A moment later, she dropped into her chair, and the boys bowed their heads. “Lord we thank You for the bounty that we are about to receive.” After they all chorused a hearty “Amen,” she watched them dig into the meal. It stunned her how fast they could devour the food she prepared. Most of them were young orphans and had never had anyone to cook for them. Their gratitude convinced her that she was right where God wanted her to be.
Billy stomped through the front door. Daisy jumped when he threw it shut with a bang.
“Are you through with your prayers and all that hymn singing?”
Daisy squirmed in her seat but kept the tartness from her reply. “Yes, Billy. We’re glad to see you. Supper is ready. Your place is set at the end of the table.” Daisy hoped her kindness would someday tenderize the toughness she detected around his heart. She tried to smile at him, but the scowl he aimed at her sent shivers down her spine. Ducking her head, she scrutinized the food on her plate and dug her fork into her potatoes.
“Best be careful on these night runs,” Billy said. “I hear a band of Indians chased a rider from one station all the way to the next. They didn’t do him any harm, but you never know.”
Billy’s words of warning caused Daisy’s stomach to roil. Several moments of awkward silence followed. The riders exchanged wide-eyed glances and shifted in their seats.
“You boys don’t mind if I sing while I cook, and pray over the meals, do you?” she finally asked. When the men shook their heads, she blew out a sigh of relief. “And I’m gonna double my prayers for you all while you’re out on runs.”
“My ma used to sing and tell me Bible stories, so I don’t mind you praying one bit, Miss Hollister,” Johnny, the youngest one, said.
Billy huffed and clanged his coffee cup on the table. Daisy felt tiny cracks ripple through her heart. She couldn’t bury her feelings about God, but she couldn’t continue to upset Billy with her expressions of faith, either. If she displeased Billy, he might fire her. Then where would she be?
Pounding hooves snagged Daisy’s attention before she had time to reply to Johnny’s comment. The lad jumped from his seat and bolted out the door. Billy followed suit, muttering something about making sure the pony was ready to run.
Daisy bowed her head and prayed for Johnny’s protection. It warmed her clear through when the others joined in. She wanted to make a difference in the lives of those around her, especially Billy. It bothered her that he didn’t put much stock in things of a spiritual nature.
She wouldn’t cease to pray for the riders’ safety no matter how much it might upset her boss. This was a dangerous profession, and it would break her heart if anything happened to one of these kids.
The moon shining overhead would provide Johnny with plenty of light to ride by. Billy tried to soothe himself with the thought. Still, he worried. He hadn’t mentioned at dinner that the Indians who chased the last rider had shot arrows at him. Thankfully, he’d reached the next way station before any real harm could be done. For a brief second he considered praying and then stopped himself short.
Where had God been when his parents died? What was God thinking when He let his sister die, and leave behind a small helpless child? Images of little Luke in the orphanage flooded his mind. How was the youngster faring? Had he received the last package Billy had sent him?
Even though he hadn’t finished dinner, he shuddered at the thought of eating. His stomach twisted into a mess of knots. First thing tomorrow he’d ride into town and send another letter to the orphanage, asking for news about his nephew. As soon as he completed that task, he’d head over to the hotel to see Jake. Several days had passed, and the man had to know something by now regarding the investigation of Butch.
“Excuse me, sir, is supper ready?” the young boy who had just completed his run asked, drawing Billy from his thoughts.
“Yep, head on in and get something to eat.”
“Much obliged,” the weary-looking rider replied as he traipsed into the main house.
Billy led the pony to the barn. The animal’s coat glistened with a layer of sweat, and the poor creature panted as if he hadn’t drank water for ages.
The moment Billy stepped into the warm stables, his muscles relaxed and his heart rate slowed to a gentle rhythm. Growing up in an orphanage, his only friends were the stray dogs that came along. He had developed a love for animals. They didn’t seem to possess the betraying qualities some humans possessed. Like Randall Butchovick.
The exhausted pony whinnied, drawing Billy to the present. He fed and watered the creature. He also gave him a good brushing and laid down some fresh hay for him to rest in. After checking on the other horses, he went for a walk.
The night air held a slight chill in spite of it being midsummer. Crickets chirped, and bullfrogs replied with a series of croaks and groans. Billy delighted in nature’s symphony as he strolled along the fence line. It provided a welcome relief from Daisy Hollister’s unceasing singing and praying.
Why did she have to be so pretty? And so sweet-natured? For the most part, she was fine to get along with, but then she’d open her mouth and say something about that faith of hers. If she were a man, Billy would just tell him to move along and find work elsewhere. At least she limited her preaching to the riders and the hired hands. If she dared make a crack to him about this God she loved, well, he didn’t want to think about what he’d do.
Perhaps he could let her take a few runs after all. If Indians managed to capture her, she’d probably drive them crazy with all her Jesus talk, and they’d be only too happy to dump her off at the nearest way station. If she didn’t get captured by Indians, she should have no problem making it to the next way station. Let the folks there deal with her.
Either way, at least she’d be out of his hair.
Chapter Five
The wind whipped Daisy’s hair as she rode east to the Scott’s Bluff way station in Nebraska Territory, her next stop on the Pony Express route. She hadn’t spotted any sign of Indians, but her heart pounded in her chest nonetheless. Thankfully, no rustlers or bandits made their presence known. Daisy gripped the revolver in her loose-fitting holster. If she did see some varmint on the road, animal or human, she wouldn’t hesitate to defend herself.
“Rider coming!” Daisy hollered as the station house came into view.
In the distance she watched as the hired hands raced toward the barn. Daisy rode to the entrance and slid down from her mount just as a young man led a fresh horse out. In a swift, fluid motion, Daisy swept the mochilla from the tired horse and placed it on the saddle of her fresh mount.
“A rider just came from the east,” the hired hand said. “They’re expecting some government documents in this pouch, and it needs to get to them as soon as possible. Ride hard!”
“Sure thing.” Daisy jumped onto the horse, one named Buttercup, and kicked the animal’s flanks. They bolted from the yard.
Riding for Russell, Majors, and Waddell was exciting. She was making money while Billy investigated the death of her parents back at Cottonwood Springs. She was grateful to him for that. He had shown such kindness, with the exception of growling at her for being too preachy. A sense of well-being flooded through her. If they could prove what Butch did, and put him away for life, she wouldn’t have to run anymore.
She could stick around and help Green Grass’s family through the winter. She could also keep in touch with her new friends working for the Pony Express.
Riding at a full gallop, Daisy passed a stagecoach. The occupants leaned out the windows and waved. She waved back as she rode by.
The rock and sagebrush landscape passed by her with a blur. Every so often she spotted the soft pink blossoms of the bitterroot plants. Green Grass had dug some up one afternoon and made a pleasant meal out of them. Daisy thought they had tasted well enough. Fresh tears brimmed in her eyes. She missed her friend.
The next station, Chimney Rock, should come into view in a short time. She had to remember to tell the n
ext rider about the government documents they carried. She wondered if she’d be taking a mochilla back the other direction right away, or if she’d have a chance to rest for a spell before heading back to Cottonwood Springs.
Without warning, her horse whinnied and bucked hard. Daisy tried to hang on but lost her grip on the reins. She slammed onto the unforgiving ground with a painful thud. Her ears caught the horrifying sound of rattling nearby. When she reached for the pistol in her holster, it wasn’t there.
“Where is it?” Daisy asked aloud.
It must have slipped free of her holster when she fell. She twisted to her left and then her right, searching the ground for her weapon. She spotted it a few yards from where she sat. Her heart sank when she realized it was way out of her reach. She couldn’t take a chance and lunge for it without angering the slithery creature into a strike. Panic bubbled in her heart, and her breath caught in her throat. She wasn’t afraid of much in this world, but snakes were the creatures of her nightmares.
After steadying her breathing, she forced herself to focus on how to get out of the mess she was in. Where was her horse?
“Buttercup?” She called out, quietly. She didn’t care to further spook the animal. If he ran off with the mail pouch she’d be in trouble. A whinny sounded from behind some bushes several yards from where she lay sprawled on the ground.
The air gusted from her lungs. She needed Buttercup to get the mochilla to Chimney Rock, but she couldn’t risk either her or the horse getting snakebit. Sitting still and waiting for the rattler to slink away seemed like the best option, but that could take hours. Time Daisy didn’t have to spare.
Off in the distance Daisy spotted a cloud of dust rolling toward her. The stagecoach she had passed earlier now approached. The stage would be rolling past soon, which left Daisy with mere seconds to calculate her options. With any luck the noise and movement would scare the snake away and she could continue on her ride. With bad luck, it would frighten the wretched thing bad enough to sink it’s fangs into her.
Billy snuck a quick glance around the army camp before ducking into Jake Hunter’s cabin.
“So, what have you been able to find out?” Billy asked the whiskered young soldier.
“Shhh, I don’t want Butch to know we’re on to him. He’s likely roaming around here, and I don’t want him to overhear us.”
“Fine.” Billy lowered his voice. “What do you know?”
“I spoke with Daniel Tully’s family about his death. Mr. Tully told me his son confided in him about something terrible. Apparently, the young soldier was forced to watch Butch rape an Indian girl at some railroad camp. Daniel had even spoken with the railroad worker who somehow knew about it. The two men collaborated and wrote out statements testifying to what they knew. Then they filed the documents with Butch’s superior officer.”
“So why didn’t the army do something about it?”
“When I went to check on the paperwork, I couldn’t find it.”
“What do you mean you couldn’t find it?” Billy huffed and clenched his hands. Logic told him Green Grass was the girl Butch had raped, but without those statements he couldn’t know for sure. Butch had more than likely killed her, and the soldier, to shut them up. He didn’t want to think a cover-up had taken place. Butch had discovered the coconspirators had filed complaints against him. Given his rank and slick mannerisms it wouldn’t have taken much to trace the paperwork and make it disappear.
“I think Butch intercepted Daniel’s statement and destroyed it to hide his criminal actions,” Jake growled.
Billy nodded his head in agreement. “I was thinking the same thing.”
A tall man threw open the cabin door and loomed in the entryway. “Did I hear somebody say my name?” He glared at Billy with dark menacing eyes and spat tobacco juice on the cabin steps.
Several medals on the soldier’s uniform gleamed, even in the dim light of the cabin. Billy would bet money the man hadn’t come by them in the most honorable fashion.
“I was just showing this civilian around and telling him about our camp here,” Jake stammered.
A cold sweat trickled down Billy’s forehead. Butch was an imposing man, and rude. No wonder Daisy was afraid of him.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to the way station.” Billy eyed Jake and pushed past Butch to exit the cabin. The dots began to connect in his mind. Butch raped Green Grass and to save his hide, he killed everyone who knew about it. Green Grass, Daniel, and the railroad worker. That worker was more than likely Daisy’s father.
Butch was a cold-blooded killer. One way or another, Billy would haul his sorry hide before the proper authorities. Perhaps he could talk Daisy into testifying against him. Granted, the man terrified her, but she wanted justice for her parents.
His thoughts swirled as he strode past two soldiers using their bayonet spikes to roast meat over a campfire, and another who sat polishing his trumpet. Billy unhitched his horse and rode back to the way station. As he led the animal into the barn he heard a distinct voice behind him.
“I’ve heard some disturbing rumors, Mr. Cook. Have you let a woman ride for the Pony Express?”
Billy turned and stood eye to eye with Mr. Andrews, the regional superintendent.
Chapter Six
The noise of the approaching stagecoach grew louder. The snake swung its body toward the clatter long enough for Daisy to reach for her six-shooter and fire two rounds. The second one took the rattler’s head clean off.
After shoving the weapon back into her holster, she sprinted toward her horse. Buttercup hadn’t run off in the melee, and for that she uttered a prayer of thanks. Once the animal’s reins were firmly in her hand, she marched over to where the snake lay dead.
“The only good snake is a dead snake,” she muttered to herself. She grabbed its corpse by the tail and wrapped it around the saddle horn. The creature would make for some fine eating come suppertime.
Daisy shoved her foot into the stirrup and swung up onto the saddle. Then she dug in her heels, and Buttercup jumped into a gallop. She just might make the next way station before dark. That is, if she didn’t run into any Indians or robbers. The last thing she needed was more trouble.
Her thoughts churned as fast as her horse’s hooves as she flashed by towering ponderosa’s and sagebrush. Billy’s image floated to the surface. His blond hair and blue eyes cut a dashing figure. Daisy respected and admired him for the way he’d taken charge and investigated the death of her parents. But respect and admiration could take her only so far. Faith didn’t settle well with the man. Handsome or not, she could never allow herself to fall in love with someone who didn’t share her beliefs in Christ. So why did her heart rate sputter like a tired steam engine every time she spoke with him?
Daisy shifted her weight and peered at the horizon. The sun had dipped below a stand of trees, casting shadows across the rugged landscape. Her thoughts turned toward the scriptures she had studied the other day. She prayed for Billy, that God would keep him safe as he dug into Butch’s past. She hoped Billy would realize how much God cared for him. A heavy sigh rolled out of her mouth, but it didn’t ease the weightiness in her heart.
Even if Billy developed an interest in church, attended regularly, and decided to settle down, she imagined he’d want to find some pretty girl in hoops and fancy laces. It was highly unlikely he’d consider a trouser-wearing, rattlesnake-shooting, tomboy like her. Oh well. At least God loved her the way she was.
“Rider coming!” Daisy hollered as the barn and other buildings of the Chimney Rock station grew larger on the horizon. When she reached the barn, she pulled hard on the reins and Buttercup lurched to a stop. She jumped off the horse and grabbed the dead snake from her saddle.
The next rider yanked the mochilla off Buttercup and placed it on his fresh horse.
“There’re important government documents in the pouch, so ride hard,” Daisy said.
The rider nodded his head in acknowledgement.
Daisy watched as he mounted the animal and galloped away, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. She yawned and stretched her aching muscles.
“I’m starving. You got anything to eat?” she asked the station manager.
“The cook is taking care of that now. I’ll tell her to set an extra place for you.”
“I’ve got a snake here.” Daisy held up the nasty creature for the man to see. “If you don’t mind cleaning it, I’m willing to share.”
“That would be fine. We have company, and any extra would be greatly appreciated.”
Daisy handed her contribution to the man and went to wash up. So company was visiting the station. She wondered who it might be, and if they had an aversion to rattlesnake. Some folks from the East didn’t easily take to the wild ways of things out West.
The water pump squeaked as she worked the rusty handle until cool water flowed. She wet her handkerchief and wiped her sweaty face. She glanced around with as much nonchalance as possible to see if anyone was looking at her.
Coast was clear. She pulled her hat from her head, yanked the pins from her hair, and let it tumble down her back. It felt good to free her long mop from what had constrained it.
“Evening, ma’am.”
Daisy gasped. Her hat and handkerchief slipped from her fingers. She turned to stare at two soldiers in uniform.
“I need a word with you, Mr. Cook.”
Billy gazed into his supervisor’s hard, prying eyes. Mr. Andrews, a tall man with graying muttonchops, raised an eyebrow. Billy squirmed. He might not be a man filled with enough religious zeal to rival Miss Daisy-Hymn-Singing-Hollister, but he wasn’t about to lie to the man, either.
“How can I help you?” Billy asked. Hoping to avoid looking into his boss’s eyes, he looked up at the sky to see if any birds were overhead. Then he studied the ground to see if any snakes slithered nearby, finally he checked the barn to see if any hired hands needed help with their chores.
The Courageous Brides Collection Page 22
