His Prairie Princess (Prairie Brides)

by Kit Morgan

  After a few more minutes, Harrison took another quick look at the dark line of pine that bordered the prairie. It was snowing harder now, but not so much he couldn't see the light of a lantern flash through the trees.

  They were coming.

  He had a good head start, but maybe not enough. They could still possibly see him. Taking the woman to Doc Waller then, was out of the question. His mare Juliet would never make the extra miles to town if he pushed her much harder. He wished he’d taken his brother’s stallion, Romeo. For him the race across the open prairie would be no problem. But Harrison had set out to get the mail, not rescue a damsel in distress!

  He could still lose them by disappearing into the gentle rolling landscape of the prairie. The outlaws wouldn’t be able to keep a steady eye on him. Unfortunately, Harrison wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on them either.

  He stopped to take in his surroundings. The farm was closer. Juliet could make it with no problem and at least his stepbrothers and father would be there. They could help protect the woman. Maybe.

  Help from those three depended on how much they’d been drinking. In fact, the more he thought about it, he might have to protect her from his stepbrothers and father as well. None of them had been around a woman in a long time and the only soiled dove in the area was indisposed. The others had been run out of town, which left the one, and not a very good one at that.

  Harrison groaned at the thought and took off again, this time toward home. He prayed as Juliet naturally picked up her pace. It was a simple prayer: Father, please forgive me for what I must do. And please Lord, tell this woman to forgive me too.

  * * *

  Sadie tried to open her eyes. The effort was painful. In fact, every part of her body was pained. Her limbs ached and her head felt like it was about to explode. Where was she? The last thing she could remember was ...

  Hmm, she didn’t seem to have any memory at all. Probably because the effort it took to think hurt. Perhaps she should figure out where she currently was instead of where she’d been.

  Sadie tried to move but found she was held in place. She was on her back that was certain, it was dark and she could smell hay. In fact, she was not only laying on it, she was covered with it. Sadie tried to roll over, move, anything. But couldn’t. It was then she realized she was still bound and gagged.

  Oh Lord no! The stagecoach, the outlaws, the ...rescue? Is that what happened? The man, where was the man who freed her from the chair? She must have fainted. But how long does a faint last? And where was she now? She vaguely remembered being carried through the dark. And the cold. She remembered the cold. In fact she was still cold but not like before. And why was she still tied up if she’d been rescued? And why did her head feel like it was about to shatter like glass?

  A door creaked and groaned. Sadie froze. If I’m about to die, Lord, let it be quick. I feel terrible enough as it is.

  Booted footsteps, if she heard right. A man. There was a rustle of hay and before she could even scream into the gag he was on her. But he didn’t grab her as she expected, instead he was very gentle and removed the hay covering her. He then stood and lit a lantern. His back to her, she quickly studied him as he hung the lantern on a peg. He was tall and broad like some of her father’s cowhands. She could tell by his muscular frame he knew hard work. His hair was a sable brown, much like her own, and just reached the collar of his coat. When he turned his dark eyes widened as he looked at her. No, notat her. Into her. Right into her very soul. It made her feel incredibly vulnerable. Being helplessly bound upon on a bed of hay certainly didn’t help.

  “You’re awake.” He whispered. “I wasn’t sure if you would be. Your head ... I’m so sorry, but it took quite a blow.”

  Her eyes widened. He had an accent. Who was this man? She struggle briefly in her bonds but the pain stopped her.

  “Oh! Let me help you.” He reached behind him and pulled out a huge knife. Sadie automatically shook her head.

  “No, I won’t hurt you. I’m here to help. I do apologize for not untying your earlier.” He very gently pulled her up to a sitting position. Her head swam and she fell against his shoulder as he reached behind her and began to cut the rope binding her wrists. She belatedly realized she was wrapped in several blankets. No wonder she wasn’t as cold as before.

  “I’ll free you but you must promise me to stay calm. I cannot help you if you scream and start to panic, understand?”

  He was warm, and didn’t smell as before. He had to be the same man who took her from the outlaw’s cabin. He spoke with the same odd accent and still had the scent of livestock on him. Particularly pig. She knew the smell. She had pet pigs at home.

  The ranch. Her father ... Sadie moaned.

  “There, there. You’ll be all right.” He tossed the rope aside and took a moment to study her in the soft lantern light. His eyes widened and she heard his breath catch. He collected himself then quickly began to untie her ankles. Sadie let herself fall against him as he worked, too tired to care about the contact. He was wonderfully warm. The sensation brought comfort and helped ease the pain that throbbed through out her entire body.

  He returned her to a sitting position. “You promise you won’t scream?”

  She nodded. It hurt.

  He reached behind her head and untied the bandana. She nearly choked when he removed it, her stomach suddenly sick. She must have looked the same for he quickly took her in his arms and cradled her against him.

  “You’re going to be all right,” he said gently as he looked down into her eyes. “I’ll take you to town to see the doctor and then we can find the sheriff. He should be back by now. He’s been hunting an outlaw gang. Possibly the same ones that kidnapped you. Would you like some water?”

  She stared back. His face was bent over hers, his eyes covering her with a warmth no amount of blankets could produce. It was a look she had never seen before and couldn’t quite put a name to. She licked her dry lips. “Water ...”

  Without taking his eyes off her, he reached behind himself and grabbed a small canteen, opened it, and held it to her lips. “Here, not too much. Take little sips.”

  She took little gulps instead. It was a mistake. She immediately turned and retched into the hay.

  “No problem! No, not at all! Let me help you.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket, poured some water onto it, and cleaned her face as if it was the most natural thing he could do.

  “I dare say, but you’re in a bad way. I’ve got to get you to Doc Waller.”

  Sadie looked at him. “Who are you?” she croaked.

  “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. Harrison Cooke, at your service. And you are?”

  “Sadie Jones,” came out a raspy whisper.

  “Would you like to try some more water? Perhaps just rinse your mouth this time? Then a little sip.”

  She did as he suggested. It was better. The water stayed down.

  “You’ve been through a horrible ordeal Miss Jones. I’m terribly sorry you’ve suffered so.”

  She looked him over with what strength she had left. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to help you, of course.”

  “No. I mean, what are you doing here in Oregon territory? Where are you from?”

  Oh, that. Yes, well I hail from Sussex, originally. We came over twelve years ago.”

  “An Englishman?” Sadie whispered and put a hand to her head to still the throb there.

  “Here now, lie back. There’s a good girl. I’m going to get the wagon ready and take you to Doc Waller.”

  “What happened to me?” She asked as the room began to spin.

  “You were kidnapped by outlaws. I rescued you and brought you here.”

  “To a barn?”

  “Er, yes. A barn. Trust me, it’s much better than the alternative. We’d best see to your head now.”

  He gently re-covered her with the blankets. He then poured more water on the handkerchief, folded it, and placed it on her
forehead. The cool cloth felt good. Sadie closed her eyes, her body heavy with exhaustion. Sleep began to pull at her, his voice like soft silk against her raw nerves. “Now, princess, let’s see about getting you to the doctor.”

  Three

  Harrison wanted to kick himself for the forward statement. “Princess?” he mumbled as he tucked the blankets around her. She had fallen asleep quickly. Perhaps too quickly even considering her ordeal. He knew of this sort of thing. And it was dangerous for someone to drift in and out. He watched it happen to his own father. But when his father drifted off to sleep after hitting his head in a carriage accident, he never woke up again. Harrison had to hurry.

  But despite his need to get the woman to town, he couldn’t help but take a few scant seconds to study Miss Sadie Jones. Her dark lashes were long and beautiful against her pale skin. Her lips a delicate pink color. A lock of her hair had fallen across her face as he laid her back upon the hay. He gently brushed it away, reveling in the softness of her cheek. She was beautiful. Perhaps calling her ‘princess’ was appropriate. She looked like one. A sleeping beauty he could awaken with a kiss.

  He let go a shaky breath and finally tore his gaze away. His stomach suddenly knotted with a pang of unfamiliar emotion, one much different than when he’d seen her tied to a chair. That was anger at the outlaw's cruel treatment of her. This was something else entirely. This was possession. A deep, hard, possession that rose up with incomprehensible force as he knelt beside her. It scared him.

  The outlaws intended to harm her in the worst possible way. If he hadn’t decided to go meet the stage then set out after the mailbag, she’d be dead. That scared him even more.

  He chuckled to himself as he stood. His sleeping princess hadn’t been saved by a kiss, but a piece of mail intended to save his brothers. Something Harrison still needed to attend to. But he had to take care of Miss Jones first. She was still in danger from her injury not to mention the outlaws. At least until they were safely behind bars. Harrison vowed to make sure the scum wouldn’t get anywhere near her in the mean time, even if it meant putting them behind bars himself.

  But it wasn’t only the outlaws he needed to protect her from. He had to hurry and get to town before his stepbrothers and father discovered her in the barn. They were just as bad, maybe even worse. They’d been drinking heavily that night.

  Harrison walked to an old trunk where his gun belt lay, picked it up and put it on. He then went to hitch up the wagon to take his sleeping princess to safety.

  * * *

  Sadie awoke to the steady jangle of harness and hoof beats crunching on the snow. It was cold. Bitterly so, at least to what parts of her were exposed. Her face mostly. The rest of her was wrapped in a couple of quilts and blankets from the barn. She blinked her eyes a few times against the morning light before she could see. The sun was coming up to her left, the sky a dark blue. They had to be heading north into Clear Creek and the doctor.

  She again lay on a bed of hay and was glad for it. Its softness helped to cushion her aching body from the ruts in the road. She was going to have to figure out what to do once they got to town. She would have to talk to the sheriff of course, let the doctor tend her. And then inquire about her mother. She must still be alive. She had to be! And after she found her, Sadie would send word to her father. That wasn’t going to be pleasant no matter how she looked at it. At least she would have time with her mother before the famous Horatio Jones came riding into town like a hurricane to whisk her back to his cattle kingdom. But Sadie would insist they take her mother with them. She couldn’t bear it if her mother was still deathly ill and her father turned his back on her. He’d done that once already.

  She knew the story. Only a few months ago Maria, their family cook, told her everything. Maria had been with the Jones family since Sadie’s father was a boy and remembered his trip to El Paso before his engagement. The trip was planned to sow his wild oats before being roped into matrimony. A few years later however, it became evident his new wife was barren. It was also quite evident Horatio Jones had a daughter. Or so said a letter he received saying if he had any interest in the babe to come get her. An El Paso Madame named Bess who was heading to the Oregon territory sent the letter. Her ‘girl’ wasn’t allowed to take the child. She’d let her keep the baby until it came time to leave. But if the girl wanted to keep her job, she’d have to get rid of it. Thankfully Bess had a soft spot for the child and knew who the father was. When he’d sowed his wild oats it had been with a merchant’s daughter. The act ruined her. Outcast by her family she fell to Bess and became a fine addition to her establishment, but it didn’t take long to figure out she was pregnant. If she hadn't been such a beauty, Bess would have thrown her to the streets. But she was popular, an asset. She’d be worth her weight in gold along the trail and in Oregon territory where women were far and few between. Men would pay good money to have her. Lots of it. The child would only complicate things.

  Of course, Horatio Jones had no idea Sadie knew her true origins. Both he and her stepmother Ellie told her she was orphaned by her birth mother when she joined a wagon train to Oregon. That Horatio had rescued her and brought her home to be raised by the childless couple was true. They left out the part about her mother being a whore and her father’s hand in it.

  “We’re almost there. Are you feeling better?”

  Sadie turned her head slightly. Her own rescuer was out of her line of vision, but she heard him well enough. “A little. Can we go to the sheriff first?”

  “Good Lord, no! “You’re in no shape to see the sheriff just yet. I’m taking you straight to Doc Waller.”

  His manners surprised her, his British accent charming. He was a delightful contrast to the usual rough and dirty cowhands around the ranch. And though he looked the part of a rough cowhand or farmer, he certainly didn’t act or speak like one.

  He stopped the wagon in front of a small, two story whitewashed house at the edge of town. She took in Clear Creek as he carefully helped her out of the wagon and carried her toward the house. The town was made up of one street and had not more than a half dozen buildings on either side. There was a Livery stable at the far end, a few small houses at the other. There wasn’t even a church or school house that she could see. It was a far cry from Texas and the busy streets of nearby El Paso. Though used to ranch life, going to 'town' at least meant some sort of civilization. Even though she’d given civilization up coming to the Oregon territory, she still longed for the occasional bustle of a nearby city.

  Her rescuer carried her to the door and tapped it with his boot. She heard footsteps approach on the other side and the door opened. “Harrison Cooke! What have you got there?” A tall, thin, older woman asked. “Quick now, bring her in before the wind gets into my bones.”

  He carried Sadie into the house. Warmth immediately wrapped itself around her. The smell of fresh baked bread, bacon and coffee did the same. Sadie’s stomach rumbled louder than the outlaw’s had the night before. She blushed a deep red at the noise.

  “Heavens, what a sound! When was the last time you ate, child?”

  Harrison gently set Sadie on her feet but didn’t completely let go. “If my guess is right, not since yesterday morning.” he answered for her. “She was on the stage when it was robbed.”

  The woman gasped and took her from his arms. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

  “I think I’m all right now. But I am terribly hungry. And cold.”

  “Let’s get you some food then. The bread just came out of the oven and the kitchens nice and warm.” She began to steer Sadie toward the wonderful smell of food. “You’ll find Mr. Waller out back, Harrison. Best go fetch him.”

  He tipped his hat and hurried out the door. The woman led Sadie down a short hall to the kitchen. She settled her at the table then got her a cup of coffee. Sadie took it gratefully and held the cup between her hands to let the warmth sink in. It was heaven.

  “Your name, child.” The woman stated rathe
r than asked as she began to slice the bread.

  “Sadie. Sadie Jones.”

  “Mrs. Waller. But everyone around here calls me Grandma.”

  “Everyone?”

  “Yes, everyone. I’m the oldest living soul in town. Even older than Mr. Waller. Settled here when our wagon broke down, along with a few other families including Harrison and the rest of that brood of Cooke's. Been here a good eight years now I think.”

  “What brought a family of English out west?”

  The woman stopped slicing a moment. “Harrison’s father died in St. Louis. Him and his wife and sons came out west to raise cattle. But the father got himself killed in some sort of accident. The mother re-married to survive I suppose, and brought her three boys out here along with Jefferson Cooke’s two sons. Harrison was probably seventeen at the time.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Came from Kansas. Mr. Waller put it in his head to do his doctoring in Oregon City. But this is as far as we got. We both fell in love with the prairie and nearby mountains. It’s not like Kansas prairie mind you, but we knew we had to stay. Here, have some bread and bacon. You must be half starved.”

  She set a plate in front of her. Sadie had to keep her self from wolfing down the food as Harrison returned with the doctor. They headed straight for her. Doc Waller, a wiry little man with white hair, stopped up short, his mouth half opened, and stared.

  Sadie looked from one man to the other. What could be wrong? Harrison wasn’t looking at her so strangely.

  Doc Waller glanced to his wife then back to Sadie. Now both studied her with interest.

  “It’s her head I’m concerned about, doc. She took a frightful hit.” Harrison said, interrupting their scrutiny.

  “For Heaven’s sake, child,” Mrs. Waller began as she handed Harrison a cup of coffee. “Why didn’t you say something? A head injury can be dangerous!”