The Prairie Princess

by Lisa Prysock

  “Thank you for helping me, today. I didn’t realize how much I’ve needed to go clothing shopping, and I didn’t want to ask anyone else to go with me, but I really needed help. I tried ordering from a catalog, but few of those dresses have ever fit right, as you see. I seem to have a knack for ordering the wrong size or the wrong style. Pa, he’s always too busy for that kind of thing and doesn’t know much about buying clothes for girls. Fern, well, she isn’t much help when it comes to fashion.”

  Mia stared at the golden-haired teen with the blue eyes seated across from her. Her heart melted for her pupil with affection. “You’re very welcome, Ambrosia. I had a lovely time helping you today, and I purchased a new hat for myself. I believe it’s been a very productive day so far. Believe it or not, I remember what it was like to be your age, and I am different than most other girls.”

  “Why do you say that?” Joshua’s daughter had a curious tone in her voice.

  “Well, like you, I didn’t have a mother to help me at your age, either.” Mia sipped some of her sweet tea.

  “You didn’t?”

  “My mother was from Venice, Italy. My father met her on his grand tour of Europe. They married and he brought her home to England, where they married again in a quaint little chapel near my father’s estate. Then, after a little while, Alfred came along. Not long after my brother, I was born. However, when I was about the age of eight, she passed away suddenly from some kind of severe influenza. It happened so quickly. One day she was there, sewing me little rag dolls, helping me cut out paper dolls, purchasing sweet dresses for me to wear, and reading to me, teaching me everything. She’d sew buttons on my clothing if they fell off. Even on my rag dolls if their eyes fell off. She loved books, my mother. And then, in an instant, she was gone. All I had left were those little rag dolls with button eyes. I felt so alone.” As they talked, Mia realized she was fidgeting with her buttons again.

  “I had no idea...” Ambrosia replied softly.

  Chapter 9

  Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. Proverbs 31:30, NIV

  “QU’EST CE QUE C’EST?” Ambrosia repeated.

  “Excellent! Très bien, very good!” Mia clasped her hands together and smiled. “You’re a natural with French. Now, do you remember what it means?”

  They were seated in the middle of a quilt near Ambrosia’s favorite fishing creek, listening to the sound of the flowing water as it rushed over rocks and flowed around branches jutting out from the banks. Mia held a French book open in her hands, and Ambrosia’s remained closed in her lap because Mia required her to answer questions without looking at the text of the lesson.

  Joshua observed everything while he fished from a spot a little further away. He was sheltered behind shrubs and trees which concealed his presence, but they hadn’t been there very long. He wished he’d been taught his lessons outside by a creek where life was meant to be enjoyed. Mia’s methods might be unorthodox, but he had to admit she’d made progress.

  “It means, what is that, or what does it mean?” Ambrosia answered.

  “Oui! Yes!” Lady Mia’s voice sounded happy. He couldn’t look at her expression because each time he did, he only wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss those voluptuous lips. He enjoyed sitting next to her in church, but so far, he’d had to resist the desire each week to put his arm around her on the back of the pew. Pastor Elkins was a fine preacher though, and so far he’d been able to concentrate on the sermons as long as he didn’t become too mesmerized by the beauty at his side.

  He looked forward to their occasional meetings in the evenings when she gave him reports of her progress. Mia had worked wonders with his daughter in a short time. Ambrosia not only dressed like a proper young lady now, but she was beginning to behave like one. For one thing, he’d noticed his daughter had grown less temperamental as her frustrations dissipated.

  Soon, he heard Mia’s voice again. “Time for our cooking lesson. We’d better hurry or we’ll be late. I don’t want to keep Fern waiting, and she promised to give us some wonderful tips.” The girls gathered their belongings, and shortly after, he was left to fish in peace, enjoying a rare day off from his other duties.

  Later that evening, he was home early for dinner and ran into them in the main hall as he hurried down the staircase. “Good evening, Lady Mia, Ambrosia.”

  “Oh, Pa!” Ambrosia burst into a fit of giggles as a book fell off her head and slammed onto the wood floor, echoing down the hall. “You frightened me!”

  Confused, he looked from Ambrosia to Mia. “Why is she wearing a book on her head? Osmosis?”

  Mia shook her head and laughed as his daughter picked up the book, returned it to her head, and began walking again with her arms stretched out. “She’s practicing poise and graceful movements.”

  “Poise and grace, yes, of course, I see that now.” He winked at Mia and nodded. “Will you be joining us for dinner this evening or taking the meal in the cabin?”

  “I believe Ambrosia has an invitation she wishes to give you to join us for dinner in the cabin this evening. She prepared the meal herself.” Mia smiled, glancing at her student.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do have an invitation for you, Pa.” Ambrosia had succeeded in walking to him without dropping the book. She pulled an invitation out of her skirt pocket and handed it to him. “Will you join us?”

  He opened the invitation and studied it. “This is beautiful handwriting, Ambrosia. I would be honored to join you and Lady Mia. I see I am expected to arrive in twenty minutes.”

  “Try it again once more, this time with your arms at your sides,” Mia instructed. “Then we’ll have dinner.”

  A LITTLE WHILE LATER, the three of them were seated at the table inside the guest cabin where Ambrosia served bowls of hearty vegetable beef soup, buttermilk biscuits, cherry preserves, butter, and lemonade. Mac and Sable had followed them to the cabin, and now Mac lay under the table while Sable curled up near the fireplace.

  Joshua said the blessing as they bowed their heads and held hands, and Mia felt her tummy do a little flip inside at his touch when she clasped her smaller hand in his strong one. She tried not to notice how handsome he looked with his blond hair, nearly sky blue eyes, and clean-shaven jaw. However, something inside her longed to feel him wrap her up in his arms so she could lean against his broad, muscular chest. She tried to shake the thought from her mind.

  Joshua tasted some of the soup, and they waited for the verdict. He shifted in his seat and a serious look appeared in his eyes. Then he grinned, setting them at ease. “This is delicious, Ambrosia. Are you sure you made this?”

  She giggled, smoothing out her new pale yellow dress with white trim. “Yes, Pa, but I had a lot of help from Fern and Mia. We used the leftover pot roast from yesterday.”

  “And there was so much of everything; she was able to leave plenty for the wranglers.” Mia smiled at her pupil, proud of her accomplishment as they enjoyed the meal.

  “Something else looks different about you, Ambrosia, but I’m not sure what it is.” Joshua studied his daughter for a moment.

  “Oh, do you like my new hair style? Mia taught me how to arrange it this way.” She tucked a few bouncy curls in place. “It’s kind of a fancy up-do.”

  Joshua looked at Mia and then back at Ambrosia, nodding with an approving look on his face. “Yes, that’s what it is. You look very mature. I like it. If you get much prettier we’ll have to hide you from all the boys.”

  “Speaking of boys, perhaps you could answer something for me.” Mia buttered one of the biscuits. “I’ve been here for a while now, but I’ve never heard Frankie speak. Is there something wrong, or does he prefer not to talk?”

  Joshua sipped some of the lemonade and leaned back in his chair. “His parents were killed in an Indian raid a few years ago and according to his grandparents, he hasn’t spoken much since. Apparently he witnessed the ordeal.”

  “Oh, that’
s terrible. I’m so sorry to hear that.” Mia shuddered and closed her eyes. “He must struggle with those memories. I had no idea.”

  Ambrosia grew quiet, nodding.

  Joshua leaned forward and returned to eating the delicious soup. “Some things that happen in the west are not pleasant at all. It can be treacherous, even for those who have vast knowledge of the area. Things can change in an instant. We really rely on the Lord for our protection out here.”

  She nodded, understanding. Then the discussion turned to some of the things they’d been able to observe on the ranch. After dinner, Ambrosia served coffee and rice pudding with nutmeg and cinnamon for dessert. Then she set about washing dishes as Joshua and Mia lingered over their coffee, listening to the crickets sing their summer night song through the open windows.

  “Would you like to see some of your daughter’s drawings from our excursions to see various sites at Silver Aspen?” Mia asked as she poured a little cream into her coffee cup.

  “Yes, I would.” Joshua looked on with avid interest as Ambrosia joined them, bringing their sketch books to the table. They looked through page after page of their sketches, but particularly Ambrosia’s drawings. There were horses, butterflies, cats, drawings of Mac and Sable, mountains, rivers and creeks, the town, the church, the cabin, the main house, the barn, the herd of cattle, the wranglers, and more. Mia watched all of his reactions to each of his daughter’s sketches closely, wondering if he saw what she did in his daughter’s talents.

  When Joshua was finished examining all of their drawings, he appeared speechless. Finally, he found words as he shook his head with some degree of marvel evident in his expression. “These are without a doubt among some of the finest sketches I’ve ever seen. I knew you could draw, Ambrosia. I’ve always known that, but these are outstanding. When did you become this good?”

  Ambrosia basked in his praise, her blue eyes matching her father’s, sparkling with hope.

  Mia sighed, thankful he could see the talent his daughter possessed. “I knew you’d like them. Joshua Stanton, we have at this table with us one of the best artists I’ve ever known. She should be encouraged to develop this.”

  He nodded and turned back to the one with his horse, Midnight. “This one is my favorite, but then I think it might be this one.” He turned to the picture of Silver Aspen showing the main house, the lane leading up to the porch, and the barns. “Oh, I don’t know, they are all amazing.”

  “ARE YOU ENJOYING THE picnic and your first Independence Day in America?” Joshua sat back on the quilt they’d spread near the pond, observing Lady Mia as she took in the festivities around them.

  She nodded, appearing to watch Frankie and Ambrosia in her blue denim dress as they ate ice cream a little distance away beneath a shady oak tree. “I am! What’s not to like? There’s ice cream, a band, a speech from the mayor, wonderful food, children playing, sunshine, townsfolk, firecrackers, buggy races, a blue-ribbon pie contest, and when we return to the ranch, it will be time for illuminations. And did you see those beautiful handmade quilts? I don’t know how the judges will choose one. Did you see the look on Ambrosia’s face when she took third place for her apple pie?”

  “Yes, I did. We’re all proud of her. You’ve done wonders with her transformation.” He leaned closer to Mia, unable to take his eyes off of her angelic face, wondering what it would be like to hold her in his arms. For a moment, their eyes locked and his shoulder brushed against her. It seemed as if the world stood still and they were invisible to the rest of the town. But then some of the wranglers returned from the ice cream line, and they were back in Belle again with townsfolk all around. Everyone was there except Thomas, who’d remained behind for the day saying he wanted to spend the holiday resting at the ranch.

  On the drive home, Joshua found himself alone in the buckboard with Mia while the others drove to Silver Aspen in the wagon ahead of them. For lack of anything else to say as they drove toward home, he tried to make small talk. He hadn’t felt his faith soar this much since he’d married Isabelle. “Are you looking forward to your hiking trip tomorrow with Ambrosia? She’s really looking forward to it. It’s all she talked about today, other than her award-winning apple pie.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Any idea where you’ll go exploring? Did you decide on a special location?” he asked. She’d taken a few short exploring trips with his daughter around much of the ranch, but now she’d made it clear she was anxious to see something a little further away.

  “I thought we’d ride out to see Wynter’s Mountain. I hear it’s quite a sight and only a few miles north of Belle.” A loud rumble seemed to boom across the prairie. “Was that an explosion of some sort I heard from back toward town?”

  “I guess so.” However, he was too surprised at her ambitious plans for tomorrow to worry about anything happening back in Belle at present. “I’m glad Henry agreed to ride out with you. He said it’d likely be an overnight camping excursion. Are you sure you’re up to it?” It crossed his mind that perhaps he should go with them, but then he remembered the pack of wolves they’d heard howling and lurking around Silver Aspen at night. He really ought to stay behind. They’d been taking turns guarding the herd at night and lately, his herd had been roaming close to home. Tomorrow was his turn with Patrick.

  One thing was clear though. This amazing little lady had worn down every one of his excuses and defenses to remain a widower. He enjoyed all of her interactions with him on every level, and they’d had so many conversations, about so many things. He found himself looking forward to all of them, and many more. But did she look forward to them as much as he did?

  Chapter 10

  In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord; in the night my hand was stretched out without weariness; my soul refused to be comforted. Psalm 77:2, NAS

  THE NEXT DAY, THEY set out with a late start at ten o’clock in the morning for Wynter’s Mountain in the wagon. Henry had put the canvas cover on, and Mia and Ambrosia spent more time packing and arranging it than intended. They tried to think of everything they might need and carefully packed bedding, personal items, and other supplies. Henry was convinced they had enough to survive a week of camping if necessary. Fern had packed a picnic basket for them filled to the brim with all sorts of goodies. As a reward for her excellent behavior, Lady Mia invited Frankie to come along. He stocked the wagon with plenty of firewood so they could build a fire at their campsite if they decided to stay overnight.

  Soon they were plodding along steadily toward Belle, with the intention of turning north once they arrived in town. Ambrosia couldn’t wait to draw the beautiful mountain peak, and Mia was happy they were driving toward the majestic Rocky Mountain ranges.

  When they finally reached the mountain, it was a glorious sight, jutting up toward the sky, beckoning them to climb it. Henry parked the wagon and made camp while Frankie and the girls explored the landmark base and followed a trail part of the way up the mountain.

  After a long hike, they returned to camp where Henry had found some scrub trees near a creek to tether the horses. They shared a meal of cold fried chicken, a wedge of cheese, apple cider, and peach cobbler. Then Mia and Ambrosia produced their sketch books and pencils to draw the glorious sight. After drawing until the sun began to sink in the horizon, they sat around the campfire drinking hot cocoa and enjoying the peaceful evening. However, when Mia heard a howl in the distance, Henry explained it was likely a coyote.

  The idea of being attacked by wild coyotes briefly crossed her mind. If there was one, there could be more. Mia yawned, realizing she was more tired than she’d first thought. “I think we’ll turn in and get a good night’s sleep. Ambrosia is already dozing off.”

  “Good night, ladies. We’ll be sleeping right here leaning against the wagon, close to the fire.” Henry nodded. “Frankie and I have our rifles close. We’ll try to keep an eye out for coyotes.”

  Frankie nodded in agreement, but his eyelids looked heavy, too. Mia and Ambr
osia climbed into the wagon, both of them sleepier than usual. Without changing their clothing, the girls fell asleep almost instantly on a makeshift bed consisting of quilts and feather pillows.

  In the middle of the night, they were startled awake by complete chaos. Mia opened her eyes, expecting to find coyotes. Instead, she found two men stood outside the wagon and one inside, all shouting, all aiming rifles at them. The man inside the wagon wore a bandana over his face so only his eyes were visible.

  “Sit up with your backs to each other. Do exactly as we say and you won’t be hurt!” The man growled at them.

  Ambrosia screamed, but he silenced her by holding the rifle closer to her. “I said, sit up with your backs to each other! Do it quickly, now!”

  They heard the other two men tell Henry and Frankie to do the same outside by the campfire, and all Mia could do was pray silently while Ambrosia began to sob. They obeyed and he tied them together with rope so they couldn’t move. He tied their hands, and then gagged them so they couldn’t speak.

  “I don’t wanna hear any noise out of either of yuns.” The man sat down to wait at the back of the wagon, keeping the rifle aimed at them.

  Mia couldn’t understand what these men wanted or why they waited. She had to find a way to keep Ambrosia calm and perhaps find a way of escape, but how?

  JOSHUA TOSSED AND TURNED by the campfire out on the open range beyond Silver Aspen. He and Patrick took turns sleeping, and it was his turn to stay awake. He kept a loaded rifle at his side, ready in case of an attack. The herd had settled down and Mac kept him on full alert by barking each time he heard a wolf howl. He wondered how Lady Mia and Ambrosia were faring with Henry and Frankie, glad they had two men traveling with them.