Brides of the West-Part One

by Hestand, Rita

  "I'll pay for any supplies we might need." She informed him.

  "No you won't." He stopped and turned to look at her. "I don't know where you come from, but Hershel would be upset if I let a lady pay for anything. Don't worry, despite how it might look, Hershel has money, ma'am. No, Hershel will pay our expenses. It isn't up to a woman to pay. You’re his bride, or soon will be." Buck said matter-of-factly. "Why he'd skin me alive if I let you pay for anything. That would be an insult."

  "I didn't realize he had money, we never talked much about money in our letters." She murmured. "Somehow that didn't seem important."

  "No, I guess not." Buck stared at her strangely.

  "Why does it take so long to get there." She asked as they neared the livery stable.

  "It's a hard climb, and you gotta be careful." He answered as he approached a man in the livery stable. "A lot depends on the weather, the Indians, and the outlaws."

  "Indians and outlaws. Are you serious?"

  Buck stopped a minute to explain. "Well, you see we got a treaty of sorts with the Indians, but every now and then they rebel and put up a fight about it. And the outlaws, well, where would you go if you robbed or murdered someone. You go where most don't that's where."

  "I see…"

  Practically running into the stable Buck tapped a man on the shoulder who was blacksmithing at the time.

  "Jones, this is Rachel. I'm taking her up to see Hershel, they are gonna be married. We'll need the usual supplies, you got 'em?"

  The man he called Jones turned around and stared at him and the lady. Rachel saw massive muscles and brawn, dark hair that was a little too long, and a beard that needed trimming, but he had a pleasant face underneath all the scrubby exterior. "Married? Hershel?"

  "Yeah, I reckon love bit him in the...." Buck glanced at Rachel and stopped talking.

  Jones looked Rachel over as though she were a beautiful horse. "She's too highfaluting for Hershel," Jones said. "She ain't no mountain woman, that's for sure. He'd be better off with an Indian wife, Buck…"

  "Well, love is funny sometimes." Buck chuckled.

  "I'll have you ready in an hour, Buck." Jones glanced at Buck now.

  "Okay, and put it on Hershel's bill, will you?" Buck asked.

  "I'll do it," Jones replied.

  As they left the livery stable, Buck seemed to have something in mind, but she had no idea what.

  "Where are we going now?" She asked adjusting her vest and hat.

  "We better get some food in our bellies to give us some energy. It's a long and tedious journey. I hope you are up to it."

  "I'll manage." She assured him.

  They entered a small café that was bustling with business. Rachel looked around her, admiring the country atmosphere as they took a table in the corner. The waitress took their order and they faced each other over candlelight.

  People stared at her for a moment.

  "Why are they staring at me?" She asked Buck as they ordered.

  "Aw…don't let that bother you. They aren't used to me having a woman with me." Buck seemed embarrassed. "That's all."

  "Oh, you aren't married?" She asked as she glanced around the place.

  "No…I never married." Buck sighed a bit, then shook himself and looked at her. "I had intentions to a time or two, but it just didn't work out."

  "I find that strange, since you apparently encouraged Hershel to marry."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, Lilly said he didn't write the letters. And you being his best friend, I figured either you wrote them or he dictated what to write to me."

  "I guess I did have a hand in it. I mean, you gotta understand, Hershel is alone, all the time. He needs someone. I guess everyone needs someone to make them complete."

  "Including you?"

  "Maybe." He smiled.

  Rachel ignored that remark for later.

  "How long have you known Hershel?" She asked, glancing at him now.

  "Years. We've been friends a long time. There's just about nothing we wouldn't do for one another. Yes ma'am, Hershel is a fine fella, once you get to know him." Buck cleared his throat as though he was thinking about that. "I'll admit, he's rough around the edges, so to speak, but I couldn't ask for a better friend."

  "What do you mean, once you get to know him?" She frowned.

  Buck glanced away, then studied her for a moment before he answered. "Well, he's not a refined gentleman. He's gruff, a little on the rough side, and his manners aren't always in place if you know what I mean. But deep down, there's no one that will be a better friend to you, than Hershel."

  Rachel soaked the information up and filed it in the back of her mind. What was Buck trying not to tell her?

  "You think a lot of him, then?" She queried.

  "Oh sure, he's probably the best friend I got." Buck replied. When it got silent again, Buck looked at her. "Can I ask you something?"

  "Sure…"

  "Why'd you come up here to marry him. I mean…sight unseen."

  "I guess that does seem rather strange doesn't it. It was his letters. He wrote beautiful letters. He'd describe the countryside to me. He'd tell me about the moon and the stars, and what he believed in, and what he didn't. He sort of let me see him in those letters. A man that could write like that…well…it would be hard not to fall in love with him." Rachel reflected.

  Buck stared at her again. He looked speechless for a minute.

  "But you are a refined lady…."

  "And he's a mountain man…doesn't seem to fit, does it?" She smiled, letting her mind drift to the letters he wrote. "I think you'll find that I'm not as refined as you seem to think. Just because I'm from Philadelphia, doesn't make me a grand lady, Mr. Daggett."

  "No ma'am, it doesn't. But please call me Buck. We don't hold much with titles around here."

  "Alright, Buck. A lot of folks don't seem to fit. My folks never fit, if you ask me. And I don't get along with them very well. At least not since I grew up.."

  "Uh huh."

  "Well, they sort of kicked me out of the house."

  "You don't say. What did you do that made them do that? That is if you want to tell me."

  "It's not so much what I did, but my beliefs and dreams. I joined a women's liberation movement for one. I joined the church for another, and I…refused to marry Frank."

  "Frank?"

  "Yes, Frank Parker he is the Vice President of my father's bank. I had been engaged to him for two years, and finally when my father insisted we marry, I turned Frank down." Rachel felt the old anger stirring inside her. "And I didn't offer any explanation. My father was furious of course. Said I'd gone too far."

  "What was wrong with him? This Frank fella."

  Rachel paused, making a mental list in her head. "It's more like what wasn't. We weren't at all suited. I was two inches taller than he to begin with. That can be intimidating for any man. Not that it had a thing to do with anything, but I think at times I did intimidate him. He hated the Women's Liberations Movement. He was from the old school."

  "Old school?"

  "He believed women should be seen and not heard. I supported it, for reasons he probably never understood. I think women have minds of their own and should be able to express them, especially in their own homes. Frank was Catholic, I had just joined a Protestant church. I refused to convert. He wanted a houseful of kids. I wanted three or four, maybe at most."

  "So you didn't have anything in common?" Buck asked.

  "Nothing. I didn't cook to please him. The way I dressed didn't please him. And he certainly didn't want me. The bank was robbed once and instead of defending it, he handed over the money like a piece of cake. He has no backbone. Maybe I was wrong, but I expected him to defend the place where he worked. And yet he wants to make all the decisions and dictate where I should stay, which is in the home at all times with a dozen children running about me."

  "You don't like kids?" Buck frowned.

  "No, it isn't that. I love child
ren. But when you have a houseful of children, you can't supervise them correctly. And you can't give them as much attention as they need. Two or three, no more than four would do."

  Buck nodded. "You know I hadn't given that much thought. But I guess you have a point about it. Some folks just don't know when to stop."

  "Exactly. A lot of folks today have children just to help with their farms. That's like breeding slavery to me."

  "Yes ma'am, I have to agree there. A man should be able to do most of the work himself. Or hire help."

  "Well anyway, when things became too unbearable at home, I decided it was time to leave. My father said I should marry, that I was already past my prime and that no one but Frank Parker would have me. So I wrote Hershel about marriage if he had that in his plans. He said he did. So I came…I thought he understood that I meant, now, not later."

  "Then, he didn't really know you were coming. He didn't know you were planning to get married right away?" Buck asked as he looked at her.

  "Well…no…I guess he didn't. But he said matrimony was something that he wanted and the sooner, the better. So I took that as a yes. I guess…we really don't speak the same language. I thought that meant he wanted to marry me? Have I misunderstood him?" Rachel asked, coming closer. "Have I jumped to the wrong conclusions? Please be honest."

  Buck shook his head. For a moment, he was silent. Then he explained. "Hershel's been lonely all his life. He's been so lonely that he doesn't even realize how lonely he is. He needs a good woman to settle him down. I've told him that for a long time."

  "You're a good friend, aren't you?"

  "I try to be. Don't you fret, he'll be wanting to wed you and fast when he gets a look at you." Buck smiled at her.

  Rachel looked at him curiously. His smile was warm and friendly and she felt for some reason as though she could trust Buck. That was strange as Rachel didn't tend to trust men at all.

  "Is he as gentle as his letters?"

  Buck seemed uncomfortable with her questions now. "We better hurry up, we got to make tracks up the mountain. Is your steak alright?"

  "Oh…yes, of course." Rachel saw his impatience and decided to remain quiet and eat. After all, Buck was just doing a favor for a friend, she'd get her answers soon.

  Chapter Three

  Loaded with supplies, two mules and two horses, Buck was ready for the journey. He only hoped she was.

  His mind went a hundred times to the letters he wrote. He remembered sitting out on the mountain side staring at the countryside, and feeling so melancholy. It was those letters that caused all of this. But it was too late to do anything about it. Besides, now that she was here, Hershel would do the right thing and marry her.

  The mountain stood before them like a nemesis, ready to spit them out if they came too close. As beautiful as it was, it was a dangerous trip, and especially with an untraveled lady.

  The air was already cooler than it had been. The first snow had come and gone and it looked as though it might come again, soon.

  Buck Daggett scratched his chin and wondered what he was doing taking this city-bred gal to his best friend, Hershel. The girl obviously had no idea what Hershel was really like, and it was all his fault. He wrote the letters to her. He did it for Hershel, who couldn't write. The words he'd put on paper had sounded sweet when he wrote them, but now he wasn't so sure he hadn't overdone it. He'd painted a picture that no one could resist.

  He realized now that he made a big mistake. Somehow he had leaked out his own personality in those letters. Not Hershel's. He was the one that told how beautiful the snow was on the mountains, how the eagles soared high in the air, all the beauty of the country. He should have known he'd been too poetic. But Hershel had insisted he had no idea how to write a letter and that he'd be ever so grateful.

  Buck needed to convince the girl what a bad idea it was, but that stubborn jut of her chin told him that wouldn't be easy to do.

  Surely she could see she was out of her element. Even if she hadn't once complained of the trip so far.

  He'd be at the preacher's cabin by morning and he hated to involve more people in this farce. He shouldn't have meddled in Hershel's affairs.

  Hershel was a good friend, but, he wasn't husband material, even if he was lonely most of the time. An Indian wife might be better, Lilly had been right about that. Yeah, he definitely should have suggested an Indian wife. At least she could keep up with his traipsing around the countryside.

  "So you are from Philadelphia?" He struck up a conversation with her.

  "Yes."

  "Do you think you could grow to like it living on a mountain, with a man that leaves you alone most of the time?" He asked using very little tact.

  She studied him a moment. "Mr. Daggett are you trying to talk me out of this, by any chance?"

  "Well, ma'am sometimes these through the mail sort of things just don't work out. They aren't what you expect them to be. That's all." Buck frowned, uneasy at how she had turned the tables on him. "Besides, it's kind of my fault this all got started in the first place."

  "I don't have many expectations, Mr. Daggett." She said with a huff. "I'm content to be married, having a home, and possibly a reasonable amount of children running around."

  Children? Hershel was not a man to put up with children. No, if she wanted children, then she'd have the full responsibility as Hershel wouldn't know how. And somehow Buck couldn't imagine him trying to learn.

  "Please call me Buck…and I'll call you Rach if that's okay with you."

  "Buck a man that can write letters like that can't be all bad." She exclaimed.

  "You forget he didn't write them. You really put a lot of stock in those letters didn't you?" He mused, lighting a fire for their first camp.

  Problem was, he had too. He'd poured his heart out in those letters since he really never expected to meet the lady that answered them. Had he not read the last letter she wrote, he wouldn't have known she'd be at the station today.

  What was done, was done. Maybe things would work out right.

  She got the food preparations out and began preparing a meal. In no time, she had it ready and he had to admit, she sure adjusted to that hardship quickly.

  He wondered at that. Perhaps she could adapt to Hershel. Maybe he was wrong about the two of them together. But his gut told him differently. This was not the woman for Hershel.

  She poured him some coffee and served him a steak they had ordered cut for them for their first camp. She had also baked two potatoes in the fire. She surprised him with her capabilities.

  "Perhaps you are right. But a deal is a deal. I'm here to marry Hershel, I intend to do just that." She lifted her chin defiantly as he stared at her. "Unless he refuses me. But I guess even that would be too late since we're getting married by proxy."

  "Well, ma'am I guess."

  "The only hesitation I have is that Hershel might be offended by a proxy wedding. Still, it's the most practical way to do it, don't you think?"

  "Yes ma'am, I guess it is. But…"

  Buck wasn't about to argue with her. She had her mind made up and it wasn't a bit of his business if she married Hershel. Still, something niggled at the back of his mind that it wasn't quite fair. The letters had created the problem. He'd never write another letter to a woman! Never!

  "It's rather chilly up here, isn't it?" She remarked as they ate.

  "When the sun goes down it's a bitter cold. But we'll bundle up good. I think maybe you should put that jacket on that Lilly packed for you. From now until dark, the weather will be changing. Those boots she gave you are insulated well that will help."

  "You are an excellent guide, Buck. Even though I never expected to be climbing a mountain when I left home, I feel as though I can count on you. I'm glad you're Hershel's friend." She smiled, this time more relaxed and the smile affected Buck more than he ever expected. Her eyes sparkled with life now.

  Why'd he write those silly letters?

  But he knew why, all the
time he was writing for Hershel he let himself dream about having a wife and kids. Now it hit him square in the jaw. It was he that wanted a woman, not Hershel.

  Why hadn't he seen it? He was the one that was lonely!

  What was a beautiful little gal like her doing marrying a rough mountain man like Hershel? He did send her Hershel's picture.

  "You don't scare easily, do you?" Buck acknowledged.

  "I don't know, maybe this adventure will surprise me. I hadn't expected to be exposed to the elements like this, nor outlaws and Indians. I'm not sure what I expected. Or if I expected anything. I guess that's a little presumptuous of me. You see, Hershel never talked about where he lived much, only about how beautiful it was here. And he's right. Even though hiking through this country is rough, it is beautiful."

  "Ma'am there's something I need to tell you…" Buck began but was interrupted by a gun at his temple.

  "I don't think there's anything you need to tell her right now. Now you folks empty your possessions on the ground here and be quick about it." The man said as his gaze went over her quickly.

  He was a big fella, with longish hair and beard, his features were dark and brooding.

  "Now mister…we don't want any trouble." Buck began.

  "Then empty out your pockets and all your valuables and you won't get none." The man said.

  When he smiled, his teeth were jagged and yellow. He stunk of river water and sweat. He was obviously alone. From the quiet way he snuck up on them Buck figured he was either part Indian or had been with them a spell and learned their ways.

  "We don't have anything of value, we were headed up to the preacher's place…"

  "What fer?" The man asked curiously.

  "To get married…" Rachel explained.

  "You're going to marry this saddle tramp?" The man asked looking at Rachel with surprise.

  "Y-yes, yes I am." Rachel declared.

  "I don't believe it." The man screwed up his face into a frown.

  "It's the truth so help me…" Rachel said moving to Buck's side.