Prairie Song

by Cheryl Anne Porter

  He made a gesture toward the kids. “Please do.”

  So, with her heart thumping erratically, and uncertain of her reception, Kate approached the wagon. Reaching in, very much aware of how she’d want some stranger to treat her own child, she lifted out the little girl. Despite Joey’s halfhearted attempt to maintain his hold on his sister, Kate took the child in her arms. The girl clung pathetically to Kate, wrapping her baby-chubby arms and legs around Kate’s neck and waist.

  Hushing Lydia’s whimpers and rocking her from side to side, Kate held out an arm to Willy. He quickly scooted out of the wagon and flung his arms around Kate’s hips, clinging to her every bit as fiercely as did his sister. Kate patted his narrow back with her hand and then smoothed her hand over his mop of black hair. Very nearly weighed down with the two children, she turned her gaze on Joey. He sat with his arms and legs crossed, his face a mask of mistrust. This one would be a battle.

  Kate knew of no other way but to speak from her heart. “I know all of this is hard for you, Joey—and for Willy and Lydia. But I’m not trying to take your place with them. And I’m not trying to take your mother’s place, either. I can’t do that, I know. I’m just hoping we can be friends. You see, your uncle and I … well, we came together because of our needs. He needs help with you, and I need someone to make the run for me. That’s why we’re getting married. And that’s the only reason.”

  The older of the dark-haired boys, who held himself so rigidly, looked from her to his uncle and back at her. He raised his chin stubbornly, but interest flickered in his dark eyes.

  Kate rushed on. “But we—your uncle and I—won’t be … living together like your parents did, like real married folks. He’ll get my land for me, and then move on—once you’re settled with your cousin.”

  Joey didn’t say anything, but bright tears flooded his eyes. Hoping she was getting through to him, Kate finished. “Now, I want you to know that right now nobody’s going to make you do anything or go anywhere you don’t want to. And nobody wants you dead, least of all your uncle. He’s doing everything he can to see that you have a good life. And he deserves better from you than what you’re giving him.”

  Joey’s mouth worked furiously as he fought the tears. He gave a vicious swipe of his sleeve to his eyes. Kate wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and tell him not to worry. But he didn’t move, didn’t respond to her or to her words. Kate nodded, smiled. “It’s the best I can do, Joey.” She had to content herself with the thought that she’d opened the door if he felt like walking through.

  Then, thinking maybe if she enlisted Joey’s help he might be more open to her, she turned to practical matters. “Now, I need you to help me get together fixings for some supper. We’re all tired and hungry right now, Joey. And we’re bound to say things we don’t mean. But I promise you this—everything will look better in the morning.”

  Joey still didn’t say or do anything for a moment or two. He just stared at her, his throat working convulsively. As the seconds ticked by, Kate felt Lydia rub her little button nose on her shoulder. Willy did the same with her skirt. Suddenly she became aware that Cole Youngblood had come to stand by her side. Without looking at her or saying a word, he put his arm around her shoulder. Kate swallowed hard around the lump of fear in her throat, telling herself his gesture was intended to show Joey that they were all standing together, rather than from some desire to be affectionate with her.

  Finally, when Cole Youngblood spoke, it was to his nephew. “So, what do you think, Joey? You want to try things the lady’s way? Or do you have a better plan?”

  Kate looked up at Cole. He was grinning at his nephew. Feeling the warm weight of Cole’s arm around her, and refusing to think how she felt about that, she looked back at Joey and added her smiling encouragement to him.

  At long last, the boy sniffed and rubbed his sleeve under his nose. Adopting a fierce expression, he said, “I don’t reckon I’ve got a better plan.”

  Relief brightened Kate’s smile. “Good,” she said cheerily. “Then I can count on you to help me? I’m going to need you, Joey.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll help you.” He got up solemnly and stepped around bed rolls and heavy traveling chests to get to the back of the wagon.

  Kate looked up at Cole. Not for anything was she going to remind him that he still had his arm around her. Keeping her voice down, she asked, “Does that child ever smile?”

  Cole released her and took Lydia from her, saying, “I’ll take her and Willy to wash up at the creek.” With the little girl perched nonchalantly on his arm, Cole then answered Kate, his voice low enough not to be overheard by Joey. “Joey smile? Not that I’ve seen of late.”

  Feeling sorry for the little boy, Kate shook her head as she gently loosened Willy’s arms from around her and handed him over to his uncle. “Then we’ll have to work on that.”

  Cole took Willy’s hand and turned to head toward the creek. Looking back over his shoulder, he winked at her. “Whatever you say … Kate.”

  * * *

  Someone was shaking her shoulder. Kate went from dead asleep to instantly awake the next morning. At first, her heart pounding, her hands fisted around her covers, she couldn’t remember where she was. But the sight of Cole Youngblood leaning over her in her bed in the big schooner refreshed her memory. Still, she had all she could do not to scream … and to remember that he wasn’t Mr. Talmidge. And he wasn’t here to hurt her. She hoped.

  “Wake up, Kate. I’ve got some news for you,” the gunslinger was saying. Removing his Stetson, he hunkered down beside her … and waited.

  As Kate struggled to a sitting position, she belatedly remembered she was cradling Lydia’s warm little body to her own. But barely disturbed, the girl muttered in her sleep and snuggled back into their nest of blankets while Kate slid to the end of their makeshift bed, as far away as she could, so as not to awaken the child with their talking. Then she spared a thought for the girl’s brothers, assuming they still slept on in the other wagon, where Cole had also slept.

  “What? What is it?” She rubbed at her eyes and shoved her heavy hair back over her shoulders. Not getting any answer, she looked up, marked the gunslinger’s expression, and then looked down at herself.

  Dear Lord. Not only was her hair hanging loosely down her back—a sight usually reserved for husbands—but she was also undressed, all but exposed from the waist up, wearing nothing but her cotton chemise. A sudden chill from the cool April-morning air washed over her bare skin, puckering her nipples under her thin garment. She quickly grabbed up a loose quilt and draped it around her, but too late to stop the hot flush that claimed her cheeks.

  And apparently also too late to stop the hot, slow look she was getting from Cole Youngblood, Kate sucked in a tortured breath and rushed to remind him of their arrangement. “I’ll thank you to remember that our union is no more than a business deal, Mr. Youngblood—”

  “You may as well call me Cole. Especially under these circumstances.”

  Kate stared at him, fearing he might decide to define what circumstances he meant. Their imminent marriage. Or his being in here now with her half-naked. She remembered that he had called her Kate last night, something she hadn’t invited him to do. But she was going to marry him, so how could she protest? That left her with nothing to say but, “All right … Cole.”

  A slow grin claimed his features. And the air seemed to still around them. Maddeningly, he didn’t say anything. And Kate couldn’t. Not with him looking at her that way. His expression spoke of desire. For her. And it shamed her. “Please don’t do that,” she quietly asked, her gaze steady, despite the gathering tears. “Please don’t look at me like that.”

  The man’s expression turned quizzical. “Like what?”

  Kate swallowed, felt the words stick in her throat. “Like … like you want me. I don’t like it.”

  His expression darkened, asked a hundred questions. But what he said was, “You don’t have to worry
about me, Kate. I know our arrangement. I won’t stray across any lines.”

  She nodded, her hand fluttering up to her temple to brush away her sleep-tangled hair. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, even as he suddenly reached out and inexplicably crossed a line by capturing her hand, raising it to his mouth, and kissing her palm … warmly, tenderly. Before Kate could do much but try to tug it back, his gaze met hers … and locked, holding her there, wordless in the moment. “I just meant to reassure you, nothing more. Who hurt you, Kate? Someone did, I know it. I see it on your face. Who was it?”

  She said nothing. For many reasons. Pride, for one. Shame, for another. And because, finally, there was nothing she could say. Or wanted to say to him. She could only stare at him … and know he was who he was. And she was who she was. And wonder if one day their paths would cross … and he’d have a gun in his hand. One aimed at her heart. Because this man worked for Mr. Talmidge, who wanted her dead.

  Just as suddenly as he’d taken it, Cole Youngblood relinquished her hand, which Kate instantly curled into her lap. He pulled himself to his feet and stood looking down at her. Sheer awareness raked his features, just as his hand did his jet-black hair. Sitting there, wrapped in a quilt and feeling the heat of his kiss searing her palm, Kate looked down, slowly shaking her head as she picked at a loose thread in the quilt’s fan pattern.

  “Kate?”

  She looked up, but not directly at him. She couldn’t quite manage to keep her gaze in one place.

  “Kate, look at me.”

  She did. And took a deep, unsteady breath. His presence overpowered the cozy den of the wagon’s covered interior. Big, dark, muscled, intent. Armed. He exuded raw masculinity that shrank the narrow space so that it seemed to Kate that only he and she existed in all the world. She found it difficult to breathe.

  “You don’t have to tell me a thing,” he said, breaking the silence. “But I want you to know that you’re safe with me. I won’t hurt you. Or expect anything from you. And once we’re married, my name will protect you.” A shadow of an emotion flickered across his expression, and he added, “Even when I’m not around.”

  Kate nodded, thinking that much was true. He wouldn’t be around. But she shied away from how she’d feel when that day came. Because she just didn’t know, as surprising as that realization was to her. She should be relieved and glad, she knew that much. And she would be, she told herself. But looking up at him now, she felt the weight of his presence, of his protection, like a palpable thing in the space between them. Well, to imagine being without that … the days that lay ahead of her would be so empty.

  But then Kate’s mind latched on to what else he’d said. About his name protecting her. It was true. Once she married him, her name would be his. And so would her baby’s. She tested it in her mind now as the gunslinger bent over to check on Lydia, to better cover the little girl. Watching his every move, noting his tenderness with his tiny niece, Kate mimed his name. Youngblood. A feared and respected name. She and her child would be protected.

  She then thought of Mr. Talmidge. Obviously he hadn’t sent Cole Youngblood to kill her, or she’d already be dead. But Kate wondered, when Mr. Talmidge did send someone—or came after her himself—would Cole Youngblood stand by her … given all the lies she’d told him?

  The gunslinger straightened up, turned her way. “You’re staring at me. What are you thinking so hard about, Kate?”

  Kate shook her head and managed a wavery smile for this man who was going to be her husband, even if in name only. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.” Then she suddenly realized he was also her salvation … as much as was the land he would get for her. And so she heard herself saying, “I guess I ought to … well, thank you for everything you’re doing for me. I hope someday to be able to pay you back.”

  His expression never changed. But Kate thought she detected a flicker in his eyes, maybe of uncertainty. But then he said, “Well, first off, you’re welcome. Your end of the bargain, though, is payback enough. And it’s why I’m standing here now.”

  Kate’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I know you don’t. But it’s what I came to tell you.” He hesitated, and then said, “We can’t get married right away like you wanted.”

  Kate sat Stock-still and stared up at him. Having to keep her voice low, so as not to awaken Lydia, only made her words sound that much more plaintive, even to her own ears. “I don’t understand. Why can’t we? You just said—”

  “I know what I said, about my name protecting you. And I meant that. But”—he settled his Stetson on his head—“some things have changed. With the land run. Not with me. While you and the kids slept, I’ve been at the land office, registering to make the run for you.”

  Kate bit her bottom lip and tried to remain calm, to allow him to explain. “I see. Thank you. Was it difficult to do?”

  He blew out a breath, as if recalling the ordeal. “Not if you don’t mind standing for hours in a long line. But I finally got your numbered stake, so I can register your claim afterward. But while I was there, word came from the army that people can start moving down tomorrow through the Cherokee Outlet and go as far as the actual border to the Unassigned Lands.”

  Kate frowned her bewilderment. “Tomorrow?”

  Cole nodded. “Yes. That’s the new word from the Interior Department. But only those of us who were in line this morning know that right now. But word will spread fast enough, I expect. And folks will start heading down there directly.”

  Excitement quickened in Kate’s belly. “Is that what we’re going to do? Move down there ahead of them?”

  His disbelieving chuckle killed Kate’s giddiness. “No. Not we. Me. I’m going to go on down to the border tomorrow. My horse is a fast one, has a lot of stamina. So I should be able to get in a front-line position to grab you any claim you want.”

  His face fairly beamed with anticipation. For the coming horse race? Or for riding off, never to come back? Kate didn’t like any of this. Because she simply didn’t trust him. “So, is this why you say we can’t get married first? There’s no time, as you see it?”

  His expression hardened. “It’s not just how I see it, Kate. It’s how it is. I didn’t move the time up. The Interior Department did. Look, you want a good claim or not? It’s up to you. I can go on ahead. Or I can wait here, and we hunt down the Justice of the Peace, get married, and then I leave and arrive late at the border. And be at the back of the crowd when the gun sounds—with you and a wagon of younguns to slow me down even more.”

  Kate knew what he wanted her to say. “And in that case, I might not get anything. Isn’t that what you want me to realize?”

  He nudged his Stetson up. “I’m saying it’s a possibility.”

  She knew he was right. The best land—maybe even all of the land—would go to the swiftest. But she had other concerns. “All right. I believe you. But the way you want to do it, the land can’t be in my name. Because we won’t be married. And that was our deal. Why can’t we just go find the justice today, right now, and get married?”

  “I’d like nothing better myself, Kate. But who do you think is at the head of that long line of settlers waiting on numbered stakes and certifying every document? The JP. He’s going to be busy every minute. That line goes on for miles. And it’ll only be worse once the word spreads about moving out early.”

  Acute disappointment, tinged with fear of her salvation slipping through her fingers, had Kate scarcely able to take in what Cole was saying. He wanted to leave, to go on without them to the run. Or maybe just go. And never come back. All she could think was … he’s leaving us. Suddenly she knew how the children felt. Alone. Scared. What if he didn’t come back? What would she do with four mules, three kids, two wagons, a skinny dog, and no money?

  But she couldn’t find the courage to say any of those things. So she fell back on skepticism. “And just how do I know that you’re telling me
the truth?”

  Cole Youngblood straightened to his full height. His narrow-eyed gaze raked over her. “Are you calling me a liar, Kate?”

  Seeing his black-eyed stare under his equally dark Stetson, Kate swallowed hard. And shook her head no.

  “Good. Then cover yourself and get outside this wagon, so we can talk further without waking up Lydia.”

  As soon as he stepped out over the wagon’s gate and disappeared from view, Kate let out her breath and got dressed in a quiet frenzy, quickly pulling on her moss-green skirt and high-necked white habit shirt from yesterday’s traveling costume. Next, she tugged on her boots, laced them, and raked her hands through her sleep-tangled hair.

  Within moments, she climbed out of the wagon bed, and after going off privately to relieve her bladder, she rounded the schooner and stopped, seeing Cole squatted by the campfire and pouring hot coffee into a mug. Next to him, the big skinny yellow dog lay on its side, deigning to raise only its head at her arrival. No doubt his full belly from last night’s supper scraps had rendered him lazy.

  At the dog’s acknowledgment of her presence, Cole turned his head, spotted her, and then shook his head, as if he were disgusted with her. “You can come over here, Kate. I don’t bite. At least, not until after I’ve had coffee.”

  Feeling a bit silly for having hesitated, Kate crossed her arms. “Maybe not. But you do shoot people. You said so yourself.”

  He considered her a moment longer but apparently chose to ignore her comment in favor of taking a swallow of the steaming brew. He made a face, as if it were too hot or too strong. “You want some coffee?”

  She started forward, nodding that she did. Invigorated by the bracing air, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms and glanced up, surprised to see the sun so high in the cloudless sky. “You let us sleep.”

  Cole shrugged away his good deed. “You were tired.”