A Pioneer Christmas Collection

by Kathleen Fuller

  “Well, well, lookie what we have here, gents.”

  Conall followed Mattie’s moccasin prints for several minutes, but they suddenly stopped right in the middle of the path. Straightening, he looked around. Mattie couldn’t have just up and disappeared, but why did her footprints end? His cap caught on a low-hanging branch, so he reached up and tugged it free. He glanced at the branch for a moment then looked down. The limb stuck out over the path, and it was low enough that Mattie could have jumped up and caught a hold of it. Had she seen or heard something that scared her, causing her to climb to safety? And if she had, where was she now?

  He twisted his mouth to one side as the truth settled on him like a cold fog. She’d deliberately tried to lose him. He crossed his arms and heaved a loud sigh.

  “Fine then. If ye do not want my company, ye shall not have it.” He spun around and headed back home, irritated that he let Mattie get to him. A man had his pride, after all, and he had work that needed doing. He didn’t have time to chase after a stubborn loner who didn’t want him around.

  After several long strides, his steps slowed. Though his manhood had felt challenged by the intriguing, resourceful woman, he felt a tug—no something stronger—a compelling urgency to find her. He turned back. Had something happened to Mattie?

  Walking back down the path, he lifted his gaze upward. “Is that You, Lord? Are You tellin’ me that Mattie is in need of my help?”

  A fire lit in his gut, and he knew he had to find her. Back at the tree, he studied the branches. Mattie could have climbed through the limbs and dropped down on the other side. He worked his way through the tall, dried grasses and shrubs, walking in widening circles until he found what he was looking for. There. Mattie had dropped down, making heavier impressions in the dirt than when walking. The footprints were hard to follow in the grass, but there was a broken limb on a shrub and another footprint in a bare area, and then she picked up the trail again about a hundred yards from where she’d left it. He walked a short ways and passed several rabbit snares. Mattie’s flat footprints surrounded each trap. No wonder she caught so many rabbits. He studied the snare and knew that he could make one of his own; then he continued on. Mattie had veered off to the left for some reason and smashed down the short grass, leaving an easy trail to follow.

  Laughter echoed across the hills. Male raucous laughter. Conall froze, listening, trying to determine which direction the noise had come from. Goose bumps charged up his arms. If Mattie had stumbled across a group of men, she’d be defenseless. Hunkering down, he searched for several walnut-sized stones and shoved them in his coat pocket. He crept toward the voices.

  His gut clenched when he finally found her. A man held Mattie captive, but she thrashed and struggled, fighting him. The man yanked on one of her braids, and she cried out. She jerked her head back, colliding with his face. He yelled but didn’t lose his grip on her. Conall wanted to rush in and rescue her, but that could cause them both to be captured—or worse.

  He forced himself to study the scene. Best he could tell, there were three men, but one of them lay on the ground, not moving. Conall didn’t know how he could sleep through all the noise. The third man sat across the campfire, skinning rabbits, evidently content to watch the wrestling match between Mattie and his cohort.

  Conall wished he’d brought his rifle, but he wasn’t totally unarmed. He tugged his slingshot out of his pocket, loaded a stone in it, then jumped up. He made several quick swings, and just as he released the first stone, the man by the fire noticed him. Before he could react, the stone hit its mark. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he fell back.

  Chapter 6

  Mattie’s mind raced, searching for a way of escape, as she struggled with the man who held her. These men were the kind her father had warned her about. Men who took what they wanted and had no respect for women. Men who didn’t care who they hurt. Her head ached where she’d rammed the man’s face, and she was sure her ribs were close to breaking from his tight grip around her chest.

  Three horses tied to nearby trees pranced and snorted, disturbed by the ruckus. Mattie kicked her captor’s shin and struggled to break free. He yelped out a curse.

  Mattie knew if she didn’t get away soon, she’d run out of strength. She closed her eyes. Help! God, if You’re up there, help me.

  The man kissed the back of her neck. Chills marched down her arms, and she jerked her head forward. Her gaze landed on the man’s hand. Something her father taught her charged across her mind. One of her arms had broken free, and she reached down and yanked her captor’s little finger backward. He roared in pain, dropping her. The moment she hit the ground, she scrambled away and searched for the other men. The one she’d punched in the throat when he’d approached her still lay on the ground unconscious, but where had the other man gone?

  She dove toward the man on the ground and tugged his pistol out of the holster. Spinning around, she pointed it at the scoundrel who’d kissed her. Off to her right—glory be!—Conall stood, swinging one arm in a circle. The man who’d held her captive pulled out his own weapon but turned toward Conall. Mattie’s heart lurched. Something whizzed through the air and collided with the man’s forehead. He grimaced, his eyes rolled up in his head, and then he fell sideways. Jumping to her feet, she frantically searched for the third man. But like her captor, he too lay sprawled on the ground.

  Mattie lowered the pistol, every bone and muscle in her body shaking. She dropped to her knees. God had answered her cry for help. She was safe.

  Conall rushed to her side and pulled her up. His worried gaze roved her face, down the length of her body and back up. “Are you hurt?”

  His concern was her undoing. Tears blurred her view of the handsome man, and she fell against him. If he hadn’t come when he had… She couldn’t bear the thought. He hugged her close, brushing one hand over her mussed hair and murmuring soft comforting words. “You’re all right now. They can’t hurt you.”

  Shamelessly, she clung to him, so grateful to have someone else to lean on for a change. Her siblings meant more to her than anything, but being in charge, being the one who had to find food, shelter, and keep them safe, was exhausting. And now this frightening encounter.

  When she thought she could stand on her own, she turned loose of Conall, but instantly, she wished he’d pull her back into his arms. Never could she remember being so shaken, not even the day her mother died.

  “We must tie up these scalawags before they revive.”

  Mattie nodded. He was right. Forcing her feet into motion, she searched for a rope. She discovered one still tied to a saddle and tossed it to Conall. He dragged one man over to a tree and tied him up then did the same to a second one. The only other thing she could find to bind the third man were the reins from the horses’ bridles. She carried them over to Conall; then she poured some water from a canteen onto her hands and washed her face. She’d need a dip in the stream or the Donegans’ washtub to feel clean again.

  After all three men had been bound to different trees, Conall walked up to her and ran one hand down the side of her right arm. “Brian and I can return to collect these varmints and take them into Guthrie. Are you ready to head home?”

  She licked her lips. Home. If only she had one. A place to call home, not a tipi that could be hauled around from mountains to plains and back. The thought surprised her. Sleeping behind the locked doors of the Donegans’ cabin sounded so much safer than spending another night in her family’s tipi.

  “Mattie? Are you all right?”

  Glancing up at Conall, she pursed her lips and forced herself to nod. Then she ducked her head, not wanting him to know she hadn’t been totally truthful. Making a wide path around the rousing men, she collected her bow and quiver, and her rabbits, then hurried back to Conall’s side. The encounter with the scoundrels had shaken her more than she could ever have imagined. She looked around at the gray barren trees interspersed with a few dark green pines. Would she ever feel safe alone i
n the woods again?

  Mattie sat in a chair next to Jess’s bed and watched her sister stitch together two squares cut from rabbit pelts. “You’re doing a nice job.”

  Jess glanced up and smiled. “You think Glynna will like the pillow?”

  Mattie brushed her hand down one side of her little sister’s head. “She will love it, and it will mean all the more because you made it yourself.”

  Eyes gleaming, Jess nibbled her lower lip and took another cautious stitch. Finding tasks to keep her busy was becoming increasingly difficult now that her leg wasn’t paining her as much.

  Mattie stared at the cabin wall, longing to go hunting but afraid to do so. Since those men had attacked her a week ago, she hadn’t wandered any farther than the Donegans’ barn to collect her horses and tie them to trees near some winter grass. Even then, when she was close to the tree line, her heart raced and hands shook. One time when she heard a crack in the woods, she nearly ran all the way back to the cabin.

  She clenched her fist. She hated feeling vulnerable. Hated how she was afraid to walk in the woods that had always been her refuge. How was she to overcome her fear? When Jess could walk again, they would leave the Donegans, even though Glynna had invited them to stay the winter.

  If she didn’t get Milly away soon, she never would. Mattie shifted on the hard wooden chair. She found sitting on soft furs on the ground much more comfortable. And though the cabin’s bedroom was less drafty, it was chillier than sitting in the cozy tipi with a fire going, except on rainy nights. The heat from the stove didn’t reach into this room unless the door remained open.

  The soft padding of Milly’s moccasins drew her gaze to the door. Her sister smiled as she sashayed toward them in the dark green calico Glynna had given her, the ruffles of her petticoats peeking out every now and then. Her hair, no longer braided, was done up in a knot on the back of her head. Mattie sighed. If not for the moccasins, Milly’s transformation to farm woman would be complete.

  Dropping down on the end of Jess’s bed, Milly smiled, her eyes dreamy. “That Brian Donegan is the nicest man I’ve ever met. And his eyes are such a lovely shade of blue, although at times, I’d declare they must be gray.”

  Brian was a handsome man, Mattie would allow, but Conall was much better looking. Both brothers had the same shade of black hair with a hint of curl, but Conall’s eyes were a much more vibrant shade of blue than his brother’s. And he was at least an inch taller. Mattie scowled. Why was she comparing the two?

  Milly reached out and laid her hand on Mattie’s arm. “Brian has gone out of his way to let me know that we’re welcome to stay the winter. He said Glynna gets lonely and would enjoy the company.”

  To her thinking, it was Brian who wanted Milly’s company. Mattie twisted her lips to one side and shook her head. “When Jess is better, we’ll move on. I don’t want to abuse the Donegans’ hospitality.”

  Milly shot up and shoved her hands to her hips. “Don’t I have a say in the matter? I am the oldest, after all.”

  Standing, Mattie glanced through the open door to the kitchen, thankful no one was there to overhear them. “Pa put me in charge.”

  “That doesn’t mean you get to make all of the decisions.”

  “I pretty much have since he’s been gone.”

  Milly stamped her foot in a rare display of temper. “Well, I don’t want to leave. I’m tired of living in a tipi and wearing buckskins and smelling like an animal. I’m sick of moving all the time and having to lug that heavy tipi and those putrid hides—and—and cooking over a smoky fire.” Tears filled her eyes, and she rushed from the room.

  Mattie glanced down at Jess, who stared at the doorway, wide-eyed, her sewing forgotten. She licked her lips. “I kind of like it here, too, but I’m tired of being stuck in this bed. Glynna is a good cook, and she bakes treats sometimes.”

  Eyes stinging from the disagreement with Milly and both sisters’ desertion, Mattie forced a smile. “Don’t worry about the future, chickadee. Things will work out.”

  Jess studied her for a moment then shrugged and went back to work on her pillow. Needing time alone, Mattie fled the cabin and hurried to the tipi. Inside, she dropped down the flap and curled up on a bear skin, unable to stem her tears. Everything was falling apart, and she didn’t know what to do. A rank odor assaulted her nose. Milly was right about the furs smelling, but she hadn’t noticed it until she’d slept several weeks on Glynna’s sun-kissed sheets.

  Mattie sighed. Surely, Milly understood that they couldn’t stay with the Donegans forever. And when they did leave, she’d have to face the woods again. She would need to go hunting, and she’d probably never see Conall or his siblings again. Mattie swallowed hard. Why did things have to become so complicated?

  “Um…knock, knock.”

  Recognizing Glynna’s voice, Mattie bolted upright, swiping the tears off her face. “Come on in.”

  Sunlight stretched its warm fingers inside the open flap, and Glynna crawled in. She glanced around the tipi then crept over to sit next to, Mattie. Her friendly smile soothed Mattie. “It’s rather cozy in here. I can see why you like it.”

  She tried to look at the place through her friend’s eyes. The furs did smell, but they were comfortable—if you didn’t mind the fact there were no chairs. And the tipi reeked of smoke from the fires lit on cold nights. Even her buckskins carried a strong, unladylike aroma.

  Glynna cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, but I was in my bedroom and overheard some of what Milly said. She’s talked to me several times about her desires.”

  Mattie stiffened. If Glynna came to try to talk her into staying, she was wasting her time. The sooner she and her sisters left, the sooner things would get back to normal.

  “I know things have been hard for you since your father has been gone so long.” Her eyes dimmed, and she frowned. “It was like that for me when I lost Ben, the man I’d planned to marry.”

  Mattie sucked in a breath. This was the first she’d heard of Glynna losing her intended, but it made sense that she would have had one, since she was older than her brothers. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you. It was several years ago, although I still miss Ben. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.” She smoothed out the wrinkles of her dress and stared up at the hole in the top for a moment. “I never would have made it through those dark days if not for the Lord’s help. He was my comfort and strength. My hope for the future.”

  The moment when Mattie had cried out to God when those men held her captive rushed across her mind. She’d almost forgotten how God had so quickly answered her prayer.

  “God loves you and your sisters, Mattie. He will help you understand what to do if you’ll seek Him.”

  Fiddling with a piece of buckskin fringe, Mattie glanced at Glynna. “I asked for His help when those men…” She swallowed hard. “He sent Conall to help me.”

  Glynna’s smile warmed Mattie’s insides. “I’m so glad to hear that you called upon Him. He longs to help you all the time, like He did then. Just talk to Him as you do me or your sisters. The Bible says that if we believe on the name of God’s Son, Jesus, we shall be saved, and we become children of God. I hope you’ll consider that. God loves you even more than your own father does.” She glanced down, picked a piece of lint off her dark blue dress, and flicked it aside. “Would you like me to pray for you?”

  Mattie tensed. “You mean here? Now?”

  Glynna nodded, and Mattie did, too. If God would send her a rescuer when she desperately needed one, maybe He would also help her in her day-to-day decisions. Maybe He could help her to not be afraid.

  Reaching out to clutch Mattie’s hand, Glynna closed her eyes and bowed her head. “Heavenly Father, I beseech You to reveal Yourself to Mattie. Give her the assurance that You love her and care about her future. Help her to know what to do concerning staying the winter with us or moving on. And, Lord, we ask that if it’s possible, You bring her father back to her.”

  Th
at night, as Mattie shared a bed with Milly, she thought about all that Glynna had said. She was so tired of battling her sisters, of making the decisions and carrying the weight of everything on her shoulders. She stared into the darkness of the room but no longer felt alone as she had before Glynna prayed for her. God, will You help me? Would You accept me as Your child? Show me what to do.

  Chapter 7

  This is where we lived when we first claimed this land.” Conall lifted the lantern, illuminating Mattie’s face. “Someone hewed this dugout from the side of the hill long before we came. What do you think of the place?”

  She shrugged. “It would keep the wind out, but I imagine it gets chilly since you can’t have a fire in here.”

  “To be honest, the temperature pretty much stays the same, summer or winter.” As he set the lamp down on the battered old table, memories of his first days on this land marched through his mind. They were hardscrabble but rewarding days. He pointed to several shelves along one wall. “As you can see, this is where we store our extra produce and the things Glynna cans.”

  “Saves you from havin’ to dig a root cellar.” She smiled, and his insides turned to mush. “Still, I prefer the tipi.”

  “Do you not like the cabin?”

  Mattie walked across the small room and ran her hand along the shelf holding the canned vegetables. “It’s a very nice cabin, but it’s yours, not mine, so what I think shouldn’t matter.”

  Her opinion did matter, but he wasn’t quite ready to tell her that. He needed to analyze his attraction to her and pray before voicing it. “Do you think you could ever be happy living in one?”