by Lynn Donovan
"Very good, Beans." Mrs. Clements turned to Myrakle. "What did you have in mind for a dessert? Hmm. Something easy to carry and not too messy."
"I thought I could slice up that left over roast. And I was thinking about muffins for dessert, Mrs. Clements?"
"Great idea." Mrs. Clements intertwined her fingers and clasped her hands. "Do you have jam in your root cellar, Beans?"
"No. But we got molasses." Beans frowned.
"Well, I do. I have a scrumptious recipe for jam muffins. I'll go home and gather what we need." Mrs. Clements lifted the egg gathering basket and left through the back door.
Beans glared after her. "What's wrong with molasses muffins?"
Myrakle shrugged with a half-smile. "I suppose she wants me to learn to make her jam muffins." They laughed.
"Oh no. It's alright." Beans waved a dismissive hand. "It's just that a chuckwagon cook doesn't like having women come along making fancy girly dishes... But, now that the boss and me are cooking for brides-to-match, I s'pose I'll need to change my ways. Maybe Mrs. Clements's jam will be a good way to start me cooking them fancier little pastries."
He winced as he said the word, but Myrakle chuckled. Beans was so sweet to the girls and especially to Myrakle. Try as he might to be rough as a corn cob, he really had a soft heart. She knew it to be so when he trimmed his mustache and beard around his lips so she could see what he said. Few people took so much interest in making sure they could communicate with her... except Pa, of course.
When Myrakle woke the next morning, she inhaled the lovely aroma of bread cooking. Had Beans baked all night long? She shrugged on her dressing gown and padded to the kitchen. Mrs. Clements bent at the waist, peeking into the oven. She lifted her apron to protect her hand and pulled out two trays of jam muffins, and put two more in to cook. She was kind enough to make a lot extra for the girls to have for breakfast. Having Mrs. Clements in the kitchen was a nice experience, although Beans looked as though it pained him to have a woman, who was not one of Miss Viola's brides, taking over his kitchen.
"How long have you two been at this?" Myrakle giggled at them.
"Not long."
"Too long."
They each replied.
Myrakle giggled even more. "Well, I thank you both for helping me prepare for a surprise picnic with my Joseph."
"You are welcome," they both replied together and then looked at each other with surprise that they had answered the same.
Beans squinted one eye at Mrs. Clements, as if he didn't trust her being in agreement with him. She wrinkled her mouth disapprovingly and returned to her muffins, Gingerly removing each one, she put six to a basket she had lined with a tea towel. Dumpling sniffed the air. "Seems Dumpling approves, Mrs. Clements."
She turned with a sigh and a smile. "These are for you and your intended, not that dog!" She scowled at Dumpling. But he didn't seem to be insulted by her words and wagged his tail in anticipation of a little sampling. Myrakle always saved a small bite of everything she ate. He knew he'd get a taste eventually.
Myrakle dressed and set about her morning duties. She gathered eggs and brought them to Beans for breakfast. He handed her a cup of fresh brewed coffee as she set the basket on the cupboard. The aroma filled her nose with delight. She sipped it carefully, so as not to burn her mouth. Then went back outside to clean out the goats' stall. Gradually the other girls came into the yard to do their divvied chores. It was laundry day for Helena and Bert. They pumped water and filled the caldron over a fire. Jasmine poked her head out of the barn, just as Dumpling pawed at Myrakle's skirt. Beans was ringing the bell to call everyone inside to eat.
The extra jam muffins were centered on the sideboard, along with scrambled eggs and a heap of fried bacon strips. The girls filled the table, said grace, and ate. Chatter commenced. Myrakle glanced from mouth to mouth to catch a statement or two. Mostly talk was about their chosen groom and what they had planned to do today. Mr. Redburn was missed at the breakfast table. Jasmine speculated he was still trying to fix the one match that Miss Viola had indicated, but Mr. Redburn insisted was a mistake. No one had learned who the mistake was with or why the match wasn't right. Jasmine lamented it could be her, since she didn't have a beau yet. Violet smiled at Jasmine. "I'm sure the right man for you will make himself known before long."
Finally, it was time for Myrakle and Dumpling to load up the small wagon and head to the Penella ranch. She tingled with anticipation. And a little with anxiety. What if her surprise backfired and Joseph didn't appreciate her coming out to the Rocking P without a specific invitation. She and Joseph had ended yesterday's outing with plans for Joseph to come to the Redburn home for supper. Her joy waned. What if this coming out made him mad and he called off the arrangement?
What if...
"You ready, missy?" Mrs. Clements stepped into Myrakle's path, making eye contact.
"I— may be having second thoughts," Myrakle confessed.
"Nonsense!" Mrs. Clements waved off her concern. "I've been up since the crack of dawn baking muffins and putting up with that ole codger's grouchy attitude. You'd think he was the only cook allowed in a kitchen. Besides, I seen how Joseph Penella looks at you. He's gonna appreciate you surprising him with this basket of food. And if he does act upset for you coming out uninvited, just shove one of my muffins in his mouth. Ain't a man alive that can resist my momma's delicious jam muffins." She cackled a laugh and climbed onto the bench. "Come on Dumpling, get on up here."
Myrakle climbed up to sit beside her chaperone. "I hope you're right. I'd hate to spoil what seemed to be a good start—"
"Nonsense!" Mrs. Clements picked up the reins and popped them against the mule's back. "I seen how that boy looks at you. There's not much you could do wrong in his eyes right now."
Myrakle looked back at Beans waving goodbye. Jasmine held up crossed fingers and then blew her a kiss. Myrakle turned around to face the road with a heavy sigh. If everybody thought this was such a good idea why did she have such a dreadful feeling tying her stomach into knots?
Myrakle rubbed Dumpling's head as they rode toward the Rocking P ranch, seeking his usual calming effect on her nerves. She liked Joseph. He liked her. He'd made that very clear. When he held her, she had no doubt they were meant to be together. Her rare talent to see music, his rare talent to make musical instruments and play them, too, tied them together like nothing she could have possibly imagined.
So, why was she so on edge about taking this picnic to him as a surprise? Mrs. Clements was right about her jam muffins. They were the best sweet-treat she'd ever eaten. He would love them and now that she knew how to make them also, he'd be all the more pleased to have her as his wife. The way to a man's heart was definitely through his stomach, her mother had said more than once and Pa had agreed every time. The thought made her smile.
"There's that beautiful smile." Mrs. Clements tilted her head to meet Myrakle's eyes. "You finally calming down about this adventure?"
Myrakle grimaced a smile. How could she explain what she was feeling? Of course she was excited to see Joseph, to surprise him with a picnic. He'd talked about a large rock that stuck out of a grassy knoll. It was a lovely spot for a picnic, he had said. Perhaps she and Mrs. Clements could find the spot and Myrakle could get out to set everything up while Mrs. Clements went on to find Joseph and bring him out there. He had said it was near the river. If they followed the tree line, surely they'd find it.
"Let's follow the river and find that grassy knoll Joseph spoke of. Dumpling and I can set up the picnic if you'll go on to the Rocking P ranch and bring Joseph back to us?"
"Now you're thinking like a bride-to-be." She slapped the mule's rump with the reins and veered off the beaten path, to follow the tree line. Soon, they spotted what had to be the place Joseph had mentioned. And he was right! It was a lovely sloping hill. A huge boulder created a short wall and grass covered above, around, and below an exposed rock. The river ran just a few yards from the spot. Myrakle coul
d smell the fresh mountain stream.
Mrs. Clements pulled the mule to a halt and Myrakle stepped down, hefted the basket with a groan and tucked two quilts under her arm. Dumpling stood with his paws on the side of the wagon, anxiously waiting for her command to get down.
"Come on." She tilted her head, then patted her skirt with the quilt-draped hand. She strained to walk with the heavy basket and set it down with a sigh. What with the jar of cold brewed tea and half a dozen muffins, five beef sandwiches, six boiled eggs, sliced carrots and parsnips, three empty mason jars to drink from, and three linen napkins, it was quite a load for one small woman.
But she could handle setting it all out and wait for Mrs. Clements to bring Joseph to her. She turned to wave as Mrs. Clements rode away. A spark of excitement kindled in her heart. Soon he would come to her, and she would run to him. It would be just like a scene out of a dime-store novel. He'd take her into his arms and tell her how happy he was to see her. He'd kiss her for bringing this delightful surprise to him. She'd take his hand and lead him to the quilt to show him what she'd brought.
Mrs. Clements would go sit on her quilt and they would have a wonderful afternoon. There was plenty of food for all three of them. It was only right to bring enough for Mrs. Clements too. Even though she promised to keep at a reasonable distance to allow them an appropriate amount of privacy, she still would need to eat. Myrakle flipped one quilt in the air and let it float to the ground, then walked to where she stood a few yards from the boulder toward the river and laid out the other quilt for her and Joseph.
Dumpling ran to the trees and back to her side. He must have seen a squirrel. They were plentiful along this river bank. Dumpling circled the quilt, stepped onto one corner, turned three tight circles and flopped down. His ribs expanded and compressed as he laid his head over his front paws.
Myrakle smiled. "You tired already?"
She continued to set out the food, taking a portion to Mrs. Clements's quilt. Then sat opposite from Dumpling where she could watch for the wagon to return with her Joseph. She repositioned so she'd look pretty for him when he saw her from far off. Her foot tingled. She turned the other direction so she wasn't sitting on her foot. This made her back hurt, so she repositioned again, arranging her skirt so it covered her legs and lounged back, propped up on her elbows. No that wouldn't do. She sat up. Folding her hands in her lap, she watched across the prairie.
She should have set this picnic near a tree so she could lean against it. She repositioned again. She could lie on her tummy. No, then she couldn't see Joseph coming. She stood. Maybe she should move the quilt closer to the boulder. She could lean against it for support. Walking over to look, she shook her head. No, the slope of the land was a little too steep for sitting. Where she first put the quilt was better. She sat.
And she waited.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Mrs. Clements!" Joseph looked up from cleaning the frog of Thunder's hoof. Sudden fear shot through him like a streak of lightning. "Is everything alright?"
"Of course, Joseph. You're Miss Myrakle has brought you a surprise. She's down by the rock, waiting for you to join her for a picnic. Can you get away for a bit?"
Trepidation filled his heart. "She's alone... by the river?" He glanced across the stall at his pa. "Pa, I don't trust those scoundrels we saw yesterday. I've gotta go to Myrakle."
"Of course, son. Martha, why don't you stay here. Let Joseph take the wagon and fetch Myrakle and her dog."
"But... what about a chaperone?" Joseph hesitated, still holding Thunder's hoof.
"You go get Miss Myrakle and bring her and the picnic. Don't dilly-dally. It'll be fine so long as you come back here in due time. You'll all be safer here than by the river, until we figure out where those men went to."
"Right." He dropped Thunder's hoof, grabbed a shotgun, and helped Mrs. Clements down from the seat. Mounting the bench, himself, he flipped the reins over the mule's back, hurrying her toward the river. Myrakle was alone and vulnerable. Hopefully Dumpling would alert her if those scoundrels showed up. But then what? How could one dog protect her from their mischievous plans?
He drove the mule faster than he should have. The picturesque rock outcrop was just a mile east. She had to be alright. His pa and brother Adam had ridden for hours but only found evidence of their camping along the river, not any evidence that they were still around. Hopefully they had moved on toward town or Fort Bent, or somewhere else. They had never come by his pa's ranch asking for work. So why would they want anything else? Unless they had turned into horse thieves. And if that were true, why hadn't they already attempted to steal some of the horses? Why had they asked to bring their horses to the ranch for some smithing tools? It just didn't make sense.
Joseph slapped the reins on the mule's back again, even though she was trotting faster than she ought to. He'd reward her with some sweet oats when they got back to the barn.
The grassy knoll lay ahead, the rock was on the other side, he'd just pull around and gather Myrakle into his arms. Anticipation of holding her stirred something in his gut. He glared at the apex of the knoll, she must be sitting down, or else he'd be able to see her. He pulled the reins to direct the mule around the slope. A quilt was laid out to the side of the outcrop.
No Myrakle.
He slapped the reins. On around to the front side of the rock, another quilt laid haphazardly. Had the wind—? Waxed paper and sandwiches lay strewn across the ground from an overturned basket. Crushed muffins and smashed mason jars scattered among hoof prints that sunk into the gooey mess. But Myrakle and Dumpling were nowhere.
Joseph leapt from the wagon seat without halting the mule or setting the brake.
"Myrakle!" He stopped. She couldn't hear him hollering. "Dumpling! Here, boy! Dumpling!"
He scoured the ground. He'd have to follow the tracks— but not with the mule and wagon. He ran and jumped onto the seat and put the mule into a full run. He'd get back to the ranch, tell his pa, and saddle Thunder. He'd follow those heathens' tracks better on Thunder and with his pa's help, they'd find Myrakle. And she'd better be alive, or there'd be nowhere for them to hide. He'd find them and kill them graveyard dead!
The ranch came into view. Froth collected under the mule's harness. He'd driven her too hard. He stood in the wagon. "Pa!" Was he too far away. "PA!" Drawing in a big lung full of air, he whistled.
Mrs. Clements and his pa came out on the porch, spotted him driving the mule with such break-neck fury, and ran into the yard. "What is it son? You're gonna kill that mule!" Pa's eyes roved the bed of the wagon. "Where's Myrakle?"
"I don't know." Joseph panted as he leapt from the wagon. His pa took the harness and eased the mule over to the water trough. She buried her nose into the water and lapped the cool liquid as fast as she could. Froth trailed into the water with each stroke of her tongue. Pa dipped his hand in the water, and poured some over the mule's neck and head to cool her down.
Joseph ran into the barn to saddle Thunder, yelling over his shoulder. "There was sign of a struggle! She's gone! So is Dumpling. They got her, Pa! Those good-for-nothing— I know it was them. I saw tracks. I'm gonna go find her. Get Seth and Adam and come help me!"
"Yes, of course!" He let go of the mule and ran to the house. "Seth! Adam! Come saddle up your horses. Myrakle's been—"
He couldn't bring himself to say it.
"Kidnapped!" Mrs. Clements shrieked as the boys rushed on to the porch to see what all the fuss was about. They looked at Mrs. Clements with wide, startled eyes and gave her a nod. Running to the barn to prepare their mounts, they fell back as Thunder and Joseph stormed out of the barn in a full-tilt run.
"Where was she?" Seth hollered.
"By the rock!" Joseph screamed over his shoulder, then leaned over Thunder and let him have his head.
Dumpling pawed at Myrakle's arm. Was it time for breakfast already? Behind her closed eyes, she could tell diffused sunlight filled the room. How much had she overslept? What was t
hat stench? She opened her eyes. A flood of fear swamped her heart. Where was she? A cave? Or a mine shaft. She scrambled back, kicking herself upright to sit. A white-hot shard of pain slammed into the back of her head. "Owwww..."
She looked around. Was she alone?
Dumpling lowered his front end and put his back end in the air. "Dumpling? What is it?"
She lifted her eyes. Two mud-covered boots stood in front of Dumpling. She let her eyes rise, following the dirty pant legs, denim shirt, and black Stetson hat. An unkempt, unshaven man stood over her with a wide, sinister grin. Greasy hair hung like a curtain over his eyes and cascaded over his collar. His lips moved, but the pain in her head made her eyesight blurry. He squatted, angling his face closer to hers. "I said, get control of your dog, or I'll do it for ya."
He had a gun. Why hadn't she noticed it before? "Don't hurt him."
She pulled Dumpling into her lap and stroked his ears. Vibration emanated from his chest. She shushed him. "Calm down, Dumpling. Please."
"That's better. Now, all we want to know is where do the Penella's keep their collection of fiddles and such?"
She stared at him. Fiddles? They wanted Joseph's fiddles? Why? How could that be important enough to kidnap her—
A sensation punched her in the gut. She'd been kidnapped! From the picnic area. Mrs. Clements had gone to fetch Joseph. They'd know Myrakle and Dumpling were gone. A slight sense of relief washed over her, then another wave of fear. How would Joseph know where they had taken her? She didn't even know where she was. "Wh... where am I?"
"Never mind where you are, missy. Just tell us where we can find them Rocking P instruments."
Us? Her eyes darted around the mine shaft. Two other scoundrels squatted against the muddy wall. They bore the same sickening grins. Why did they look at her like starving coyotes staring at a snared rabbit? "Why on earth would you want fiddles?"
He tossed his head back with laughter. She considered kicking him in the throat, but held back because of what Dumpling would do if she let go of him. The man brought beady eyes down to meet hers.
