A Pioneer Christmas Collection

by Kathleen Fuller

  What was he looking for? Mattie’s heart pounded. Although she had hunted all types of wildlife, she’d never had to pull her gun or knife on another human. But she would. She had to protect her sisters.

  The man looked a few years older than her nineteen years. Rather than wear a western hat like many men in these parts preferred, he wore a round cap with a bill, and his coat was a style she wasn’t familiar with. He lifted his cap and forked his fingers through his black hair, which glistened in the morning sunlight like a raven’s wing. He dropped the cap back on his head and reined his horse in the direction she was hiding.

  Mattie held her breath as he rode within four feet of her. She didn’t fear that he’d see her, since her buckskin clothing blended well with the natural surroundings, but she was concerned he’d spot the tipi. He sat a moment, his gaze scanning the area. Did he sense someone was near? If he spotted one of them, would he harm them?

  She struggled to keep her breathing quiet when worry and concern made it come out ragged. The man clucked to his horse, and it moved forward—right down the path she’d taken to the creek. But he was riding away from the creek, straight toward their tipi.

  Conall Donegan guided his horse slowly up the trail that led through the wooded area. Something wasn’t quite right. The birds and insects he normally heard while hunting were silent, as if warning him of someone else’s presence. But other than an odd pattern of footprints, he hadn’t seen anything to make him think an intruder was on his property. He reined the bay gelding through the trees, and his heart nearly jumped from his chest at the sight he encountered. A tan tipi stood tall, well-hidden among the birch, cottonwood, and pine trees that grew thick in this area. He rode closer and searched the area but saw no signs of life. He started to dismount to peek inside the tipi, but then he noticed the same odd footprints he’d seen earlier, going in all directions—two different sizes of them. And near a tree sat a pile of pecans—half-cracked. People had been here quite recently.

  But where were they now? Were they hiding among the shrubs, watching him? He swallowed the lump in his throat and backed up his horse. He’d heard plenty of Indian tales, both good and bad, since settling in the Oklahoma Territory after the land rush, but Indians were not supposed to be in this area that had been called the Unassigned Lands. No Indians had settled in this part of the territory.

  He clucked to his horse and ducked as the gelding rode under a low tree limb. He needed to tell Brian about the squatters—if they were still around. He knew enough about Indians to know that those who lived in tipis were generally nomads—and nomads always took their tipis with them whenever they left an area. That meant either the Indians were still around or something had happened to them.

  Mattie waited a good while after the man rode off before she stood. A brilliant cardinal landed on the end of the log she sat beside. His drab-colored mate lighted on a nearby shrub; then, as if he’d signaled to her, they flew off in unison. The male’s red feathers stood out well against the browns of winter.

  Hunkering down, lest the man still be watching, she dodged from tree to tree. As she approached their camp, she finally straightened, convinced he was gone—and now they needed to pack up and leave.

  She whistled the call for “all clear” and gazed up in the oak tree, one of the few that was still clothed in a gown of russet leaves. Milly deftly climbed down and dropped to the ground. “Who do you think he was?”

  Shrugging, Mattie watched as Jessamine made her way down, at a slower pace than Milly, but almost as skillfully. The girl had been hiding in trees longer than she could walk.

  Jess swung onto the lower limb. Mattie turned toward the tipi, but Jess cried out. She spun back around, watching helplessly as her little sister fell sideways. Jess stuck out one leg, landed with a sickening crack, and then fell to the ground.

  Jess gasped and emitted a high-pitched squeal, just like an animal sometimes did when shot with an arrow. Mattie and Milly rushed to her side as Jess writhed on the ground.

  “Where does it hurt?” Milly ran her hands down Jess’s pant leg.

  “The other one. Oh…my ankle.” Jess reached for her leg, but Mattie pulled her hand back.

  Milly untied Jess’s moccasin, tossed it aside, then slid up her pant leg. “It’s swelling already.” She glanced at Mattie, shook her head, and mouthed, “Broken.”

  Standing, Milly turned to Mattie. “Let’s get her down to the creek. The cool water will help with the swelling and pain. Then I’ll mix up some chamomile tea while you sit with her.”

  Milly helped Mattie to lift Jess, and Mattie held her close, supporting the injured leg and hating that her little sister was in so much pain. The gun that was tied around Mattie’s neck and hid beneath her buckskin shirt, pressed hard against her chest.

  “It hurts.” Jess rested her head on Mattie’s shoulder. The girl rarely fussed, so the tears streaming down her face and her soft moans proved her discomfort.

  “I know, chickadee. I’m sorry.”

  “I want Papa,” Jess whimpered.

  Me, too. Mattie didn’t mind watching over her sisters for a short while when their father went hunting, but she didn’t know if she was capable of doing it forever. Jess’s injury and her own confusion about what to do for her sister were perfect examples of her shortcomings.

  Jess needed a doctor. Though Milly tended their cuts, scrapes, and other minor wounds, she’d never set a broken bone. Mattie shifted Jess higher. How could she carry the nine-year-old all the way to the creek? Maybe she should get one of the horses. She heard a sound in the woods behind her and turned around.

  Milly hurried from the tipi, holding her medical basket, teakettle, and tin of tea. “What are you waiting on? We need to soak Jess’s foot.”

  “Shh…listen. I hear voices.”

  The sound of something crashing through the brush behind Mattie made her turn. Her heart jolted. Though he hadn’t yet reached them, the man had returned—and he wasn’t alone.

  Chapter 2

  I promise it’s not blarney. I saw a tipi—and footprints.” Conall glanced at his brother Brian, but he could tell he didn’t believe him.

  “Then why did you not see any Indians?”

  “Like I said, they either were hiding, gone, or something happened to them.”

  “Ah now, I think you’re pulling my leg, as they say in these parts.” Brian grinned.

  A screech tore through the peaceful woods, and both brothers spun toward the eerie cry. “Sounds like they’re on the warpath.” Brian reached for the pistol in the holster on his hip.

  “Ah…so you believe me now, do you?”

  Conall nudged his horse to a trot. That cry had sounded more like someone in pain than an attack, and since he still hadn’t seen any Indians, he suspected his hunch was right. They rode down the path, and he saw the top of the tipi up ahead. He pulled his gun from his waistband, just in case. They broke through the trees, and he saw an Indian dressed in buckskin clothing holding a child in his arms.

  He reined his horse to a quick stop, as did Brian. The Indian wearing pants was a woman—a woman with long blond braids, blue eyes, and skin tanner than he’d ever seen on a white woman.

  He glanced at Brian. His brother twisted his mouth and shrugged.

  Squaws rarely traveled alone—he knew that much about Indians—so where were their men? Were these women captives who’d been stolen from their families at a young age?

  The squaw holding a basket and other items suddenly dropped them and shinnied up the nearest oak tree, faster than any cat he’d ever seen. He stared up into the branches, wondering what had inspired her to do such a thing. His sister wouldn’t be caught dead up a tree. Conall shook his head and dragged his gaze back to the other woman. His heart lurched. She no longer held the child but rather a gun—and it was aimed at him.

  “Conall.” Brian’s soft warning came too late.

  He lowered his weapon but kept it handy on his lap. “We don’t mean you any harm.�
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  Brian leaned over. “Maybe they don’t speak English.”

  The child moaned and grabbed her leg. Conall gazed at her swollen ankle. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was broken. He refocused on the woman who seemed to be in charge. “We’d like to help the girl. We have a cottage a short ways from here, and my sister is quite good at doctoring.”

  “And one of our closest neighbors is an old army doc,” Brian said. “He could help, too.”

  The tree rustled as the other woman climbed down and then dropped to the ground. Conall looked from one female to the other. Both were lovely, and there was no doubt these two were twins. They looked younger than Brian. In fact, he doubted they’d even reached twenty yet. What were they doing here?

  “The child is in pain.” Conall softened his voice, hoping they wouldn’t see him as a threat. “And we have laudanum.”

  The twin from the tree walked over to her sister and whispered in her ear. The woman with the gun scowled and shook her head.

  Conall glanced around, hoping to find some sign they had a man with them, but if not for the tipi, the items the woman dropped, and the pile of half-cracked pecans, he wouldn’t have known anyone had been living here. They must have kept the area clean for that purpose. “Do you have a man to take care of you?”

  The twin with the gun yanked her gaze back to his. Sharp blue-jay colored eyes assessed him. He smiled, but it didn’t ease her somber expression. She flicked the gun in the air, indicating for him to leave.

  He hated abandoning them when he knew they could help the child, but what more could he do if they didn’t want his help?

  “What if we go and get Glynna? Could be they’d be more willing to accept a woman’s assistance,” Brian said.

  “I don’t even know as they understood a word we said.”

  “Then we should go. It’s obvious they don’t trust us.”

  Conall blew out a sigh and nodded. He stuck his gun back into his waistband and looked at the woman again. “We have a cottage just a short ways from here. Follow this path, and it will take you there. Please come if you’d like us to help you.”

  Brian reined his horse back toward home. Conall sat there a moment longer, feeling like he was in a standoff. What were they so afraid of that they were willing to let the girl suffer?

  He turned his horse toward home. Maybe they wouldn’t accept his aid, but at least he could pray for them.

  Mattie kept an eye on the last man as Milly tugged on her sleeve. “Why didn’t you accept their offer?”

  Mattie snapped her gaze to her sister’s. Looking into Milly’s face was kindred to gazing into a mirror. “You know what Papa always told us—avoid men at all cost.”

  “But those two sounded kind—and they were quite handsome.” A rosy glow tinged Milly’s cheeks. “Don’t you think?”

  Blowing out a loud breath, Mattie ignored her sister’s pointless question. “Let’s get Jess to the creek.”

  “But if they know of a doctor…” Milly nibbled her lower lip. “I don’t know how to set a bone.”

  Mattie gave her sister a hug. “It might have all been a lie, just to get us to go along with them. Let’s get Jess to the creek, then I’ll follow the trail and see if it leads to a cabin.”

  “All right.”

  A short while later, Mattie stood at the edge of the tree line starring at a cabin. Behind it sat a barn, and all around were fallow fields. She followed the tree line around to the east side of the house. A privy sat between her and the cabin. If only she could get there without being seen. She lifted the twine that held the gun over her neck. Then with a final look around, she darted across the field. Her feet sunk in the soft earth, slowing her steps, but she made it to the back of the privy without anyone crying alarm.

  A door banged, and Mattie jumped. She peered around the side of the wooden structure, holding her breath. Even though it was December and cool out, the privy still reeked. The man she’d seen twice now stepped off the side of the porch.

  “And why did you not bring them here?” A woman followed the boss man into view.

  He walked along the side of the cabin, eating up the ground with his longlegged gait. The woman rushed to keep up.

  “Conall. Stop.”

  He spun around. “I already told you. Either they didn’t want our assistance, or they couldn’t understand what I was saying.”

  “So you just left them there, and with a hurting child?”

  “What more could I do, Glynna? Throw them on my horse and force them to come?”

  The woman’s irritation blew away like leaves in a strong gust. “Sure now, I’m sorry. It just pains me to know a child is hurting, and we could help. Maybe I should go to them?”

  “No! Not unless I take you.”

  Mattie bristled. Did he think she’d hurt the woman? Certainly not, unless she had a good reason to.

  She wished her father was here. He always dealt with any men who came to their camp while they all hid. Papa would know what to do.

  Jess’s whimpering still taunted her. Her little sister was brave and hadn’t cried, but she was suffering. If these people had laudanum, that alone could ease her pain. And if her sister’s ankle wasn’t set properly, would she be able to walk once it healed? The thought of her lively sister being forced to sit all day and never run or climb trees again twisted in her stomach like a knife.

  She leaned against the building. What should she do? Papa taught her the first rule was always to keep her sisters safe. If she allowed these people to help them, would she be compromising their safety?

  The man called Brian strode out of the barn, leading a different horse than he’d previously ridden. “I’m going over to Doc Scott’s place and see what he thinks.”

  “Try to bring him back.” The woman hurried over to the man’s side and rested her hand on his shoulder. “Maybe he can talk those women into letting him help the girl. He was a doctor in the army.”

  “We know that, Glynna,” the man with the horse said. “That’s why I’m going.”

  Milly thought they should trust the men, and she was usually a good judge of character. Heaving a sigh, Mattie hid her gun beneath her shirt and stepped out into the open.

  Three sets of eyes swiveled in her direction. The man who seemed the leader walked toward her, making no move toward the weapon resting in his waistband. He smiled, and she realized Milly was right. He was a handsome man, with that thick, curly dark hair and blue eyes. She wanted to trust him, but she’d never relied on a man other than her father or uncle before. She swallowed hard.

  “Good day to you.” The man tipped his cap. “I don’t believe I properly introduced myself earlier. I’m Conall Donegan; this here’s my sister, Glynna; and Brian, my wee brother.” Brian frowned, which made Mattie want to smile, but she fought to maintain a sober expression.

  “Have you come to ask our help with the child?”

  Mattie nodded. “Yes. She is my sister Jess.”

  Conall’s brows lifted. “So you do speak English?”

  Mattie scowled. Wasn’t that obvious since she’d just spoken to him?

  Brian strode forward. “I’m riding over to the doc’s right now. Bring your sister to the house, and we’ll meet you here. Glynna can care for her until we return.”

  Mattie searched the eyes of each Donegan, looking for signs of trickery or falsehood, but all three held the same open, friendly gaze. She felt certain she could trust this family. “We will stay at our camp. Bring the man to us.”

  She ducked back into the trees before they could object. It would be much easier on Jess not to have to ride all this way, and Mattie felt safer in woodlands.

  She could only hope she hadn’t made a terrible mistake.

  Chapter 3

  Mattie stared up at the dreary pewter sky. The air held the scent of rain. She needed to check on the horses—to move them to a new spot of winter grass, but her wooden legs refused to budge. Jess had cried out several times from inside the tipi
where the doctor was tending her, but all had been quiet for some time now.

  Mattie bent down and yanked free a stem of dried yellow grass and plucked seed after seed off. How long would it take that doctor to finish setting Jess’s ankle?

  Staring at the tipi, she wished she had stood her ground and stayed inside instead of abiding by the doctor’s request that only Milly assist him. Mattie forced her tense body to relax. Of course it should be Milly. Her sister knew far more about tending ailing folks.

  “Your sister will be fine.”

  Spinning around, she was surprised Conall Donegan had sneaked up on her. She rarely got so lost in thought that she was caught unaware, and that only increased her anxiety. What if he’d meant to harm her? Her father had warned her so many times to beware of men and to avoid them.

  He smiled, relieving her concerns, and his blue eyes lit up in an intriguing manner. He was much calmer than the other men she’d met, and worries rolled off him like rain on the oiled canvas of their tipi. “I’ve been prayin’ for your sister, and I believe the good Lord means to heal her leg.”

  “How do you know?” Her mother had been a praying woman and believed in God, but not her father. Mattie had tried talking to God on different occasions, but He never answered her requests, so she had quit asking for His help.

  Conall gazed at the sky. He wasn’t a stocky man but had wide shoulders that looked accustomed to hard work. He cleared his throat. “The Bible says to ‘ask and ye shall receive.’ ” He looked down again, his blue eyes capturing hers, and then he smiled, revealing his straight white teeth. “And I believe God’s Word.”

  Mattie’s heart flip-flopped. Conall Donegan was a handsome man and talked to her so freely. She’d rarely conversed with the men who visited their camp. Her father always dealt with them. Milly would serve them food and drink, while Mattie generally hid out in the trees with her Hawken rifle, keeping watch in case the men attempted to overpower her pa.