Prairie Song

by Cheryl Anne Porter

  Kate stood there, watched him walking away, noted his confident stride. Unspoken words remained on her tongue. Because there was nothing she could say. She had her secrets. And apparently he had his. All his talk about building cabins and hunting down long-lost cousins. He was stalling. He never meant to go find that woman. He meant to leave those kids here with her forever. She just knew it. Why, he was no better than—Kate’s expression puckered with her realization. He’s no better than me. She put a hand to her trembling mouth. I’m a terrible, lying person. No one should ever leave their children with me.

  And then she remembered. She would soon, about the time of the new year, have a child of her own. After this, she swore to herself, after tonight, no more lies. Only the truth. Her child deserved that much, an honest mother. But for now, for tonight, she’d just keep her mouth shut, wouldn’t say a thing, truth or lie. Not that she’d intended to tell Cole about her own plan, which was to use the money she took from him to pay someone to build her a cabin. Hadn’t he told her there were skilled workmen aplenty here hoping to get rich by building a city? Well, she’d just help them along. And then, after that, to help herself along, she intended to work in town.

  Doing what, she didn’t know yet. Or for how long, given polite society’s views on women in her condition not being seen in public once they began showing. But she’d find something. She’d make do. How soon she had to worry about those things all depended on how much money Cole had. Or, rather, how much of it she took. Of course, her whole plan, as well as her very life, depended on him not finding her and killing her once he realized that she was gone.

  But, she told herself, she just couldn’t worry about that right now, about how she might have to consider a different plot of land so he couldn’t so readily find her. And about how she’d get past him at the land office, where he could simply wait for her to show up to register her claim. The law forced her to do that, and he would know that. But still, as always, he’d have three kids with him. How long could he wait around trying to find her?

  Forever, if he was stubborn enough. And Kate figured he was. Fisting her hands around her skirt’s folds, she took a deep breath that hurt her worry-constricted lungs and told herself, One day—and one lie—at a time, Kate.

  Those thoughts finally propelled her into motion and quickly brought her to the schooner with Cole. He’d already reached up and was untying her earlier handiwork. Done with that, he turned to her, wordlessly put his hands to her waist, and handed her inside, helping her over the gate. His hands on her, so strong and confident, made her suddenly feel small and unsure of herself and her abilities. Anymore it seemed like the only thing she was good at was lying. And tonight she’d add stealing and cheating to her skills.

  Instantly, Kate berated herself. She had to get over this bad feeling in her gut. Just had to. Had to accept that if she was doing all the wrong things, it was for the one right reason. Her baby.

  So, quickly—once Cole walked away, over to the boys sleeping in the buckboard—Kate set about making them a bed. All she had to do was carefully move Lydia over and begin straightening the bedding, allowing room for the boys to sleep with their sister. After all, she herself wouldn’t need a bed here tonight. She was leaving.

  “Kate?”

  She whipped around. Of course, it was Cole. He held his saddlebags. He lifted them over the tailgate and held them out to her, his expression open and honest, saying, “Here. Take these. No sense getting them soaked, too. Too much inside that’s important.”

  How well she knew that. But still Kate hesitated, realizing the quiet statement of trust in her he was making. A trust she was going to betray this very night. Don’t think about that, Kate. Think about these children. Think about your own baby. Thus fortified, she stepped away from the bedding at the head of the wagon and sidestepped a trunk, making her way toward where Cole stood outside on the ground. When she reached for the leather bags he held out to her, he warned, “Careful. They’re heavy. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

  Kate froze, her grip on the bags tightening. He knows. Otherwise, why would he say that? But how could he be aware of her delicate condition? Not that she felt the least bit delicate yet. No, Kate decided, it must be her guilty conscience weighing on her and making something out of his innocent remark. She tugged the bags in—he wasn’t overspeaking himself, either, for they were heavy—and set them just inside the tailgate.

  “You ready for the boys?” Cole asked, looking up at her, his hands gripping the raised tailgate, his dark eyes warm, the skin at their edges crinkling with his smile.

  Kate’s breath caught. The man always took her by surprise. He stirred things inside her, things she’d thought sure had been forever stolen from her. She had to get away from him. She had to. For her own sake. Finally, realizing he was watching her watch him, she forced herself to speak. “Yes. I’ve made them a place. But you will be close by tonight, won’t you?” She worried about the children being in here alone once she left.

  He gave her a considering look, one that said he couldn’t quite interpret her wanting him so close. “I’ll be right outside here with Kitty. Probably sleep under the buckboard with him. But I’m betting it doesn’t rain. I don’t feel it. Still, there’s no sense in not getting the kids out of the weather. Just in case.”

  “You’re right,” Kate said quickly, glad for the children’s sake that he’d be close. And glad for herself … to know where he’d be. But did he have to be so considerate? It made her feel as if she were kicking him in the gut for it, with everything she was getting ready to do tonight. Wasn’t he supposed to be the heartless killer? And her the decent person? It was getting, hard, Kate admitted, to tell who was good from who was bad.

  “Kate?”

  She jumped, realizing that again she was staring. And again, he was watching her. Disconcerted, as much by her own behavior as by his nearness, and with her cheeks warming, she blurted, “You want help with the boys?”

  He grinned up at her and tipped his Stetson back. “You’re awful pretty, Kate Chand—I mean, Youngblood—you know that?”

  Youngblood. Kate stiffened, could only stare down at him. She kept forgetting she was now a Youngblood.

  Cole raised a hand. “Don’t worry. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s … well, the moonlight in your face. You’re … pretty, is all. I just thought you should know, this being your wedding night.” With that, he winked at her … and turned away, making his way back to the buckboard.

  Kate never moved. She watched his retreating figure, noting again his broad shoulders, the slim hips and long legs. Such easy confidence in his walk. She wanted to cry. Why now? Why was he opening up to her like this? Why was he so all-fired nice all of a sudden? And worrying about her? Did having a wife do that to a man? To some, she supposed. Her father had been a nice man, that was true. And Mrs. Jacobs, from the train ride out here, seemed to think highly of her husband. But Mr. Talmidge … he was another kettle of fish. Having a wife, especially one like Norah Heston Talmidge, certainly hadn’t refined him any.

  And Cole Youngblood … what about his wife? That’s you, Kate. What effect will you have on him? Kate put a hand over her mouth, stifling a cry. She didn’t know whether to hang her head in shame. Or raise her eyes to the heavens and say a prayer for her soul, a prayer she’d need once Cole found her gone tomorrow morning.

  Just then he approached her again, with a sleepy-eyed, restive little boy held in each arm. Their dark heads lolled against his shoulders. With a thought to her own developing child, worrying about what this heavy lifting might do to it, Kate nevertheless leaned over the tailgate, reached out her arms, and readied herself to take the boys, one at a time. What other choice did she have? She either helped … or told Cole Youngblood why she couldn’t. Not for the first time did she wish that she’d told him at the outset that she was a widow. That would have covered everything. But she hadn’t thought of it then and couldn’t simply come out with it now. He’d hav
e too many questions. And he already had enough of those.

  Outside the wagon, Cole stopped and looked up at her. “Just help me hand them over. They’re heavy and about half-awake, anyway. No sense in you lifting them. Just walk them to the bed. They’ll go right back to sleep.”

  Kate did as ordered, and again wondered if Cole knew, or at least suspected, her condition. Maybe he’d believed Joey’s conclusion. Well, it was certainly true enough. But still, if Cole knew or suspected, she would have thought he’d have said something more than he had just now or even earlier. Mulling all this over, Kate walked first Joey and then Willy to the bed. Just as Cole had said, the boys went right back into a deep sleep, the instant their heads hit the pillows.

  If only I could do the same thing, Kate mused as she tucked the boys in. She was bone-weary. But the coming night would be a long one for her. And she had no one to blame but herself. And the Talmidges. And Cole Youngblood. And these three kids. And her own baby. As well as some unknown—Kate pivoted to see Cole still standing there watching her, a curious expression on his face. She managed a smile for him and a softly spoken, “Good night.”

  He tipped his Stetson to her and said, “Same to you. And, um, congratulations, Kate … on your wedding night.” Then, his expression neutral, he stepped back far enough to tug the tailgate into a closed position. Then, with a final warm and considering look in her direction, he pulled the canvas back into place, blocking himself from Kate’s view. But from the interior of the wagon, Kate watched Cole. Thanks to a nearby lantern, she could see him outlined against the canvas as he tied the flap down. She stood perfectly still, even when he turned and walked away, his silhouetted shadow just suddenly gone when he stepped out of the pool of light. But she could still hear the fading crunch of his departing footsteps.

  Finally, a tear slid down her cheek. A tear for all she had no choice but to do. A tear for all she’d never be able to do. Or to have.

  * * *

  Hours later, deep in the night, Kate sat up from where she’d been wakefully resting, still fully dressed, at the end of the bedding. She’d feared she’d fall asleep and not awaken until first light. But she should have known better. She hadn’t slept a wink. Too scared. Too jumpy. Instead, she’d lain here, her eyes open and staring at the saddlebags only a few feet away, as she tried to calculate time’s passing.

  But now, here it was … time to act. Aided by that outside lantern light that dimly lit the wagon’s interior, she looked to Joey, Willy, and Lydia. A tender smile found its way to her mouth. The sweet, innocent children slept on. So did the would-be settlers scattered throughout Walnut Creek. Under the vast stand of trees that sheltered them, the families and their noisy activities had settled down to the occasional snore, clunk, baby’s cry, or horse’s whinny.

  The night air had cooled, the wind blew softly. There was no evidence yet of the rain Cole had mentioned. It was therefore the perfect moment for Kate to make her escape. To begin her life on her own. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Well, of course it was. And yet she made no move to get up and get what she needed out of the saddlebags. Namely, the money. Not all of it, she reminded herself. She wasn’t greedy. She’d take only what she figured she might need. That, and the map to the claim … if she dared still claim that particular plot of land. Well, she’d take the map and worry about that later. She also needed a blanket or two for bedding. But everything else she needed was outside this narrow wagon.

  So was Cole Youngblood. The man stood between her and all else necessary for her getaway. Like a horse. Not that she knew how to saddle one, much less ride it. But still, she needed that roan. Her very life depended on getting some land for herself and her baby. And darn that Cole Youngblood, again. He was sleeping too close for her even to get food from the storage box secured to the wagon’s side. Why, even lifting a canteen from its peg would most likely wake up Kitty and have him barking.

  Kate fumed now, thinking of her foiled plan to get everything together earlier. How could she have done so with the kids right here and Cole right outside? Well, she’d just have to do it. Or go without. Because all she was doing now was sitting here and stalling.

  For a moment longer, though, Kate did sit there, trying to think what was the harm in staying put, in letting Cole make the run and getting her land and building that cabin. All of a sudden it seemed silly to her to be running away with no means and no knowledge of how to care for herself. Wasn’t she just asking for a wagonload of trouble, being on her own? Wasn’t it more sensible to sit tight, get the land claimed and the cabin built, and then tell him he had to take the kids, that she couldn’t keep them? Couldn’t she simply wait and tell him then? After all, what could he do?

  Kill her in a fit of temper, for one thing. But not really. She’d seen enough of him to figure that he wouldn’t lose control like that. But what could he really do? Take back the land? No. It’d be in her name, too. Tear down the cabin he’d just built? She didn’t think so. In fact, she grinned to imagine a grown man of Cole’s reputation doing something as childish as tearing down a perfectly good cabin. No, all he could do was not like it. And then either make other arrangements for the kids, or take them with him.

  Kate began to warm up to the idea of staying here, of not running away, and of keeping him with her as long as she could. Because truly, for as long as he was around, the children were safe. Her baby was safe. And so was she … at least until he found out who she was. But maybe even after that. Because, as she was beginning to realize, Cole Youngblood was many things. But someone to stand by and allow her or his sister’s children to be harmed, in the face of a hired killer showing up? No, he wasn’t that sort.

  But what if Mr. Talmidge himself came here? Kate remained half convinced the awful man would do so. If he did, would Cole Youngblood protect her? Or do the bidding of his employer? That answer she didn’t have. But somehow, given what she’d learned of Cole in the past few days, having seen the care and respect with which he’d treated her, she liked to think that maybe he would take her side. If for no other reason than she was now married to him. And carrying a bastard child, a pregnancy she hadn’t wanted. But a baby she now did.

  Kate’s spirits picked up, had her sitting up straighter, even getting excited. She didn’t need to run away and hide out, after all. Why, the best thing for her to do was to lie back down and sleep … and allow events to run their course. It made sense. Because every time she thought of something else she needed to have or needed to know how to do in order to take care of herself, she was forced to realize she didn’t have it or couldn’t do it. And would only get her fool self killed trying. To make matters worse, even her own body was fighting her now, leaving her sick and tired and hungry. That would only get worse as the baby grew. So would her urgency to relieve herself. As she felt now.

  And thus, confronted with nature, decision time arrived. Did she go outside only to do her business and then come back and sleep? Or did she go outside now, never to come back?

  Kate slumped. She’d already left behind so much. Had already been forced from the only world she’d ever known. Had already done some unforgivable things, things that had her very soul in jeopardy … like marry a man she didn’t love, in order to earn a chance for her baby to be safe. So this was no time to fall short of the mark. She couldn’t afford now to be wrong. But all she knew was she was tired. Tired of worrying about it. Tired of hiding her intentions. Tired of trying to outthink the world, of trying to be smarter than she was. She just wanted to rest.

  Her gaze lit again on the saddlebags. She also wanted to see that numbered stake Cole had secured for her. Did it exist? If it did, wouldn’t that answer a lot of her questions about his intentions? Meaning, if the stake was in there, like he’d said it was, then wouldn’t that show her he was telling the truth about everything else? It made sense to her.

  Her gaze ran over every smooth and worn facet of the leather bags. They weren’t locked in any way she could see. Only buckled. An
d they were now partly hers, since she was married to Cole Youngblood. So what could it hurt to look? Why, until this minute she’d fully intended to open them anyway. So what was staying her hand now?

  Nothing. Put that way, Kate scooted forward and grabbed them up, quickly kneeling down at the wagon’s end, the better to use the outside lantern light to see. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure the children slept on—they did—and then turned her attention to the leather pouches. Unbuckling the first one, and feeling certain she’d burn in hell for doing so, she nevertheless opened it and peered inside. She poked through its contents, moving aside some folded papers.

  Then.… she saw it. Also folded. Money. Her own gasp of surprise startled her. A lot of money. More than she’d ever seen before in her whole life. Cole Youngblood was a rich man. Kate shook her head in wonder. So this much was true. He’d said yesterday he’d leave her enough money so she’d not have to worry about anything for a long time. He’d meant it.

  But besides papers that were of no concern to her and all this money, there was no wooden stake that would officially claim her land for her. Fearing the worst, yet refusing to admit that she did, she quickly rebuckled the pouch and turned the bags over, hastily opening the other side. Blowing out a breath laden with trepidation lest it not be there, she peeked inside.

  A thrill of excitement and relief shot through her. There it was. The wooden stake. Just lying there. Tied around its square top was a strip of red cloth—somewhat like a flag to blow in the wind, once it was staked in the ground, and alert other would-be settlers this land was claimed, Kate surmised. Down its length, a number was burned into it to guard against its being changed. This number corresponded with her registry entry in the land office. Her number. Kate realized she was smiling … and sniffling back tears. It just meant so much, this stake.