by Zina Abbott
“Does Papa know?”
Mima shook her head no. “I wanted to ask you about it first, Kizzie. Your father is already shaken over everything that took place yesterday.”
“Mama, that varmint I shot at was a man. He was one of the bullwhackers from the freight wagons. He snuck up on me and tried to steal Sugarcone. I shot at him when tried to grab me. When he still wouldn’t let go of Sugarcone’s reins, that’s when I sliced his wrist with the knife.” A plea in her eyes, Kizzie once again looked between her mother and grandmother. “Please don’t tell Papa. I got away from him okay. Well, I had some help from a Mr. Jones. He’s a guard on the freight train because his father owns several of the wagons. His horse kept bothering Sugarcone, but other than that, he was nice enough. He and Mr. Gray Cloud.”
“Mr. Gray Cloud?”
“He’s part Kaw. He’s their scout. He and Mr. Jones thanked me for telling them about the Indian uprising since they are going west to Pike’s Peak and will be traveling through Cheyenne territory.”
“Kizzie, I don’t like keeping things from your father…”
Kizzie interrupted. “Mama, I’m safe. The man scared me, but he didn’t hurt me. You know how Papa can get. Please don’t make trouble for me over something that is already past. He finally stopped fussing at me and admitted it was brave of me to come find him and Uncle Jefferson. Please don’t ruin that for me.”
Mima heaved a sigh as she dropped the knife in the pan of dishwashing water. “I won’t for now, Kizzie. Hopefully we won’t run into any more trouble. If you don’t mind, I’ll keep the knife with me in the back of the wagon.”
Before they knew it, the men were hurrying the Atwell women to load everything in the wagon so they could continue their journey. Kizzie, the pepperbox gun in her pocket, helped her mother and grandmother, then climbed onto the wagon bench and grabbed the reins. She was glad she still had her gloves from the day before. Following her father’s direction, she pulled their wagon into line to continue the journey to Junction City.
Normally Kizzie would have argued in favor of wearing her Grandpa Palmer’s old hat, the one she had worn the previous day. Instead, that morning she had put on the sunbonnet her mother preferred she wear. For one thing, it would be more acceptable to the other women in the wagon train, even though Kizzie noticed a few of them wore old slouch hats instead of bonnets.
Kizzie’s real reason for donning the bonnet was because she knew they would probably pass the freight wagon. She wanted the brim to hide her face. Tucker was no doubt conscious and might be on the lookout for her. She hoped between being dressed in a gown and sunbonnet, not to mention driving a wagon instead of riding a horse, he would not recognize her if he saw her. Thankfully, Sugarcone was safe in Junction City.
Chapter 6
The freight wagons had moved just past the bridge over Chapman Creek when it pulled off the trail and settled in for the midday break. Leander had agreed with the heads of the other freighting outfits that with the Army patrol on its way to defend Salina, it was best that they keep traveling. Hopefully, once the town was deemed safe, the soldiers would continue further west in pursuit of the hostiles. There was no point in the freight wagon holding back at that point. To the contrary, it was to their advantage to stay close to the Army patrol for protection for as long as they could until the patrol decided to return to the fort.
Leander had traveled with Charlie several miles towards Salina. The cloud of dust before them signaled that some of the wagons heading towards Junction City were in front of them. Leander decided to check on the wagon train while Charlie continued forward alone to scout out the region up to where the Solomon River joined with the Smoky Hill River.
Leander sat on Thunder next to the road as the wagons passed. He soon realized he was really looking for the young woman who had captured his interest the day before. Leander felt surprised when he realized how much he anticipated seeing Kizzie Atwell again.
It was her father and uncle he saw first. The two men riding close to the Atwells were obviously men, one older, and one who must be the younger brother Miss Kizzie had no intention of allowing the upper hand. Leander smiled at the thought as his eyes surveyed the wagons searching for her.
Then he saw her. She drove one of the wagons. The first was driven by a man about Leander’s age. The second by an older woman who looked like she could take on the whole Cheyenne nation by herself and whip them. The third wagon, though, that was the one driven by a slender girl dressed in a faded blue gown and yellow sunbonnet that hid her face. However, there was no hiding the slender but feminine form sitting straight on the bench, turned slightly away from the freight train as her hands encased in her leather gloves controlled the leads.
Leander pulled his eyes from the sight and glanced at the wagon belonging to Tucker. The man had awakened the previous afternoon with a crippling headache. After he had stumbled into camp, the others in his outfit had helped bind his head and wrist while he spouted his venom about the young woman who had attacked him. Leander knew the man still nursed a hangover, and probably the results of a mild concussion. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to the young woman just in case Tucker might recognize her.
Assuming Charlie was right, thank goodness the girl’s father had boarded the horse in Junction City. Leander doubted it was because Kizzie had told her father about her run-in with Tucker. The horse Tucker definitely would recognize. The last thing Leander wanted to deal with was a repeat of the previous day’s tussle over the mare.
Once the wagon train of Salina refugees had passed and the dust started to settle, Leander finished a cold lunch before he found his lead bullwhacker to tell him he would be gone for several hours. He suggested giving the oxen another hour to rest and graze, then to start the wagons towards Salina. Leander hoped to get the freight train past the community of Abilene mid-afternoon so there would be no temptation for the men like Tucker to stop and cause trouble.
Leander alternated Thunder between a walk and a gentle lope until he could see the refugees ahead. He held the stallion back so they didn’t eat much of the dust from the wagons. Once Leander saw the wagons form a circle for security and the people begin to settle in for the rest of the day, he made his way to the Atwell wagons. Now was the time to see if Miss Kizzie Atwell was as excited to see him again as he was to see her.
Kizzie scowled as she watched Leander Jones ride his stallion up to her wagon. She figured she had seen the last of him the previous day. Instead, it was obvious he had followed them to the outskirts of Junction City. Here he was, nodding at her with a smile that almost rivaled Charlie Grey Cloud’s for wide and toothy. He extended his hand towards her father for a handshake like they were long-time friends. She watched the man’s stallion dance in place, still full of life in spite of traveling over fifteen miles. She had to admit Thunder was a beautiful stallion. However, considering he had misbehaved so badly around Sugarcone, Kizzie did not welcome him.
Kizzie waited impatiently for the man to leave. Once the wagons and her family were settled, she hoped to convince her papa to take her to the livery to drop off the horse Jesse now rode so she could pick up her mare.
Kizzie climbed out of the wagon as soon as she saw her father and Leander Jones dismount. Why was the man hanging around? She loosened the strings to her bonnet and let it fall against her back. She brushed loose strands of her dark wavy hair back from her face as she approached, arriving about the same time as her uncle and cousin Otto on his horse.
Leander’s smile widened even more at Kizzie’s approach. “Good afternoon, Miss Atwell. I’m happy to see you are reunited with your family. Your father and I were just discussing your mare.”
Kizzie’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What about Sugarcone?”
Sidney stepped over and patted his daughter on the shoulder. “Now, Kizzie, this is men’s talk. Why don’t you see if you can help your mother while we continue?”
“If this is about Sugarcone, it c
oncerns me. Sugarcone is my horse.”
Sidney cleared his throat. “Now, Daughter, I know I gave Sugarcone to you, and she is yours to take care of and ride. But, you realize, surely, that since you are a young woman not of age that I am the legal owner of the horse. It is up to me to decide what is best.”
Kizzie jammed her fists to the side of her waist and stamped her foot. “No, Papa! She’s mine. You gave her to me and you can’t take her away. I want to know what you’re planning.”
Leander stepped forward, his expression now serious. “Miss Atwell, did your father tell you what happened at the fort after you left?”
Kizzie turned to stare at Leander. He had her full attention. If something had happened at the fort after she rode away that affected Sugarcone, she needed to know. Why hadn’t her father said anything to her? Kizzie glanced quickly at her father before she turned back to Leander. “No, Mr. Jones, my father neglected to tell me. Although, Uncle Jefferson did say something yesterday about telling that soldier Sugarcone was in foal, which is ridiculous, since we have not had her bred yet. What happened?”
“First of all, Miss Atwell, you need to understand my family has helped supply both Fort Riley and other forts, so we have had dealings with Capt. Prescott before. He can be very determined about getting what he wants. So, even though you rode off on Sugarcone as soon as you knew he wanted the horse for his cavalry, doing so did not deter him from his goal. After all, your father was still there and Capt. Prescott had just had dealings with him regarding your family’s cattle. He knew you and the horse were connected to him.”
Forehead creased in a frown, Kizzie turned to her father. “Only if you told him, Papa. Why did you say you knew me?”
Sidney’s mouth twitched side to side as he sought how to best answer. “He saw us speaking. He may have even seen you give me a hug. I wasn’t going to deny you, Daughter, although the captain still thinks you’re a young man. Mr. Jones spoke to him and provided a solution agreeable to all.”
Kizzie turned her attention back to Leander but she still spoke to her father. “What did Mr. Jones have to do with this, Papa? He had no business talking about either me or Sugarcone.”
“I apologize if I discomfited you, Miss Kizzie. I suspected the loss of your horse would hit you hard. You had already ridden her hard that day, and especially after that run-in with…”
Kizzie quickly interrupted. “You mean that run-in with the varmint that spooked Sugarcone?”
Leander hesitated. He smiled with the realization that Kizzie had not yet told her father about her encounter with Tucker. What was more, she did not want Sidney to know about it. “Ah…yes…your encounter with the varmint. I tried to think of something that would help you keep your horse. I told Capt. Prescott Sugarcone is in foal.”
Kizzie stamped. “How dare you talk to anyone about Sugarcone, especially to say something like that?”
Leander’s face turned pink as he cleared his throat and continued. “That’s what I told him. I also told him he would be wise to not kill off good breeding stock, that once the foal is dropped and it gets big enough, your father…or you…could train it and sell that one to the Army.”
Kizzie’s voice grew hoarse with emotion. “But, even if Sugarcone was in foal, I don’t want to sell any of Sugarcone’s babies to the Army.”
“I know. But, realistically, Miss Atwell, people across this nation are forcefully having their livestock requisitioned by the Army for the war—for both the rebellion of the Southern states and the Indian wars. You won’t be able to save all your horses, especially with a fort so close and others being planned further west along the trail. You need to be smart about this. If you want to save at least some of them, you must decide which horses mean the most to you and be willing to sacrifice the rest. As it was, the captain next turned his attention to my stallion. The only way I could appease him was to promise to sell him two geldings sired by Thunder.”
Kizzie shook her head. “Now he has your two geldings, he doesn’t need Sugarcone.”
“He’ll still want her. Knowing Capt. Prescott, he will make a point to come by your farm to do business with your father. If in six months he doesn’t see evidence Sugarcone is in foal, or if in a year if he doesn’t see a new foal prancing around your corral, he will take your horse. I know I told an outright lie to save your horse, but it’s kind of like young couples in love who…uh…well, sometimes there is a quick wedding…”
Sidney interrupted. “I don’t think this is proper conversation for my daughter, Mr. Jones.”
“It’s all right, Papa. I’m not that naïve. I know about quick weddings and babies that come a little too early.”
Sidney shook his head. “Daughter, Daughter.”
Leander cleared his throat. “I sort of figure like those are cases where a couple got things backwards, but made things right in the end. That is what I think we should do here. You do know Sugarcone is in season, don’t you, Miss Atwell? That is why Thunder behaves the way he does around her.”
Kizzie stared at him for several seconds before her shoulders slumped and she lowered her eyes with embarrassment. “You’re right. I know enough I should have recognized the signs. But Sugarcone is still young and has never been bred before. I didn’t want to believe she was ready for that.”
Leander responded kindly. “You’ve had a lot on your mind, Miss Atwell. However, I was the one who made the statement to the captain to save your horse for the moment. I consider it my obligation to make it the truth so you can keep her in the future. With yours and your father’s permission, of course.”
Worry lines creased Kizzie’s forehead as she studied Thunder. “But, your stallion is so much bigger than Sugarcone. I’m afraid she won’t be able to bear his weight. He’ll hurt her.”
Leander stepped forward again, seeking to reassure her. “I bred Thunder with two Indian ponies to get the two geldings I told you about. They were smaller than Sugarcone. I do want some men with me to help, because she will be skittish with this being her first time. I assure you, though, after Thunder does his part, she’ll be all right. I think a nice foal will come of it.”
Kizzie turned to Leander, her eyes meeting his.
Sidney cleared his throat. “Kizzie, I need you to let me finish talking business with Mr. Jones. You were dead tired last night, but your Uncle Jefferson and I discussed this after you were asleep. Getting Sugarcone in foal might be a good way to keep the Army from getting its hands on her. Depending on what Mr. Jones wants for a stud fee, using his stallion might be a good option. Now, don’t fight me on this, Daughter. Just step back and let me take care of this.”
Leander responded to Sidney, but his eyes never left Kizzie’s. “Since telling Capt. Prescott her horse was already in foal was my doing, all I ask from you is permission to visit your farm occasionally to check on the horses and spend time with your family. Whether we travel the Smoky Hill Trail or go to Santa Fe, I’ll be close enough to stop by several times a year.”
Kizzie continued to gaze into Leander’s eyes. She heard her uncle chuckle as he clapped his hand on her father’s shoulder. “She’s your daughter, Sidney, but I advise you to take the deal.”
What deal? Kizzie wondered. Why was all Leander Jones asking as a stud fee permission to visit their farm a few times a year? Was he interested in seeing her again? Was he only interested in Sugarcone and the foal she would produce? This was one of the few times in her life Kizzie didn’t know what to say.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her father stretch his hand out towards Leander. “It’s a deal, Mr. Jones. How soon do you want to take care of this?”
“As soon as possible. I want to catch the mare while she’s still in season. Besides, the freight train is already moving forward, and I need to catch up to it by the time it gets into Cheyenne territory west of Salina.”
“The horse is boarded in town. I don’t know if the livery has a breeding stall. If not, I’m sure we can arrange to use a corra
l. Tonight or tomorrow morning would be best since I hope we will get word soon it is safe to return home.”
“Tonight. If we hurry we can get it done before dark.” Leander looked around. “If both you Mr. Atwells feel you can leave your families, I could use your help…”
For the first time during the discussion, Otto spoke up. “I can go too. My brothers can help my mother and sisters.” Otto leaned over his horse and extended his hand. “Otto Atwell, Mr. Jones. I’m Jefferson’s son.”
Kizzie looked around her and realized all of the family now stood around witnessing the conversation. Prompted by her lifelong training, she introduced everyone to Mr. Jones. After all, if his stud fee called for visiting with her family, he might as well learn who they were. He also must have learned manners, for he politely responded with ease to each introduction.
“I suppose we better be on our way. Mr. Atwell, if you can guide me to this livery stable…”
“I’m going, Papa. I can show him. Sugarcone is my horse, and I intend to be there.”
“Now, Kizzie…”
Mima spoke up. “Kizzie, it isn’t very seemly for a young woman…”
Kizzie rounded on her mother. “Mama, it’s seemly for me to be present for anything to do with my horse.” Kizzie turned to Jesse. “Jesse, I need to ride the horse back to the livery. Please let me have her.”
“No! You have no business being around this, Kizzie. I’ll take the horse back.”
“I do too! It’s not like I’ve never seen it before. The only reason you men don’t want me there is you want to make rude comments about what is going on and to be able to compare yourself to the stallion like you did when Papa bred Peony.”
Mouth agape, Sidney turned to Kizzie. “What are you talking about, Kizzie. You weren’t there.”
“Yes, I was. You said Jesse could come and watch, but you told me to stay in the house. So I snuck out and watched from the other side of the barn. I saw what was going on and I heard all of you making a big joke of it. That’s when I knew why you didn’t want me there.”
