Chapter 9
The next morning, Janelle hurried to the henhouse to see if her new occupants had left any surprises. She’d love to treat Bernie to an egg, although the meager offering on his plate could never match the thankfulness that burst in her heart. A farm was not a farm without hens and chickens and for the first time since arriving in Belle she felt her dream had found secure footing. It was a silly notion, but it was hers, and Bernie had fulfilled it. For her to have known two of the kindest most giving men in all the country caused her heart to sing on this fine day.
Bernie had ridden Davey by horseback to school this morning, as she did not have to work at the diner today. Lots to do but first on her list was to prepare a lunch feast for Bernie with all his favorite foods – hopefully eggs included. Inside the coop, she gently fished her hand around the straw under the platform. When she came up empty she groaned and talked encouragement to the birds attempting to trip her up. The hens were settling into their new home and probably disorientated in their laying routines. But Janelle persisted, searching in every nook and cranny and was rewarded with three large contributions for her table. She left the henhouse ecstatic. She’d not moved two feet when she ground to a halt.
“Was mighty disappointed you didn’t invite me to your birthday party, little miss.” The sneering face of Sam Spalding greeted her. “Brought me a present along anyway, just to show what a good sport I am.” He passed a bag to her.
“You are not welcome here. I thought I made that very clear when you last visited.”
“Now don’t be kicking a gift horse in the face. Understand you could use a filly to get to town and back – you being a working girl and all.”
Janelle gazed longingly at the roan he offered. His hand extended the reins in her direction. Briefly, she feasted on the fulfillment of yet another dream but just as quickly pushed it aside. Accepting a gift from this man would cost her dearly.
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
Already she could see his vile temper surfacing. His black eyes penetrated her defenses, deepening until it seemed she stared clear into the depths of hades itself. She inhaled. Deciding she’d not win a stare-down with him, she moved to sidestep him. That was a mistake. He grabbed for her arm and during the brief struggle that followed, she dropped her precious eggs to the ground. Tears erupted.
“Now that’s more like it,” Sam said. “Like me a woman who knows when she’s defeated. And since you seem to be missing your rifle this morning, this would be a good time to go for a ride.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Janelle shouted.
Her retort surprised Sam and she pulled her arm free and ran. He caught up, turned her to face him and with no hesitation punched her square in the side of the face. The impact sent her wheeling backward and landed her in a soft wet snowdrift.
“Now you ain’t gonna win, girl, so you best just climb up on yer new horse and ride.”
“Where are we going?”
“Now I’d like to say I’d take you to the preacher and do it all up legal-like, but that will have to wait. Don’t want to run into your hired man before I claim you as mine.”
“I will never be yours,” Janelle argued.
If she could just keep him talking and waste time? Bernie should be back from town soon and he’d finish off what she failed to do the first time around.
“We’ll see about that.” He handed her the reins. “Even got ya a saddle.”
Her brain searched for a distraction. “I need warmer clothes.”
“Thinking of packing a bag, are you?” he looked behind him and when the road was empty, he agreed. “Might be gone fer a spell. You got five minutes and I’m right behind you so don’t try anything funny.”
As she walked toward the cabin, she mentally imagined her next move. The rifle was out of reach for Sam dogged her steps and she’d not have a minute alone. But when she noticed him stop briefly at the hitching post by the front porch, she hurried up the steps and fled inside, running full tilt for the gun. She should have taken the time to latch the door, for her opportunity was lost when he caught her arm reaching for the rifle on the high shelf. His fist found her face again and she tumbled to the floor. She felt the abrupt impact from the heavy leg of the oak table as her head collided with it. She closed her eyes and lay slumped, pretending to be knocked out. Would he be fooled by her show of unconsciousness? She heard him cuss and when his boot connected with her side she recoiled in pain.
“Get on your feet, wench! I’m trying to be nice and you keep riling me.” With one pull he yanked on her arm causing her to shriek with the pain that shot into her shoulder.
“You only got two minutes left. Best pack in a hurry.”
Janelle raced for the bedroom and threw clothes recklessly around the room as a sign for Bernie and picking the warmest to put in her duffle bag. A thought came to her when she sighted the chunk of bread Davey had left on her night table this morning while eating-on-the-run. Grabbing the uneaten portion, she buried it into the pocket of her dress. She’d leave Bernie a trail, and hope the birds didn’t eat it before he caught on.
“One minute,” warned the voice from the doorway.
Janelle yanked her wool cap over her head and pulled warm mittens on. Hiding under the baggy winter-wear did not have the effect she desired. Sam whistled.
“Now that cut your high-class finery down to more my style. ‘Bout time ya got a taste of yer own demoralizing hypocrisy.” His grin revealed yellow teeth and holes in his mouth where others had been either knocked or rotted out.
“Big words for a no-good loser like you.” Tears threatened to nullify her brave front but she pushed them back and bit the bottom lip to stop the trembling.
He came in the room and grabbed the case. With the barrel of his pistol he motioned to the door. “Time to pull out, woman.”
“Where are we going?”
“You leave that to me. Been riding the fence line for Silver Aspen Ranch and found me a shack tucked in the woods. Nice and private. Give me plenty of time to tame the wild spirit out of ya.” He laughed. “Got me a stallion fer a wife. Now ain’t that the nicest compliment you ever got, woman?” She never answered.
On the way through the kitchen, he hollered, “Grab some grub. All this fightin’ has given me hunger pangs.”
Good, Janelle thought. A bit more time to waste. Surely Bernie was on his way back to the farm by now. She found a bag and threw in a loaf of bread and a jar of jam, not willing to share any more with the likes of him.
“Got no meat?” Sam asked as she turned to leave.
From the morning fry pan she grabbed a couple sausages and tossed them his way. “I’m not rich if that’s what you think you’ll be gaining from me.”
The offering disappeared down his gullet fast and he grinned his twisted appreciation.
“Not to worry, none. I’m a good shot and there’s lots of game in the forest. We won’t starve.” He chuckled. “How do you like the sound of Mrs. Sam Spalding. I think it suits ya.” He pushed her to the door. “Let’s get going.”
At the hitching post, before Janelle swung her legs over the roan, she dropped a small piece of bread from her pocket. Hopefully that would signal Bernie to follow the hoof marks. Suddenly, as if a sledgehammer hit her stomach full force, her optimism withered. She had no right to expect the man to follow after her. He’d been kind to them, but to risk his life for a family he was walking away from in the spring was another whole game he might not be prepared to play.
When they reached the edge of the forested area Sam yanked on the strap that tied the two horses together. She had no choice but to hang onto the saddle horn and follow. She dropped more bread as they entered the woods and began down a narrow path that would take her further into the unknown. Her fingers searched inside the other pocket of her coat and discovered the material frayed. She ripped a thin piece off and stuck it in a low-lying branch on the way by. Every so often, especially if they took a turn, she e
ither dropped bread or ripped pieces from her pocket. The man ahead paid no heed to what went on behind him and continued to pick his way along the overgrown excuse for a trail that they traversed.
The sun was rising high in the sky and Janelle feared she would run out of droppings before they reached their destination. In the distance she saw smoke billowing from a chimney. Sam turned around. “Home sweet home.” He turned his mare to the right and they wriggled through dense brush. She dropped the last of the bread in a heap on the ground and prayed God would keep the animals away from her food scraps.
One final pull of the reins and they broke into a clearing. She glanced in the direction of the smoke and shuddered. His mention of the shack in the woods had been a generous description of the building awaiting them. Even the first glance of what she now called home was never this bad. She equally knew Sam would not be interested in making the space livable for his captive bride. She grimaced at the image. Oh, Lord, she pleaded. Send Bernie to help one last time.
Chapter 10
The town of Belle was buzzing with activity this morning as Bernie offered an arm and Davey slid off the horse and landed on the ground.
“Now you mind the teacher, boy.”
“Yes, sir.” Little legs scooted off toward a group of boys playing in the schoolyard.
“I’ll be back at three,” Bernie shouted as he nudged Blaze into motion again.
He had a couple errands but wanted most to hurry back to the farm. He looked forward to a day on the farm with Janelle. He missed her on the days she worked in town, but could see a satisfaction in her attitude that she now contributed in a tangible way to the operation of her farm. She balked at his showing up with food, materials or equipment that a stranger shouldn’t have to provide – especially one that was hired on. But his funds were dwindling and soon he’d have to go looking for work that paid wages.
Heaven help him. He didn’t want to leave. Janelle and her son had captured his heart and if he didn’t think she’d bring out the gun, he’d ask her to marry him. Nothing would please him more than settling in Wyoming with this fiery woman. She confused him more often than not, her actions conflicting with her words. A man never could nail down where he stood with the woman. Perhaps he’d be bold enough before he pulled out to just blurt out his proposal. The most that could happen is she’d escort him off the property at the end of her rifle.
“Morning, Bernie,” said Henry Stewart. “Janelle got you delivering product on her day off?”
“She worked all evening on the cheese. Thought you might like some in the store. Wanted to save today to sew on that new dress. Mighty excited about the town dance coming up.”
“You’re doing the Lord’s work out there, mate. Hopefully after a night of dancing, the woman will come to her senses and you’ll become a permanent resident of our little town.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth. Nothing would make me happier.” Bernie grabbed a stick candy for Davey and a lifted a pretty hat off the shelf. “Do you think she might like this? I mean, to wear for our night out?”
“No. She won’t appreciate you wasting money on another hat, but she will like this,” said Livvy who’d came in from the back room.”
“Morning, Mrs. Stewart,” said Bernie. “And what do you think is so special about paper?”
“It’s called stationary and it has a beautiful farm scene at the top. Noticed her looking at it once but put it back really quick when she saw I noticed her interest.”
“It’s hard to spoil a woman with such practical interests,” said Bernie. “Can I afford it?”
“Five cents to you, Bernie,” said Henry. He looked at his wife and smiled. You’re not the only one who can be generous, woman.”
“I reckon not.” She grabbed the booklet of fancy paper and tucked a pencil inside. “I’ll wrap this for you. It should set her in the proper mood for your evening out.”
“Off to the blacksmith. My horse needs her shoe fixed.” Bernie waved as he headed for the door. “Be back shortly.”
Bernie led his horse to the blacksmith shop and Abram was heating his iron on the fire. He showed him Blaze’s hoof and he whistled. “Easy fix, mister. Have I met you?”
“Bernie Drysdale is the name. I’m helping the widow Rimes out at the farm ‘til spring.”
“Right neighborly. Anyone who knows Janelle knows she ain’t got money to pay you.”
“But she cooks mighty fine meals and the straw bed in the barn is cozier than the open trail.”
“Got a point there.”
Bernie snooped around to pass the time while the man worked on Blaze’s shoe.
“Almost done,” called Abram.
Bernie returned and struck up a conversation. “Anything exciting happening around town these days?”.
“The usual – but, no, come to think of it, your boss was mentioned in the saloon last night.”
“Janelle? Who’d be talking about her in the drinking hole?”
“Some cowhand. Comes in now and then from the Silver Aspen Ranch. The scoundrel drinks and spouts off his mouth too much fer my liking. Just before he left, he started bragging about it being high-time he got himself hitched. Said he had him a woman waiting fer him.”
That got Bernie’s attention. “Did you hear his name – was it, Sam?”
“Yeah, that’s the fella. Sam Spalding.”
“Are you done now?” Bernie dug in his pocket for a coin. “I’m in a hurry.”
One final tap and he let the horse’s hoof to the ground. “Done.” He took the payment and Bernie led the horse outside.
He rode to the mercantile, picked up his package and hit the trail toward home. Strange how good it felt to think of any place on God’s green earth as home. He lifted his head to the sky and prayed for Janelle’s safety as he pushed Blaze into a full gallop. The snow on the road was sticky and easy for his horse to grip. Blaze had no problem giving him all the speed he needed. He hoped that Sam’s ranting about getting a bride was someone other than Janelle, but seriously doubted it. When he turned into the lane and saw no activity in the yard he figured to check in the house before returning to work on broken fences.
He knocked first, then popped his head inside the cabin. “Janelle?” No answer. Opening the door wide, he scurried in. The dishes from breakfast lay dirty and piled close to the wash pan. The empty skillet sizzled with charred remnants of sausage. He pushed it off to the cool side of the stove and yelled again. “Janelle!” Still no answer. He groaned aloud when he saw the state of her bedroom. It was a mess, not at all like Janelle for she was fussy-clean.
Bernie raced to the henhouse and stopped abruptly a few feet from the building. Her basket and broken eggs lay splattered on the ground. This is where he’d confronted her. The scoundrel somehow knew she’d be alone and chose this time to abduct her. At the top of his lungs he yelled, “Janelle!” but his voice came back to rip open the fear growing in his heart. Bernie noticed a second set of bigger footprints beside Janelle’s daintier ones. There’d been a scuffle. Bernie’s arms tensed by his side and his fists tightened.
He retraced their steps back to the hitching post where he’d left Blaze. Only then he noticed the other set of prints; two horses. He’d brought one for her to ride. At least she wasn’t squished close to him on the same saddle. She’d be grateful for that small mercy. As he turned to mount Blaze, he noticed the dirtied chunk of bread that probably dropped from her skirt during her quick departure. Bernie slowly plodded toward the tree line, following the hoof-prints. He noticed the twigs broken where they’d entered the denser foliage.
Bernie kept watchful eyes peeled to the ground as he inched forward. He did not want to get off course so early in the tracking. He thought of the horror Janelle must be experiencing, hopefully just in her mind and not as a result of Sam’s abuse. The burly man would gain control of his victim fast for she was a small build and not strong after her recent sickness. When Sam’s name came up for discussion, Bern
ie had noticed the fear hiding behind her show of courage. Bernie wished he could wipe that fright away forever, if she’d just let down her guard and give him a chance.
The trail opened onto a wider path and he noticed a bird pecking away at a piece of bread. Janelle’s bread. Could she be leaving him a trail? With no chance of taking a wrong turn he quickened his pace. Soon he came to a fork and pulled on Blaze’s reins and slipped to the ground in one motion. Lead rope in hand, he started down one path and lost the prints. He backtracked and moved down the other side and within the first couple feet he saw a torn piece of clothing hanging loosely in a tree. He grabbed it off and thought it resembled the pattern of Janelle’s work coat. The woman was brilliant. He glanced at the ground ahead and in one of the imprints in the ground he noticed the bread. He almost chuckled aloud.
“I got this, Janelle. Hang on, honey, I’m on the way,” he whispered into the quiet forest.
Bernie slid his foot into the stirrup then flung his leg over the saddle, urging Blaze to ride forward. Every time a split in the trail happened along, he found a clue, either bread or torn material, to keep him advancing in the right direction. This was the easiest tracking he’d ever done. Sam Spalding better watch his step with Janelle Rimes. Even without her rifle, she was a force to be reckoned with.
Chapter 11
“That should hold ‘til I get back,” Sam said with a final grunt. Just dragging supplies and tying Janelle to a chair wore the scoundrel out. His foul whiskey breath nauseated her and she turned her face away. “Now don’t go doing that. I’m trying to be nice, don’t want to spoil that purty face. Plumb forgot about eating and I’m near starved.”
“How can I cook anything tied to this chair?”
“This is yer wedding feast. Wouldn’t dream of having you cook yer own supper. This once I’ll feed you then you can take over for the rest of my life.”
From Mourning to Joy Page 8
