Herd the Music

by Lynn Donovan

  "Well, hello." A man stepped out onto the porch eyeing Dumpling lying beside MaryBelle. He lifted his gaze to Myrakle. "And welcome to you, too, to the Rocking P Ranch."

  He took long strides to come to Myrakle and Joseph, his hand extended to shake hers. She put hers out and they gripped a firm handshake. "I'm Sebastian Penella, Joseph's pa." He turned to Mrs. Clements and dipped his head. "Martha."

  "Sebastian." Mrs. Clements responded with an air of nervousness.

  Myrakle looked to Joseph for an explanation, but he made no attempt to explain the odd exchange between his father and the widow.

  “Pa, we ran into some men out by Cottonwood Point. I suspect they were up to no good."

  "What makes you think that, son?"

  "They had worked for Chance Redburn, back 'fore his ranch... well before he moved to Miss Viola's house. They wore dirty clothes like they been living out along the river this whole time. They were pretty filthy and—"

  "They were looking for trouble, Sebastian!" Mrs. Clements stepped up closer to Joseph's pa. "It looked like one of them was wearing a dead man's clothes, I tell ya. Had a bullet hole in the shoulder, but he didn't no more act wounded than you or I." She screwed her mouth up in disgust.

  Joseph glanced at Mrs. Clements. "Right. And one of 'em said his horse had thrown a shoe, then he recanted and said it was just lame, but none of the horses had an abnormal gait. I just didn't trust them Pa. If they were looking for work, why didn't they just say so?"

  "You're right son. It don't sound right. You sure they kept going toward town or the Fort?"

  "Well, no. I didn't stay to watch if they kept going t'ward town. I had Miss Estes and Mrs. Clements with me. I was hoping you and" —He flipped a quick glance to Myrakle— "Adam might go take a look along the river to see if there was any evidence of what they might-a been up to."

  Mr. Penella shook his head, thoughtful. "Seth went to town—"

  Myrakle took Joseph's elbow and gave him a gentle squeeze.

  "So, yeah, I'll get Adam and we'll go check things out." He smiled real big as he turned his attention to Myrakle. "Now, who is this you brought with ya?"

  "Oh yeah! Pa, this is Myrakle Estes and her companion dog, Dumpling. Miss Viola sent for her. 'Course it's Chance running his aunt's matchmakin' business since she passed." He paused for the briefest moment. "Myrakle, this is my pa, Sebastian Penella."

  She curtsied since they had already shook hands.

  "Please to meet you both." He stepped on the porch. "Come inside, won't you? Martha, would you like a cup-a-tea?"

  "That's very kind of you, Sebastian." She gathered her skirt and took Mr. Penella's elbow as he escorted her into the house. Myrakle and Joseph walked behind them. Dumpling made no effort to move from his spot beside MaryBelle. Myrakle bent to pat his head. "It's alright Dumpling, you stay with your new friend."

  The big open room was arranged with three seating areas, one around a large hearth, one in the middle of the room, and one around a small table with a game of chess. Wooden panels covered all four walls and gleamed with an oil-scrubbed finish. A wide set of stairs rose a few steps, then turned to continue along the open wall. A rail divided the upstairs from the vast open space below. Myrakle craned her neck to look at the wooden beams across the extra high ceiling. To the left, a large open doorway revealed a dining room. Mr. Penella and Mrs. Clements walked through there on their way to the kitchen. Joseph gestured for her to sit on the middle divan.

  A bowl of peanuts centered a low table. Joseph reached out and took a handful. "You want some?"

  Myrakle shook her head. Her nerves were too stirred to eat. "When can I see your violin shop?"

  "Oh sure. What I mean to say is, soon as Mrs. Clements is ready to walk out to the old homestead." He looked toward the kitchen. "The shop is in Ma and Pa's first home on this land."

  "Well, we're burning daylight." Mrs. Clements bustled out of the kitchen, Mr. Penella hot on her trail. "We need to let these kids go look at them fiddles your boys make."

  "I don't think you need it, but here's your shawl, Mrs. Clements." Mr. Penella had a look on his face Myrakle couldn't interpret, but he sure looked flushed.

  "Oh thank you, Sebastian." She turned fluttering eyelids toward Joseph. "Will we walk or shall we ride in the buggy?"

  "I'll take you in the buggy, Mrs. Cements. What I mean to say is, if you'd be more comfortable riding out to the homestead, the buggy is still hitched up to Thunder.

  "What do you think I am, a decrepit old woman? I can walk a country mile if I need to."

  Joseph's eyes widened. "I didn't mean you no insult, Mrs. Clements!"

  The widow looked at Mr. Penella. "None taken. I should think you two youngin's would enjoy a nice leisurely stroll out to the cabin. I'd love it too. I can chaperone from a little ways back and you two can talk matters over without me all up in your business." She smiled, glancing again at Mr. Penella.

  "That does sound nice." Myrakle smiled at Joseph.

  "Then that's what we'll do." Joseph smiled back at her. "Just let me go unhitch Thunder and let him have some water and feed while we are gone. He'll be fresh to take us back to town later."

  "Son," Mr. Penella held up his hand to stop Joseph. "I'll unhitch Thunder, you go on, now. I'll get Adam and we'll ride out to Cottonwood Point and see what those scoundrels might-a been up to."

  Joseph nodded, and put out his elbow for Myrakle. She sidled up next to him and they walked out onto the porch, like an Easter parade contestant. Dumpling rose to his feet, panting. MaryBelle sat up, attentive to the barn. She took off running.

  "Oh. Did you want to see the puppies?" Joseph turned to Myrakle.

  She looked at Dumpling's sad eyes. "Yes. Will she let Dumpling come too? He seems to be quite fond of your MaryBelle."

  "Well, let's just see. She don't let Max get anywhere near them. But maybe now that the pups are getting older, she may be more relaxed."

  "How old are the puppies?" Myrakle pat her side, signaling Dumpling to follow.

  "Four weeks. They just opened their eyes a little over a week ago."

  "Awww. I can't wait to see them."

  Joseph led her and Mrs. Clements into the barn, down to the last horse stall and opened the solid wooden gate. MaryBelle slipped under and had already lain down to nurse her pups when Joseph pulled the gate open. Dumpling sat outside of the stall, as if he knew he wasn't welcome. Myrakle let go of Joseph's arm and stepped inside. "Oh MaryBelle. They're beautiful."

  She squatted down to look closer. Eagerly they wriggled and squirmed against MaryBelle's belly. Her maw gaped as if she were smiling proudly to show off her litter. Myrakle held up a finger. "One, two, three... I think I see six."

  "Yep. Six puppies. Four males and two females. And—" He reached down to lift one who was buried under the others. "This one's the runt, but he's a fine looking pup. Almost the same color as your Dumpling."

  Myrakle reached out and took the puppy. Nuzzling against its soft fur, she held it up to look at his dark blue eyes. "Are they cocker spaniels?"

  "No, more of a cow dog-spaniel mix but if they're anything like Max and MaryBelle, they'll be smart and good ranch dogs."

  Myrakle nuzzled her cheek against the puppy's pink, velvety muzzle and then put him back with the others. MaryBelle sniffed the puppy and laid back to rest while the six eagerly supped.

  "Are you ready to see how violins are made?" Joseph put out his hand and took hers.

  "I am." Myrakle patted her skirt for Dumpling.

  He tore himself away from watching MaryBelle and the pups to trot along behind Myrakle and Joseph. Mrs. Clements walked along with him, keeping the promised reasonable distance for a private conversation. In what seemed like no time, they walked up to a small one-room cabin. The windows were closed with wooden shutters and the door looked as if it were boarded up.

  "And this is the original homestead." Joseph presented the little cabin with a flourished hand. Myrakle stepped onto the honed porch.
"How do we get in?"

  Joseph smiled. "It's not really boarded up. We just make it look like it is to keep wanderers from trying to break in."

  They entered the log-and-mud cabin with the removal of two boards. The one-room shelter had been emptied of household furniture and filled instead with tables, chairs, and a single pot-belly stove for warmth. Pronged hooks were screwed into the horizontal logs that made up the interior and exterior walls. Everywhere there were violins, violas, and cellos hanging or leaning. The same in various stages of construction lay on the three tables. "We each have our own style for building the instruments, so we made three separate tables. This one is mine."

  He stopped next to a table with three partial violins.

  "Adam prefers the larger cello, so he tends to stick with making those. And Seth would just as soon make a viola as to make a violin. He says he just lets the wood tell him what it wants to be made into." Joseph smiled.

  Mrs. Clements circled the room, looking over each instrument. Then her eyes roved over the finished creations, hanging on the walls. "My goodness. What a talent you boys have. I remember when you were born, Joseph. Right here in this very cabin. Me and your ma were good friends and I helped her when her time came to bring you into this world. No doctor had come to Bent yet, only the military boys at the fort. We women were on our own with such things." She looked up, misty eyed and smiled sweetly at Joseph. "Your pa had the main part of that big ole house built by time your brother Seth come along. It was complete, as you know it today, when Adam came, bless your ma's soul."

  Joseph smiled sadly back at her. "Yes ma'am. Thank you. This's a hobby we enjoy. Pa lets us work out here. He says it's better than letting the old cabin go to ruin."

  Mrs. Clements admired a particular viola with a two-tone wooden inlay design. "You sell these?"

  "Naw, there's not much of a market here in Bent. We're the only folks who know how to play. Besides we do this for fun, really."

  "Well. Why don't you teach others and then you'd create your own market."

  “That's a decent enough idea, Mrs. Clements, but with the ranch chores and horse training, we don't got a lot of extra time other than to make the instruments."

  She nodded, thoughtful. "Have you ever thought of putting an advert in the papers?"

  Joseph rubbed his chin. "Honestly, there was a fellow from New York who tried to talk Pa into having us make a contracted supply of our instruments. But we talked it over and decided we didn't want to get all tangled up in an obligation to make them. It would take all the joy out of the leisure. We want to be able to make them when we can and enjoy doing it. Then have our choice in which ones we take to a shindig to share our music with others in town."

  Mrs. Clements turned from Joseph to inspect another excellently designed cello. "It just seems a shame. I'm betting you could make some good money selling these. I can only imagine how the musicians could use such fine instruments. Especially in New York."

  Joseph shrugged.

  Myrakle reached out to a violin that lay on the end of Joseph's table and strummed its string. "Oh it's lovely." Her eyes rose to follow the prism stream that floated into the air. "This one's finished?"

  "Just about. I wanted to burn our brand on its back and then it's ready to hang on the wall."

  "You brand the instruments?"

  "Yeah." He held up a tiny branding iron. The end had a backward P with a rocker under it, like their horse brand. "I'll put it into the stove's fire and sear it into the wood, right here." He lifted the fiddle and pointed at the base.

  "What a quaint idea." Myrakle marveled at the twinkle in his eye. These instruments made him as happy as playing the piano made her. This unexpected connection between them warmed her insides. She'd never dreamed having a husband who understood her passion for music so completely. She knew having a husband would be the most intimate relationship she'd ever have with another living human being. But never in her wildest imagination had she ever anticipated that she would see a reflection of her own soul in another's eyes, like she did in Joseph's. Her heart sped up and pounded against her throat every time he touched her.

  Joseph and Mrs. Clements suddenly turned to Dumpling. Joseph spoke, "What's the matter boy?"

  Myrakle dropped her gaze to her companion. He hunkered down, facing the door, his lips vibrated, exposing his teeth. "What is it, Dumpling?"

  At the sound of her voice, he turned his head and hurried to sit in front of her feet. His intense stare remained on the door. "Joseph, is something out there? A bear or a mountain lion?"

  He stepped closer to a small window and pulled a calico curtain back, then pushed the shutter open a crack. "I don't see anything. There's not much in the way of threatening animals out here. A squirrel, or raccoon, or opossum maybe, but we don't have anything menacing like bears or lions. That's farther west."

  "Well, Dumpling is trained to only alert when something is a danger to me. So something is out there."

  He opened the door and stepped out on the small porch. Dumpling rushed out ahead of Joseph and barked. Joseph looked all around and turned back to Myrakle and Mrs. Clements. "I don't see anything. Maybe we should get on back to the house."

  Mrs. Clements nodded agreement. "Maybe you two can come back another day. I could pack a nice picnic basket and you could invite Sebastian to join us."

  Joseph looked long and hard at his chaperone. Finally, he nodded. "I could do that." He turned to Myrakle. "Would you like to come back here and have a picnic?"

  Worried eyes swept the exterior of the prairie surrounding the cabin, a thin grove of tree's leaves flickered in the sunlight to her left. "Is that the river over there?"

  "Yes. Anywhere you see a stand a trees, more than likely, there's a river keeping them watered."

  "Then, yes. I think a picnic near the river would be lovely." She examined Dumpling's behavior. He had relaxed and panted at her side. "So long as Dumpling is acting like this."

  They laughed.

  Joseph wrapped his arm around Myrakle. His eyes met hers and his forehead just touched her forehead. "And I know the perfect spot, too. There's a rock jutting out of a grassy knoll, it's a beautiful spot. Just the place for a picnic with my girl." He smiled tenderly. Mrs. Clements cleared her throat. Joseph jumped back from Myrakle. It was so easy to forget Mrs. Clements was there.

  "Come on. It's after lunch time. I smelled the beginnings of a big pot of chili before we left. I'll bet Pa's been cooking it since I told him I was going to fetch you today. Probably planning to make his famous cornbread too. You'll love it. I promise." Joseph took her hand and pulled her in the direction they had walked.

  Myrakle looked back at the stand of trees. Dumpling no longer acted like anything was threatening. Whatever it had been, it was gone now. "You suppose it was a squirrel or opossum he alerted to earlier?"

  Joseph shrugged. "No telling. But probably."

  She sighed. "He's trained to ignore everything except what could hurt me." She turned to Dumpling. "Come." She commanded Dumpling with a pat on her skirt. He pushed himself up off the ground and trotted to her side.

  Taking in the lovely open prairie and the line of trees that revealed the swooping path of the river, as they walked, she pondered a plan. A picnic would be lovely out here. Maybe tomorrow she could make a basket of food, herself, with Mrs. Clements's help, of course, and surprise Joseph. She smiled at their chaperone. She'd bring the idea up after they got to the brides' house. For now, she'd just enjoy walking with Joseph and Dumpling.

  Whatever had stirred her companion dog to alert trouble remained a concern. He had never alerted for no reason. Certainly not because of a squirrel.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  "Could you stay just a moment, Mrs. Clements?"

  "Land's sake, child. You don't need me here every minute. You got Mr. Redburn and Beans to supervise you and Joseph's courting."

  "Yes. I know. I have a question." Myrakle lowered his gaze. Crimson filled her cheeks. Mrs. Clements
mouthed, "Oh." As if she knew the impending question had something to do with the intimate interactions of a man and woman when they married. Myrakle suppressed a smile. If it held her there at the house a little longer, so be it. Myrakle would straighten the misconception soon enough.

  "Of course, my dear. I'll just fix myself a cup of tea and you say your goodbyes to your intended." Mrs. Clements hurried off to the kitchen.

  Myrakle stepped out on the porch where Joseph waited. She ducked her chin close to her chest, coyly. He stretched out his arms and enveloped her against him. It felt so good to be in his arms. Safe. Protected. And with Dumpling at their side she knew no harm could ever befall her. A sigh filled her ribs and slowly released against Joseph's warm hold. He touched her chin with his forefinger and tilted her face to meet his. "I've enjoyed today."

  "Me too." She smiled.

  His lips hovered over hers, searing heat rose in her midsection, filling her face with a warm flush. He lowered his lips to brush against hers. She closed her eyes and let him kiss her. A sensation bigger than all the beautiful colors swirling from a piano concerto filled her heart. She rose on tiptoes to press in against his kiss. She wanted more. So much more. Joseph staggered back, breaking the spell. Myrakle blinked, heaving for air she had no idea she needed. He too was flushed crimson. "I-I'll call on you tomorrow after we get done with our chores."

  Myrakle simply nodded. Not trusting her ability to speak.

  "Well." Joseph stepped back another stride. "Until tomorrow."

  She nodded again but this time she managed a smile. He would see her tomorrow, but not after his chores for supper. It would be at the noon hour. She stayed on the porch until he was out of sight, then she skipped sideways and ran to the kitchen to tell Mrs. Clements her plan.

  "I'll double the bread batch, so you'll have enough for a picnic. Surely the other girls will need fixin's for picnics, too." Beans grinned from ear to ear.