He didn’t regret coming and trying. It was the only way he knew to keep Prudie from loading up the wagon and heading off into one of her schemes to find new customers. Maybe he was too cautious, but memories of what had happened to his mother kept haunting him. She’d just gone out for a buggy ride to find a berry patch and never came back.
Did his fears indicate a lack of faith or prudence? The very word sent his mind back to his wife, her beauty, her spirit. He loved her, but would she ever come to care for him? One of the reasons he’d come out here was the hope that absence would make her heart grow fonder. He’d read that somewhere, though he couldn’t remember who’d written it.
If he only knew how to woo a woman or even understand them. When he got back home he’d ask Ben for some tips in pleasing a wife. That would take a lot of pride-swallowing. Then he had the extra hurdle to get over with Prudie. She still carried the bad memory of another man’s touch. All he could do was pray about that.
Chapter 22
Prudie trudged along behind Little Doe on the narrow trail. Every muscle pained her, though it wasn’t as bad as yesterday. The mule was incredibly slow, and Prudie could’ve walked at the same pace. Indeed, she did every now and then to relieve her sore rear.
Impatience grew with each step up the heavily wooded, winding trail, along with the anticipation of seeing Erich. Would he be pleased to see her? Probably not, but no matter what, she determined to be honest with him.
She was in love with him. She recognized that now. Her pulse raced, and not entirely from the effort to climb the mountain.
Thy desire shall be to thy husband.
How she desired her husband right now. She smiled, not knowing where that feeling came from, or when it had taken root. But it was there, and she understood. A married woman would never be happy unless she desired her husband.
They came to a fork in the trail and Little Doe stopped. She pointed to the right. “You go that way. My people there.” She swung her finger toward the left.
Prudie had assumed Little Doe would see her clear to the cabin, and she didn’t welcome the idea of traveling in this wilderness alone. “What if I get lost?”
Little Doe shook her head, putting her braids in motion. “No get lost. Trail go right to cabin.”
Prudie twisted around in the saddle. On the left the dense forest carried on. On the right an outcropping of stone rose in a graduated line to the sky. “How far to the cabin?”
Little Doe furrowed her brow and flapped her hands, obviously trying to find the words to answer. She pointed again. “See crest? Cabin at bottom.”
Well that was something. Prudie could see the crest of the rock formation, so it couldn’t be far. At any rate, there was nothing to do but part from her guide and continue on her own. She waved her thanks to Little Doe, and flicked the reins.
On and upward the sure-footed gelding climbed, and Prudie noticed how the trees up here, the elder, oak, and aspens had changed colors in stark contrast to the firs and pines. She drew in deep breaths of clean air. This place was beautiful, and she understood why Erich would love it.
The trail narrowed at places, then around a bend, she came into an open space. Abruptly, her horse let out a frightened scream and reared. Prudie fought to keep her seat, but found herself slipping off the saddle, the reins jerked from her hands.
The horse kicked his heels once and galloped away as if struck with a hot poker. Maybe he was stung by a bumble bee. Prudie dusted herself off and glanced around. She wasn’t overly frightened. She could walk the rest of the way. Her destination wasn’t far now. But she couldn’t see what had gotten into the horse.
The crashing of bush in the wooded side and a roar told her. A grizzly, nine feet high, came out in the clearing. For a moment, Prudie froze. This was maybe the worst time of year to run into a grizzly. They’d be feeding to build up their fat for hibernation and would eat anything to that end.
The bear was a good distance away, but that didn’t matter. It had its sights on her, and she couldn’t outrun a bear. She didn’t have time to pray. Pure instinct took over.
The rock outcropping was her best bet—her only chance, though a poor one. She’d never climbed a rock wall, but this one sloped with ledges and crevices for footholds. She ran to it with arms outstretched.
She held the hem of her dress in her mouth to keep it from tripping her and scrambled over the rocks more quickly than she’d ever thought possible. With luck, the bear would give up the chase. If not, her only hope was to find a crevice large enough to wedge herself into and too small for the bear to follow.
An earth-shattering roar from below took luck off the table, and squeezing sideways, she ducked into the nearest hole. Unfortunately, it wasn’t deep, and the bear could, if he followed, pluck her out like a ripe berry. She glanced down and saw the bear coming up.
God, don’t let me die like this, not until I can tell Erich I love him. Help me.
There were plenty of small loose rocks at her feet. She’d pelt the varmint for all she was worth. It wouldn’t actually hurt him, but maybe it’d change his mind. If she could only hit him in the eye. She crouched down and began flinging rocks. They just bounced off the beast, but the rock wall was loose in places, and the bear’s weight made it hard for him to gain traction. He slid down, but didn’t give up. He’d likely climbed these rocks many times and knew he’d win in the end.
Prudie put all her strength in slinging the next stone. It didn’t even hit the brute. Dear Lord, please help.
Was this the end? Without a chance to see Erich again? No opportunity to accomplish her goals? Didn’t God have a purpose for her?
Then she heard a dog barking in the distance.
Chapter 23
Erich couldn’t imagine what had gotten into Rusty. The fool dog was barking like crazy, twirling around in circles, then running off to turn around and look back. He hadn’t scented game. Rusty knew better than to set up a ruckus when they were on the trail.
The dog clearly wanted his master to follow him, so Erich kneed the stallion to pick up the pace. Just around the corner off the side of the path, a roan stood quietly grazing on the grass. Could be another hunter. Erich trotted over to the horse.
The animal lifted his head, and the hair on Erich’s neck stood up. That was Prudie’s horse. Something was wrong.
“Prudie.” He yelled the name again, stirring up a flock of birds, but that was the only answer he got.
He sidled over to the roan and grabbed the loose reins, slapping it around the oak branch that jutted overhead. He prayed to heaven Prudie hadn’t been knocked off and was lying somewhere hurt.
Might be she lent the horse to someone. Anyway, it was clear Rusty wasn’t interested in the horse. He came back, barking in a way that shouted, “Forget the horse. Follow me.”
“All right, boy. Let’s go.”
Apparently satisfied his rather dense master had finally gotten the message, Rusty lit off, his ears flapping and feet barely touching the ground. Erich had to urge his horse into a gallop.
Within seconds, he caught sight of her, clinging on the ledge of the rocks about fifty feet off the ground. He didn’t have to speculate on why she was there. No more than a dozen feet below, a grizzly was doing his best to scale the wall.
Erich slid out of the saddle and grabbed his rifle in one continuous motion. Rusty was at the base of the wall, still barking. Erich got the rifle ready as he ran. The bear made a perfect target, plastered as he was against the gray rock.
Erich took aim and fired, the gunfire echoing off the stones. For a moment he thought he’d missed, then the bear pitched backwards and fell head over heels, thudding near to where Rusty pawed.
The dog stopped barking—a good indication the bear was dead and the danger over. All of Erich’s attention went to Prudie. “Stay where you are.” He didn’t know how she’d gotten up there, but he wouldn’t let her chance coming down without help.
He scaled the wall easily enough.
Prudie heaved as tears tracked along her dirt smudged cheeks. Her hair, fallen loose below her shoulders, glistened in the sunlight that lit up the mountain’s stone face. One sleeve of her jacket was ripped, and the hem of her skirt frayed.
She was the prettiest sight he’d ever seen.
He touched her gently, holding her wide, frightened gaze. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, sending the last coil of penned hair tumbling in her face. Erich pushed it back. “It’s all right now. You’re safe.”
Her shoulders shook with more sobbing, and he took her in his arms, letting her heave against him. He rested his chin on her head, absently patting her on the back, meaning to let her cry it out.
But the weeping went on too long. He knew they had to get back on the ground. “Let’s go,” he whispered in her ear. Keeping one arm firmly around her, he maneuvered gingerly down the stone surface. He didn’t have to worry about dropping her. She clung to him as tight as a burr to a horse’s mane.
Once on firm ground, he breathed easier. She’d quietened enough he thought she might be able to answer some questions. “Did something happen back in town? Why are you out here?”
Fresh tears burst forth. He lifted her chin with two fingers, and she raised watery, emerald eyes. She was still in shock, so he got a firm hold of her shoulders, gently at first, and when her crying didn’t show signs of abating, he shook hard enough to make her head lull. “Prudie, tell me. Why did you come up here—alone?”
Her lips wobbled as she shuddered. “Because I missed you.” The barely audible words jolted him, knowing they had the power to change his world.
He raised up to search her upturned face. There was something different in her soft, green tearful eyes. A look he’d been yearning for since he first met her, praying for. Love, as pure and simple as he’d ever seen. He drew her back and locked her to his chest. “I missed you too, Prudie.”
The lump in his throat prevented more words, so he kissed her forehead, moving down along the salty cheek to her soft, trembling lips. The intensity of the feeling made it hard to breathe, and he came up for air.
“I’ll take you to the cabin, then come back to skin and dress this bear you caught. Funny thing is, I’ve been stalking them for a week now, and you come up and snag one right off.”
He meant to make her laugh, and she did, though it ended in a sob. She hardly had the strength to stand. He cradled her into his arms and carried her to the horse.
Erich got on behind the candle and held Prudie in front. As dirty as she was, he still smelled the rose water she used to rinse her hair. How he loved this woman. His wife.
When they got to the place Prudie’s horse stood, Erich told her to stay put. He slid off his stallion and got on the roan. Together they headed to the cabin. He’d get Prudie settled by the fire before she caught cold. She needed rest until she’d recovered from her ordeal.
By the time he got the bear meat stored in the ice house, she’d be feeling as good as new, he hoped. He hated to leave her for a minute, but he couldn’t let the bear go to waste. There was enough meat to feed the whole town, and a lot of folks favored bear meat. He’d keep the skin though. It would lie on the floor before their hearth. Someday they’d tell their children how their mama had caught a bear.
Chapter 24
If Erich hadn’t pointed it out to her, Prudie would’ve missed the cabin, so hidden was it. A strange sensation of excitement and contentment enveloped her when Erich lifted her down from his horse.
He took her inside and lit a kerosene lamp. She got her first good look at the small room that had been his home for many years. The kitchen was nothing more than a stove and sink set against one wall. A rough-hewn table and two chairs huddled under one of the two windows. A horsehair sofa stood under the other window with two tall bookcases on each side. A ladder led to a loft.
Erich laid his arm around her shoulder and glided her to the sofa. He fed a few logs in the stove, the only source of heat. “You rest here while I take care of the bear and get the horses fed and watered.” He kissed her forehead and left before she had time to get out a word.
Prudie meandered around the room, touching every object, running her fingers along the spines of the books, holding the cup containing the dregs of Erich’s morning coffee. All these things were precious because he’d used them. It didn’t take her long to explore the entire house. The room couldn’t be more than a twelve foot square.
Where did he sleep? She hugged herself. Had she read him right? Did he feel the electricity that ran between them out on the rocks and on the way here? She was ready to become a real wife, and she didn’t want to wait until they returned to town.
Fatigue seeped through her bones, and with nothing else to do, she went back to the sofa. She laid her head on the patchwork pillow and pulled the faded quilt over her. She’d just rest a little while, then get up and try to make herself a bit more presentable.
Rest eluded Prudie. The giddy anticipation of a woman awaiting her lover set her scurrying to prepare his meal as her ears strained for the sound of his return.
The rest of the evening glided by on a crest of emotions so intense, she’d easily recall them with tenderness during times of difficulty and times of joy until the end of her days. Later that night she fell asleep in her husband’s arms as the nightingale sang its haunting song.
She awoke the next morning to the noise of squabbling squirrels outside the loft’s open window. With her head pillowed on Erich’s broad chest, she savored a perfect view of the woods outside the cabin and the snowcapped mountains beyond.
Her husband stirred, and she twisted her head to meet his gaze. “I was just enjoying the lovely sunrise.
He brushed a long strand of soft, auburn hair out of the way to kiss her forehead. “It is lovely, but I’m looking at something lovelier.” He trailed kisses to her temple. “Guess we’ll have to get an early start, though. We have to get back to the store.”
The store would keep. Prudie wanted this moment to linger. “Could we wait until the sun rises over that mountain?”
He raised up on his elbow and stared, as if he couldn’t believe it. “Yeah, Prudie.” His hoarse voice exuded masculinity and sent a shiver through her. “We can wait.”
She slipped her hands on either side of his neck, her fingers gently stroking the roughness of his scar. It was important for a woman to desire her husband, and Erich was so easy to desire. It would take a whole lifetime to show him how much she loved him.
Author’s Note
Thank you, dear reader, for reading The Annex Mail-Order Brides, prequel novellas to my long historical series, Intrigue under Western Skies, the story that changed the direction of my writing and my life.
If you enjoyed this book, and even if you didn’t, please leave a review at Amazon.com and Goodreads. I write only for the Lord’s glory and the reader’s pleasure, so I would much appreciate your opinion.
The following is an excerpt from the first book in the novel series, Intrigue under Western Skies, Pursued.
Chapter 1
Nebraska 1884
Click.
The gunman cocked his pistol, the muzzle jabbing her neck. Carianne Barlow was going to die on this perfect spring day at high noon, right here in the dusty street of this little prairie town. A place she shouldn’t be. Alone. Chasing a crazy dream.
“Back up, Sheriff, or I’ll blast this little lady to kingdom come.” After that threat sailed over her head, the brute lowered his voice. As his hot breath blew into her ear, she got a whiff of tobacco and horse and a couple of things she couldn’t put a name to. “No offense, ma’am.”
She took him to mean he didn’t intend to shoot her, just make the sheriff think he would. That gave her just enough reassurance to breathe. Maybe he didn’t intend to kill her, but she was plenty offended and would tell him so, if she could get a word past the constriction in her throat.
The sheriff attempted bluster. “Better let
her go, Welford.”
The outlaw knocked her hat forward, and a green feather obstructed her view. All she saw of the sheriff was his upraised rifle, and the way it shook gave her no confidence. He halted several yards in front of them. “Let her go. You don’t want another murder on your head.”
A murderer? Maybe she’d read her captor wrong. Two murders wouldn’t cost him any more than one. The lump in her throat threatened to choke her.
“I ain’t killed nobody.” Welford tightened his grip on her middle. “That man ain’t gonna die.”
“Whadda you mean? I cut him down myself after you and your cohorts lynched him.”
“We didn’t hang him to kill him—just to stretch his neck a little. He hadn’t even turned purple. You gotta let me talk, Sheriff.”
“Let the woman go, then you can talk.”
With the men arguing over her fate, a strange calm settled over Carianne. Though the gunman didn’t slacken his hold one bit, he lost all power to frighten her. Peace descended as it had when her mother died in her arms.
Welford nudged to the right. “See…he ain’t dead. They’re bringing him in.”
She shifted her gaze to the sound of thundering hooves. Two horsemen, dressed like cowboys—jeans, leather vests, Stetsons—rode up to a building down the street. They halted and she noticed one of the men held a third in front of him.
The riders dismounted. Maneuvering an obviously injured man between them, they dragged him onto the plank sidewalk. Sandwiched between those two handsome men, he appeared almost comical, like a ragged magazine supported by two magnificent bookends.
The Annex Mail-Order Brides: Preque (Intrigue Under Western Skies Book 0) Page 32
