The Prairie Prince

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  “Stover!” she cried, running toward him.

  Drawing strength from some source, Katie saw Stover struggle to his feet, landing a brutal punch on the jaw of the leader of the villains. The man reeled back and Stover caught him by the throat. One of the other men pulled a knife from his waist, hurling it through the air. It plunged into Stover’s back and he shouted in pain just as Katie reached the uproar. Frightened for Stover’s life, tears streaming down her face, Katie took hold of the broken arm of the man who had thrown the knife, pulling it backward as hard as she could. The man cried out in agony and dropped to his knees, but the other man drew a pistol from his holster and pointed it at Katie. Katie stood helpless, she looked over at Stover to see him still holding the leader of the villains by the throat. She knew by the red condition of the man’s face, the way he clawed at Stover’s hand that Stover was chocking the life from his body.

  “Let him go!” the man with the pistol shouted. “Let him go now, or I’ll shoot the girl.”

  Instantly, Stover released the man who crumpled to the ground, clutching his throat and coughing. “Leave her be,” Stover breathed.

  Katie sobbed as she saw the pale condition of Stover’s face, the blood staining his shoulder, side and leg. “You leave her be. Yer quarrel’s with me,” he said, panting for breath.

  “Ya know,” the man said, his eyes narrowing. “Yer right.”

  And with that, he turned the pistol on Stover and Katie screamed as she saw him gasp and drop to his knees. Instantly, blood began to saturate his shirt from a source at his left shoulder.

  “Stover!” Katie cried. She took several steps toward him, but the man with the gun raised his eyebrows at her.

  “I’ll finish him off if ya take another step,” he threatened.

  Katie stopped and dropped to her own knees, her eyes met Stover’s as he swayed from side to side struggling to keep his balance. He reached back and pulled the knife from his own back, letting it slip from his hand as the man with the gun walked toward him.

  “I’ll give ya this, boy,” the man said as he strode to where Stover knelt, battered and weak. “You’re a perty tough…” The man’s words were silenced as a gunshot pierced the air. The man dropped to his knees then fell over—dead.

  Katie looked up to see Jared walking toward her, his attention and pistol focused on the other two men, so helpless they no longer posed a serious threat.

  “Jared!” Katie screamed, dropping to her hands and knees, and crawling to Stover.

  “Is he alive?” Jared asked, walking up to the leader of the men, kicking him square in the jaw and sending him sprawling to the ground.

  A moment before Katie reached him, the last of Stover’s strength abandoned him, and he fell over, struggling for breath.

  “Stover! Stover!” she cried as she hovered over him, brushing the hair from his perspiring brow.

  “Katie,” he whispered, raising a blood-caked hand to her face. “Are ya…are ya all right, princess?” he breathed.

  “Stover, please…” she cried. “Don’t close your eyes! Please! Please—just keep lookin’ at me! Please!”

  Katie could see him fading—see the life draining from him. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut for a minute before forcing them open again and looking at her.

  “I—I was waitin’ for Jared—for Jared and Pillar, Katie,” he breathed. “I—I guess I waited too long...to…to…to,” he stammered.

  “Sshhh,” Katie told him, caressing his cheek and letting her tears bathe his face.

  “I—I waited to long to tell you—to ask you to…” He paused as a terrible grimace distorted his features for a moment.

  “Hush, Stover,” Katie told him. “Don’t talk! Ya have to save your strength! Ya have to…”

  “I love you, Katie Matthews,” he said. His voice was strong for one more moment as he added, “I—I wanted to—to marry you. Would—would ya have married me, Katie?”

  Katie could not see him clearly through her river of tears. She nearly lost consciousness herself from the pain strangling her heart. Her hands were covered in his blood, his face was pale, his eyes glassy and she knew she was losing him. “I love you, too, and I will marry you, Stover,” she cried. “A soon as you’re well enough—I will marry you.”

  “We woulda had good-lookin’ babies, Katie,” he whispered. “I’m angry—about not bein’ able to—to have you.”

  “You do have me!” she told him, through her tears. “And me and you, and Pillar and Jared, and the girls—we’re gonna have Sunday suppers together—and Christmas and…”

  “I—I love you, Katie,” he whispered. “From the minute I saw ya covered in all them silly flowers,” he said. He tried to raise his hand to her cheek, but all strength had abandoned him. “I love you.” His eyes closed then, his body went limp and lifeless. Katie felt darkness envelope her, felt her body fall onto Stover’s as she lost consciousness. Everything was gone.

  

  Katie wiped her eyes with the black handkerchief her mother had given her before the service. She starred blindly at the plain pine box sitting on the ground near the freshly dug grave. It all seemed like a terrible nightmare and she kept praying to wake up. But she knew there would be no waking up from it. It had all happened—and he had died.

  The Summerville murderers had overtaken the sheriff two days before, escaped from the jailhouse, and set out for revenge. Katie had been out walking with Stover when the three men had arrived at her father’s house looking for her—looking for Stover. Bart Matthews had tried to reach for his rifle, but one of the men had been too quick, too prepared and Bart Matthews had been stabbed straight through his cold, unfeeling heart. It had been Evelyn’s horror at witnessing her husband’s murder, which had caused her to scream—the scream, that summoned Stover and Jared.

  Stover, of course had been closer to the Matthew’s house, having just had supper there. Jared was on his way back from having supper with Pillar and the triplets. It was nightmarish, horrible, violent and bloody and Katie knew she would never be able to purge the images and pain from her mind and heart.

  Still, there was hope, for even as she attended her father’s funeral, she prayed for Stover’s life. Doctor Daniels called it simply “a miracle” that Stover had survived even two days with the wounds inflicted to his body.

  “He should be dead twice over,” Doctor Daniels had told Katie just that morning. “I can’t tell ya why, but he just might make it through.”

  Katie followed her mother to the grave once her father’s pine coffin had been lowered into the ground. She had no flower to throw in—to lay with her father’s coffin. Wiping a tear from her eye, she held the black mourning handkerchief over the hole in the ground and let it go. Her father had never treated her well, never shown her an ounce of love or affection, but he was her father and she wanted his spirit to know she had wept at his loss.

  “Mrs. Matthews,” Mr. O’Malley said as he approached Katie’s mother. “I’m—I’m very sorry for yar loss, I am.”

  “Thank you, Shamus,” Evelyn said.

  “If there’s anythin’ I can do for ya—anythin’ at all—I’d be beggin’ ya to let me know it,” the man told her.

  Evelyn smiled at him and nodded. “Thank you. Truly, Shamus. Thank you.”

  Katie felt a certain amount of guilt at wanting to leave her father’s funeral services so quickly, but she could think of nothing else but Stover’s well-being. Quietly she opened the door to the room in Doctor Daniel’s house where Stover was resting. Berty, Bonnie, and Bunny sat at his side, worried and frightened frowns on their faces, tears in their eyes. They’d wanted to stay with Stover instead of going to the funeral and it had been an easy decision for Pillar to make. Now, as Katie entered the room, all three girls looked at her.

  “He asked for ya, Katie,” Berty said. “Just a moment ago—he asked for ya.”

  Tears began to stream down Katie’s face as she rushed to the bedside and knelt down to look at him. “H
e spoke?” she asked, still afraid to believe the girls.

  “Yes!” Bunny exclaimed. Tears trickled down Bunny’s face as she added, “He told me to go wipe my nose and then he asked where you were.”

  “Stover?” Katie whispered, afraid to hope. She’d been trying to face his dying, trying to prepare herself from the moment he’d lost consciousness two days before. Now—now she dared to hope again. “Stover? Can ya hear me?”

  Stover’s eyes opened, if only a slit and he looked at her and grinned a little. “Am I dead?” he asked, frowning. “Why—why are ya dressed like that?”

  Katie smiled and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “No—you’re not dead,” she told him as she caressed his cheek with one trembling hand.

  “Oh, good,” he breathed. “I—I was feelin’ better and when I saw ya dressed like that I thought maybe I was feelin’ better because I was dead.”

  Katie glanced up to the triplets as she heard three painful, frightened sets of whining begin. All three girls had tears streaming down their faces, looked terrified.

  Katie smiled at them and whispered, “It’s all right, girls. He’ll be all right.”

  They each sniffled and wiped their noses on their sleeves, nodding at her with determination to be brave.

  “I expect I look downright bad, Katie Matthews,” he whispered. “But do ya think ya could find it in yer heart to give yer banged up ol’ beau a kiss?”

  Katie giggled, her joy in his flirting with her overpowering! She stroked his face with her hand, trailing her fingers through his whiskers. “I think so,” she whispered, and taking his face in her hands, she pressed her lips to his softly, carefully, letting hers linger against his for a long moment before raising her head to look at him again.

  She gazed down at him smiling and he said, “You call that a kiss? Come on girl! Give me somethin’ to get out of bed for!” He grimaced slightly as he awkwardly gathered her into his arms. “I can’t marry ya ‘til I do,” he chuckled.

  Katie smiled and wiped the tears from her eyes before letting her mouth melt with his in a moist, passionate exchange. She could feel the life in him, feel his strength returning even as his kiss became more powerful. When the triplets began to giggle, Katie reluctantly ended their exchange, smiling as Stover sighed, seeming well pleased.

  “Are you…are you really going to marry me, Stover?” Katie asked.

  He smiled and raised a weak hand to caress her face. Katie’s tears were renewed at the feel of his hand on her cheek.

  “Love you, marry you, take you to my bed and—“ he began. For the sake of the triplets’ innocent ears, Katie’s hand over his mouth, causing him to chuckle. The thrill that rose in Katie’s bosom at his words assured her further—Stover would be well, and her own.

  “I love you,” she whispered, pressing her cheek against his.

  “I love you,” he whispered in return.

  “What about us?” the triplets sniffled in unison.

  Katie smiled as Stover’s eyes flashed with health and with love for her. “I love all three of you, too,” he chuckled. “Come here, ya little stinkers!”

  Katie stood, moving out of the way so Stover’s little sisters could now have their own reassurances. She watched him embracing them, letting them shower him with kisses even though it was obvious it caused him pain. He was more than she’d ever imagined a man could be—more than any hero she’d ever read about. He was handsome, strong, princely. She thought of his calling her “princess” on the night death had found her father and nearly found her true love. It was then she realized—he was a true prince—a prince who wooed and won her, fought for her and nearly given his life for her. He was hers—her own prairie prince.

  Epilogue

  “The babies are in trouble again, Grandma!” Berty announced as she entered the kitchen and began to remove her mittens.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, what now?” Evelyn O’Malley sighed, abandoning her rolling pin to the piecrust on the counter and wiping her hands on her apron.

  “I caught them out there milkin’ Tudy—well, I don’t suppose they were really milkin’ her—at least, not proper,” Berty explained. “They each had a-hold of a teat, squirtin’ milk at each other, the dogs and anythin’ else they could see.”

  Evelyn sighed, then chuckled. “It’s that Irish blood of mischief they’ve got runnin’ through their veins!”

  “What Irish blood of mischief might that be, lassy?” Shamus asked, entering the kitchen and pinching a piece of pie dough from his wife’s wares.

  “Grandpa Shamus,” Berty said. “Katie and Stover will be here any minute with Daisy and when Pillar and Jared get here with Johnny…” Berty sighed and shook her head. “Well—it’ll be plum chaos and there ain’t nothin’ more I can say about it.”

  “It’s called ‘payin’ for yer raisin’,’ Berty Steele,” Stover said, entering the kitchen from the parlor and setting Daisy down on the floor.

  “Gwammaw!” Daisy squealed, running to Evelyn and throwing her arms around her grandmother’s legs.

  “There’s my sunshine, Daisy,” Evelyn said, picking up the toddler and kissing her soundly on one cheek.

  “Got any kisses for yar granddaddy today, Daisy?” Shamus asked.

  Daisy smiled and leaned over, kissing her grandpa on the cheek.

  “Oh, Stover!” Berty said, throwing herself into her big brother’s embrace. “I’m so happy to see ya! Where’s my Christmas present?”

  Stover chuckled and said, “Under grandma’s tree where it should be.”

  “Katie!” Berty exclaimed as Katie entered the kitchen and sat two pumpkin pies down on the table.

  “Hello, my sweet Berty,” Katie said, tightly hugging her little sister-in-law. “Where’re the others?”

  “Bunny and Bonnie are out in the barn cleanin’ up after the twins—and the twins—well…” Berty began.

  “They’ve been into mischief again, I take it,” Katie giggled. She nodded and walked to her mother and stepfather, kissing each on the cheek.

  “Where’s my baby boy?” Evelyn asked, hugging Katie.

  “He fell asleep on the ride over, Mama,” Stover explained. “I laid him down on yer bed, if that’s all right.”

  “That’s just fine,” Evelyn said.

  “I’ll just have me a wee bit of a peek at him, I will,” Shamus said, his eyes twinkling with delight.

  “You leave that baby alone, Shamus O’Malley,” Evelyn scolded. “He’ll be as grouchy as a toothless mountain lion if ya go wakin’ him up now.”

  Stover smiled and studied the scene before him. It was a miracle—the happiness in the O’Malley house—once the Matthew’s house so filled with fear and despair. He looked at Evelyn and Shamus, noted the joy and peace on their faces. He thought of their two little girls, red-headed, three years old, and twins. Oh, they gave their parents a run for their lives nearly, but they were two bundles of pure joy to his mother and father-in-law. He couldn’t imagine their lives without the children they’d borne together.

  He looked at Berty and how pretty she was becoming. At twelve years old, Stover’s three little sisters already had the boys in Custer’s Creek in love-sick knots. The girls had settled in nicely when he and Katie had married, Jared and Pillar shortly after. Then, when Evelyn had married Shamus a few months later and begged to have the girls live with them—well, even though Stover and Pillar both had their doubts—it had quickly become obvious that an older, more experienced mother, or “grandma,” as they called her, was just what the triplets needed.

  Stover looked at his beautiful Daisy, too—three years old and the spitting image of her mother. Daisy brought him more joy than he’d ever imagined a child could bring. The moment she’d been born he knew he loved her as much as he possibly could. No man could love a wife the way he did, a daughter the way he did and still have anything left over. Yet when little Danny had been born only two months before—Stover was astonished at his capacity to love so perfectly yet again.


  He watched Katie—watched the way her head moved as she laughed at Berty’s stories, watched the way her eyes sparkled with complete joy and contentment. He remembered her, standing before him, columbine blossoms between her toes, a daisy sprouting from her bosom and moisture rose to his eyes. His beautiful Katie! He still had nightmares about the men who had almost overtaken her, nearly killed him, who had killed Katie’s father. He still woke up gripped with terror, fear over her well-being and what might have happened to her had Jared not arrived the moment he did that terrible night. He would’ve rather died than to know she’d been harmed. But she hadn’t, and he had lived and their life together was more than he had ever dreamed it would be.

  Katie glanced to Stover, noticing the moisture evident in his eyes as he looked at her, and she recognized the familiar expression on his face. It was the way he looked at her when he was reflecting on the past, on how they had met, nearly lost each other—when he was thinking of her and only her.

  “Just a minute, Mama,” she said to her mother. “I want to look in on Danny. Would ya keep an eye on Daisy for me, Daddy?”

  “It’s well I will, Katie-bug,” Shamus said.

  Katie walked to her husband, linked her arm through his and directed him into the parlor.

  “Ya got somethin’ on yer mind, lover?” she asked him in a quiet voice.

  Stover grinned and said, “That would be you, Katie Steele.”

  “Really?” Katie giggled, slipping her arms around his waist. “And why am I on your mind?” she asked.