.

  “I liked all of the subjects you mentioned in your letter. In addition, she needs to learn about manners, cooking, keeping house, sewing, and I believe refinement is the word. A little help with becoming a young lady regarding her wardrobe and such.”

  “Has she had any female influences in recent years?” Mia noticed a yellow butterfly in flight and seemingly endless prairie filled with narcissus and prairie roses. It would make for a lovely classroom. She could already see hours of enjoyment ahead for her and Ambrosia. They could read many books and sketch many pictures with the prairie for a canvas.

  “There’s Fern at the ranch, but she’s a bit on the elderly side. She’s a great cook and housekeeper, a kind of motherly figure for Ambrosia, but perhaps she’s too elderly for my daughter to pay her much attention.” He paused, and then continued. “Do you suppose you can bring Ambrosia around to the point where she is doing well in her lessons and studies, dressing more appropriately for her age, behaving and speaking as she should, and able to attend social functions, and maybe even able to host a social function?”

  She bit her lower lip. “This is a tall request since you’ve indicated some attitude issues with the previous school. We will need to do some shopping and sewing from the sound of it, along with plenty of other hard work. I believe everything you’ve mentioned is entirely possible, but Ambrosia’s got to have a reason to want to comply. It could take years to see real results, or it could happen quickly. Have you thought of how you might reward her for cooperation?”

  “No, but I’ll think of something.” Then he nodded toward a point in the distance. “There’s Silver Aspen, just around the bend.”

  Chapter 5

  “THERE ARE ELEMENTS of intrinsic beauty in the simplification of a house built on the log cabin idea. First, there is the bare beauty of the logs themselves with their long lines and firm curves. Then there is the open charm felt of the structural features which are not hidden under plaster and ornament, but are clearly revealed, a charm felt in Japanese architecture...The quiet rhythmic monotone of the wall of logs fills one with the rustic peace of a secluded nook in the woods.”—Gustav Stickley (1916). “The Craftsman: An Illustrated Monthly Magazine in the Interest of Better Art, Better Work, and a Better and More Reasonable Way of Living.”

  SILVER ASPEN RANCH unfolded before them. The house itself was a two-story log cabin built upon a foundation of rock and stone, some of which glimmered in the sunshine. Mia was delighted to see the dormer windows running across the second floor and the covered porch below. Several white barns, sheds, and fenced pastures dotted the ranch on the right side of the property. She could see a well in the front of the house, several apple trees and cottonwoods along the lane leading to the house and on the front lawn providing the only shade away from the front porch.

  In the distance, she spotted a tree line toward the left of the house consisting of tall poplars, oaks, junipers, and a few crabapples. Everywhere else she saw grazing land leading to more open range. About twelve horses grazed in one of the fenced pastures near the barns. She spotted a goose in the front yard, but the chickens were contained in a large coop with a henhouse of their own.

  Shading her eyes with a hand pressed against the netting of her hat, she spotted a few dozen cattle grazing in another fenced pasture near the barns. She guessed these cattle were likely Mr. Stanton’s dairy cows. The wranglers and cowboys she expected to see were probably still out in the open range managing the bulk of his herd.

  When Joshua pulled the buggy to a stop near the cabin, she spotted an Australian Shepherd running around the barn area heading right for them, and one contented Old English sheepdog reclining on the front porch. The latter stood up and stretched, its tail wagging to see the Master return.

  “That’s Sable on the front porch with all the hair, and the energetic one is Maclachlan. Everyone calls him Mac, but he’s named after a Scottish clan I am partly descended from. It means brave and faithful,” he explained after jumping down from the buggy. He offered her a hand to steady her while she climbed down.

  “Thank you.” Mia laughed when Mac bounded over, greeting them both with a good deal of affection. At long last, she had arrived. She bent down and patted the dog. “Hello, Mac.” The sheepdog licked her cheek, causing her to giggle again.

  “Looks like you’ve made a new friend.” He chuckled and patted Mac when the dog danced and jumped around him as if he’d been gone for a year. “Let’s get you settled so you’ll have time to rest before dinner.”

  “That sounds wonderful.” She smiled, anxious to have a long rest and freshen up.

  “We can speak more about your schedule and when classes will resume after dinner. I’d like to show you two options for your room before we unload your trunks.” He motioned for her to follow him inside, and she obeyed. “I’ll give you a tour of the place. It’s modest, but I think you’ll find it comfortable.”

  Once they were in the spacious cabin, she was pleased to find they were in a wide hall running the length of the middle of the house with a staircase on one side. He showed her the main sitting room on the right, leading to his study behind it. She was happy to see comfortable yet rustic furniture and shelves containing an extensive collection of books. Leather chairs and a large mahogany desk took up the center of the room.

  “This is such an unexpected delight!” She ran her fingers along the books, happy to find such an amazing library.

  “You’re welcome to borrow any of them.” He smiled, his blue eyes appearing to study her reactions closely. His eyes twinkled when he smiled, drawing her in with warmth and kindness.

  Both rooms had a spacious feel with clean wood floors and large oriental area rugs, giving the main house of the ranch a comforting touch. A number of wood benches and a few upholstered wingback chairs offered comfort. More impressive was the massive stone fireplace dividing each of the rooms, both sharing the same tall chimney.

  On the left of the hall, he introduced her to a dining room with a long, plank table, wooden chairs, a buffet stained to match, and a hutch with glass doors displaying a nice collection of dishes. “We take all of our meals here, and the whole ranch attends unless they’re camping out on the r
ange. Breakfast is served at seven, lunch at noon, and dinner at eight. I think you’ll find Fern is an excellent cook. Most of our meals are simple. It’s beef stew tonight, I believe.” She could smell the delicious meal simmering from inside the kitchen.

  “Thank you. I enjoy beef stew.” When she paused at the hutch to study the dishes, he stood nearby, holding his hat in his hands. “Those belonged to my mother, and a few were my Isabelle’s dishes.”

  “They’re very beautiful. The whole cabin is rustic and stunning,” she remarked with an approving tone, relieved to find they weren’t entirely destitute of creature comforts in the western frontier.

  There weren’t many pictures, but there were plenty of pillows, drapes on the windows, cushions, a few quilts, afghans, lanterns, candles, and oil lamps throughout the cabin. She noticed a portrait above the dining room fireplace of a young couple in the prime of their lives and moved to study it. The woman had the same kindness in her blue eyes as Joshua, and the man looked almost identical to him.

  “Those were my parents,” he explained. “Benjamin and Ida Stanton. They moved here to Wyoming from Virginia when I was eighteen, leaving me to run our Virginia farm. I finished my education at the College of William and Mary, met the love of my life, and started a family in Virginia while they built up Silver Aspen.”

  “What did you study at the college?” She looked at him, interested to discover more of the mystery behind Joshua Stanton. At times, he looked almost out of place on the ranch, but she supposed he’d hired plenty of wranglers and cowboys to manage everything. There was a side to him that didn’t fit what she’d imagined a cattle farmer might be, but now it was all beginning to make more sense to her.

  “I have a baccalaureate in theology, but I also studied law, political economy, and managed to take a few agricultural classes. My love is farming, horses, and ranching.”