Bess: A Pioneer Woman's Journey of Courage, Grit and Love

by Charles Cranston Jett

  Bess just smiled.

  As they walked back up the street on the other side, passing the hardware store once again, they could see the sign for the livery, which was about a block west and behind the hardware store. “Let’s go over and see the livery,” said Bess. “We’ll be going there in the morning to buy a horse. Maybe we can get an idea of what they have.”

  “I don’t know much about horses,” said Linda.

  “Papa helped me put together a list of what to look for when buying a horse. I’ll show it to you when we get back to the hotel.”

  “Part of the plan,” laughed Linda as she took hold of Bess’s hand.

  “Precisely,” laughed Bess.

  The livery consisted of a storefront where they sold saddles, bridles, blankets, curry combs, and other supplies, and on the side there was a large barn where Bess assumed they would shoe the horses and provide stable space when needed. Bess and Linda walked to the rear of the barn, where there was a large corral with about twenty horses.

  After standing by the fence and looking at the horses for a few minutes, Bess said, “Looks like they have some good horses, but we won’t know for sure until tomorrow.”

  “Your plan? Your list?” said Linda as she smiled.

  “Of course,” Bess said as she poked Linda gently on the arm as they started back to the hotel holding hands.

  After another supper listening to Phyllis, the other guest, talk at length again about the West Coast, Linda and Bess each wrote a letter home to tell their parents where they were and that all was well. Bess did not mention that she had met Linda. She had never brought up the subject about her lack of interest in boys—despite Mama’s continued efforts to encourage her to be courted. I can never do that! Neither Mama nor Papa would understand, thought Bess. I wonder if Linda mentioned me in her letter.

  During the night they cuddled together again—touching, petting, and kissing. It was a wonderful feeling. She seems to be a complete person, Bess thought. Smart, affectionate, considerate, all of the kinds of things I value. And she seems to know what she’s doing, Bess thought, as she knew exactly what would excite Bess.

  Bess knew full well that her budding intimate relationship with Linda was not appropriate, but somehow it felt so very right. She marveled at the effect Linda’s warm touch had on her. She wondered what was happening to her or who she even was, but whatever it was, she enjoyed it immensely. And she was becoming very fond of Linda, hoping that she was giving Linda the same kind of pleasure that Bess was feeling. Bess just wanted to be with her. It was only her second night in Dickinson. It felt right. She slept like a baby.

  The next morning, Linda and Bess talked over breakfast about buying a horse. It was clear to Bess that Linda did not have any experience riding, nor did she know much about horses, but she was very much interested and curious.

  “Papa bought me a horse in Cando,” Bess said. “Her name was Patches. He got her so I could learn how to ride and take care of her.”

  “I’ve never been on a horse,” Linda said. “I’ve always wanted to. There were places near my home in Minnesota where they had horses. But my mother and father never encouraged me to learn how to ride.”

  “Why?” asked Bess.

  “My mother said that her friends didn’t ride. Why that applied to me, I don’t know. I was interested—but she wasn’t. Always made me a little angry at her—wanting me to do things that she enjoyed and not wanting me to do things that she didn’t.”

  “That’s disappointing for sure! Riding is fun. Patches is a good horse. She has a beautiful black coat with white patches. She is very gentle and fun to ride … frisky, too. I’ll miss her.”

  Linda smiled. “I envy you. I grew up in a family with quite a bit of wealth. But in a way, you had wealth of a different kind—a more important kind—one that I admire. Your parents thought about what you liked to do, not what they thought you were supposed to do.”

  Linda’s comment reminded Bess of Mama’s encouragement that Bess should concentrate on preparing herself as a homemaker. “They did, especially Papa,” Bess said. “Both of my parents encouraged me to just be happy. They knew that I loved working with my hands, and they nourished that.” That wasn’t entirely true, but Bess wished that it were so. Tears filled Bess’s eyes as she thought about her parents, but she didn’t cry. She just missed them terribly.

  After breakfast, Bess shared with Linda what Papa had taught her about buying the right horse. Linda listened intently as Bess went through the list.

  The first item on the list was that you should not choose a horse by just looking at its best features. Instead, you should eliminate horses that had important defects. “The greatest strength of a chain is limited by its weakest link,” said Bess. “Papa told me that, and that applies to horses as well. That is really important,” said Bess.

  “I think you’re convincing yourself more than me,” said Linda as she focused on what Bess was saying.

  “I think so, too,” laughed Bess. “Second, choose a trail horse—a horse that is smart, doesn’t get flustered by noises, and is gentle and obedient.”

  “A trail horse?”

  “One that will be good on the prairie,” said Bess. “Not all horses are that way. And be wary of horse traders. If a horse trader doesn’t know you, he will probably try to sell his worst horse by showing that horse first. They will most likely try that trick on a woman because they think that women didn’t know anything about horses.”

  “They think we are dumb, I suppose,” said Linda.

  “Absolutely,” said Bess. “So you should look at the first few horses and reject them immediately, because the trader will try to emphasize the horse’s positive features. Stand your ground and demand to see the next one. That way the trader will know that you are serious and show you the good ones.”

  “Makes sense,” said Linda.

  “And there are many things to look for in a horse. Like does the horse stand square; are there any disfigurements or overdevelopment on one side or the other; is the horse distracted by sudden movement or sound. You must ride the horse to see if it is bright, alert, and responsive. Is the horse easy to mount and dismount? Is it obedient? And after all of that is the most important thing: how do you feel about the horse? Do want to own it? After all, it will be your constant companion. Your best friend on the prairie.”

  “It’s a lot to think about,” said Linda. “Makes me feel dizzy.”

  “I understand,” said Bess. “But it’s all necessary to consider.”

  Buying a horse will be my most important purchase, thought Bess. Her horse would be with her every day in the near-term future—every day and every step on every trail. So I better get it right.

  Together they walked up the street and a block west of the hardware store to the livery while Bess seemed to be muttering to herself the items on her list about purchasing a horse. They went inside the storefront by the horse barn and met the owner—a tall man who was wearing a dirty straw hat, blue denim trousers, a grey cotton shirt with tobacco-stained breast pocket, and mud-caked cowboy boots. “Mornin’, miss,” he said.

  “I want to see some horses. I’m in need of a good trail horse,” said Bess.

  “Come out back,” said the trader. “Horses are there. Wait by the fence and I’ll bring the one you need.”

  Linda smiled at Bess as together they carefully walked out past the barn and through what appeared to be a field of cow pies to the corral and waited for the trader to appear.

  The trader came back shortly with a horse—a pinto that, to Bess, seemed small. Probably thinks I need a little horse for pretty riding, thought Bess.

  “I don’t think so,” said Bess to the trader who looked disappointed with what he heard. “I need a good trail horse.”

  “Okie dokie,” said the trader and led the pinto back into the shed.

  It took Bess about two hours to select the horse she thought would be right for her. Linda and Bess smiled at one another when t
he trader tried to do exactly as Papa had said he would. They’d looked at four horses: Bess rejected the first three, which apparently convinced the trader that Bess knew what she was doing.

  The fourth horse was a two-year-old mare, black with a white diamond patch on her forehead, and seemed friendly and gentle. When Bess took her for a short ride, she was very obedient. She would stop when Bess wanted her to stop. She would turn properly. She seemed to be a good trail horse—she had brains, a good temperament, and seemed to have been well-trained. Based on what Bess had seen, she felt comfortable and decided to buy her.

  “I’ll take her,” said Bess. “Good horse. Good trail horse.”

  The trader seemed pleased. He led the horse back to the shed and came back. “C’mon, let’s settle up,” he said, as he motioned Bess and Linda to the livery office.

  Bess bought the horse and the trader told her that the horse didn’t have a name. Bess had already thought about naming her—she had decided to call the horse “Annabel” after her high school friend who had a bubbly enthusiasm and wavy black hair.

  Linda liked the name and laughed when Bess told her about the reason for it.

  Bess also bought a comfortable saddle, a sturdy bridle, and a blanket from the trader, who seemed to have gained a lot of respect for her knowledge of horses. It was clear that he thought Bess had made a wise purchase. She then took some time negotiating a boarding arrangement for Annabel at the livery until she would be ready to set out for Haley.

  With the purchase of Annabel and the equipment, Bess thanked the trader. She had completed the things she needed to do in Dickinson and now faced the reality that she would be setting out into the unknown. Alone, she thought.

  The reality of her journey alone to homestead seemed to awaken Bess from what had felt like a dream. She was enjoying immensely being with Linda and was beginning to feel that she had found a real companion. A partner, she thought. But reality told her that she would be going to the Haley area alone—without her new companion. She would need to look over the land and sections that she and Linda had identified to be available for homesteading. Then she would have to go to the town of Lemmon, South Dakota, to file her claim.

  “Looks like a good horse, Bess,” said Linda.

  “Hope so,” replied Bess. “Time will tell. I followed what Papa told me to do.”

  “That you did,” said Linda as she nudged Bess slightly on the arm and smiled with a hint of what Bess thought was admiration.

  Admiration, thought Bess as she looked into Linda’s eyes. I admire everything I know about her. And I want to know more. I enjoy all that I know about her—from the way the breeze blows through her hair to her soft and beautiful voice. I want to learn more about her.

  The day was bright and clear and as Bess and Linda walked back toward the hotel, they stopped at the café where they had the excellent fried chicken the day before, but this time had a traditional open-face hot beef sandwich. While Bess seemed satisfied and, indeed, much relieved at completing the purchase of a horse, the two ate in silence—each consumed by her own private thoughts. Bess was coming to the realization that her limited time with this new and delightful woman was coming to a close. But maybe only temporarily, she hoped.

  As Bess and Linda headed back to the hotel, Bess began to feel overwhelmed and sad. The unexpected reality Bess had tried to ignore was approaching: Linda would be leaving. The thought saddened her, because for the first time in her life, she had found someone with whom she was totally at ease and who she felt shared the same feelings and emotions. Bess was genuinely attracted to Linda, not only as a friend, but in some way that she had never experienced before, in a physical and sensual way, she thought. She was excited when Linda touched her—it had sort of a magic effect—and she felt so comfortable and normal when they would lie close together at night. And the kisses. The kisses! She couldn’t wait for the night to arrive so she could embrace Linda—even though the night would draw them closer to the time when they would separate. As she thought about the upcoming night, she found herself daydreaming about the night before.

  Linda quickly interrupted Bess’s thoughts. “We should probably go to the train depot and get my ticket to Miles City.”

  Rather reluctantly, Bess replied, “I suppose so.” I wonder if she feels the same way.

  Linda looked at Bess with a sad expression on her face, and the smile that Bess had become so accustomed to was missing. Their eyes filled with tears.

  “I don’t want to leave,” Linda said hesitantly as she took hold of Bess’s arm, “but I made a commitment to my aunt and uncle that I would be staying with them for a while in Miles City. I’m looking forward to seeing them, but don’t want to live there. I just don’t know what I want to do in the long run.”

  Bess secretly hoped that Linda wanted to spend more time with her. What Linda had just said brought a wave of joy to her heart. Maybe, she thought. Just maybe.

  They walked in silence to the train depot and went inside where there were several people waiting for the eastbound train. Linda approached the ticket booth as Bess waited silently by the window facing the tracks. After a few moments, Linda walked over to Bess with a ticket in hand.

  “It leaves at nine tomorrow morning,” she said. Bess forced a smile and nodded her head.

  Linda and Bess had supper together, and Bess tried her hardest to stay in light spirits. Linda smiled and said, “The ticket agent told me that there is another railroad that goes from Miles City to the town of Bowman. Is that far from Haley?”

  “I don’t think so,” Bess said with a feeling of surprise and anticipation. Was Linda hinting at the possibility of meeting again? Bess suddenly exclaimed, “Maybe we could meet in Bowman!” She wasn’t at all worried that she might appear to be forward.

  Linda smiled. “That’s what I was thinking.”

  Bess returned her smile, touched her hand, and breathed a sigh of relief. “I would like that. I would like that very much.”

  For a moment, it was just the two of them in the room, as they stared into each other’s eyes and they silently understood that their budding and promising friendship was only at its beginning. Bess had a feeling of exhilaration at the thought, and from the expression on her face, so did Linda.

  They spent the night in an embrace, and Bess did not want to let go. She was worried that she would forget how Linda’s body felt against her body. The touch. The caressing. Her warmth. The kissing. The thought of seeing Linda again in Bowman made her heart swell.

  They had touched each other’s hearts.

  Something was happening that Bess had ever experienced before.

  Something wonderful.

  Chapter Nine

  Bess awoke early and greeted the early morning with both a sense of anticipation of what was to come and of sadness and dread at the thought of the impending separation from Linda. She lay motionless in the bed beside the sleeping Linda. Linda would be staying with an aunt and uncle who lived in Miles City, and had written down the address that Bess should use to write to her. Write to her. At least I can communicate with her, thought Bess. We have a connection. Something meaningful. Something that I don’t want to lose.

  Bess rose silently from the bed and went to the window. There were white puffy clouds in the sky and occasionally one would pass over the bright sun and cast shadows upon the town. In a sense, that’s how I feel, thought Bess—rays of hope combined with shadows of uncertainty and anxiety. Maybe this is love. I wonder what love feels like. I don’t really know, but whatever this is, it certainly is intense. She looked back at the bed at the sleeping Linda, walked over, and crawled in beside her. She put her arm around Linda and silently mourned the impending loss. Maybe it isn’t a loss, she thought. We have Bowman! Bowman. That thought gave her heart a small jolt of happiness in the midst of sorrow, and she snuggled closer to Linda.

  Bess must have fallen asleep because the next thing she felt was Linda’s warm embrace. “Good morning, Bess,” said Linda
lovingly. “We have to face the day.”

  Bess embraced Linda and they kissed once again. “Guess you’re right,” said Bess, trying to maintain her composure.

  After they got out of bed and prepared themselves for the day, Bess looked into Linda’s eyes as they were gathering their things to leave the hotel. She returned Bess’s gaze and smiled with both that external and internal beauty that Bess had come to enjoy over the past seventy-two hours. They kissed, then kissed again. Bess had a deep urge to tell her how she felt. “Linda,” Bess said, “I …”

  Linda put her hand to Bess’s mouth softly before she could utter the words. “I know, Bess. I know. So do I. Let’s wait.”

  “Only a few hours on the train from Miles City to Bowman,” Linda said with a smile. “It’ll be wonderful to be together again. In Bowman.”

  Bess smiled as she hugged Linda, not wanting to let her go. For the first time in her life, she felt like she was finally herself—a rebirth—and she was terrified that of that feeling being torn from her grasp.

  After breakfast, they walked slowly to the Northern Pacific Railroad depot to await the westbound train. Linda was wearing her hair in a bun this morning, but Bess imagined her light-brown locks glistening in the bright sunshine. She was wearing a blue dress that was truly stunning, and after they had spent two days completing their projects in Dickinson in their work clothing, the contrast was amazing. She was so beautiful—an outward as well as inward beauty. Bess felt a little strange walking beside such a beautiful woman while wearing her light-brown trousers and baggy tan shirt.

  Linda and Bess talked about their plans for meeting in Bowman, and Bess promised to write as soon as she arrived in Haley so Linda would know how to reach her. Linda seemed quite sad to be leaving, and Bess wondered if she thought about staying and going with her to Haley. Those were selfish notions; she chastised herself and quickly dismissed them.

  The whistle of the oncoming passenger train pierced the air and sent a shock through Bess. They were outside the station behind a wall that separated the walkway from the street. No one was near. They embraced, and Bess held Linda as tightly as she could. Then she pulled back, stared into Linda’s eyes, and kissed her on the lips. A public display of affection might be seen by some as inappropriate, but Bess didn’t care. She relished the softness of Linda’s lips and the tingle up and down her spine.