Mountain Christmas Brides

by Mildred Colvin

  “Jared!”

  “What is it?”

  “I know where we are.”

  “You do?”

  “Well, not exactly where we are, but within a couple of miles. This is Uncle Bill’s fence.”

  “Are you sure?” He pushed Chief around and bent down out of the saddle.

  “Yes. He bought new fencing last spring to enclose his south range. The barbed wire is different from the old stuff and different from any of the neighbors’. Everyone remarked on it at the time. See how it’s got these flat metal slices twined in at every barb?”

  Jared squinted. He was so stiff, he couldn’t lean lower without falling out of the saddle. “If you say so.”

  “I do.” Hope surged up inside her. “We’re at the boundary of the ranch. I’m not certain where along that boundary, but if we follow the fence, we’ll eventually get home.”

  Jared was silent for a minute. Neither of them spoke the thought that hung in the frigid air. The horses wouldn’t last long enough to trace miles of fence around the Logan Ranch’s outer boundary. They could freeze to death on Bill Logan’s land.

  “Can you get back on Patches?”

  “I’ll try.”

  Getting her foot up to the stirrup was a feat, but she managed. When she tried to swing up into the saddle, her heavy skirts weighed her down in the deep snow.

  “Jared, I don’t know if I can do it.”

  He nudged Chief up close on the other side of Patches and reached across the empty saddle. “Take my hand.”

  She reached up and tried to grasp his gloved hand, but her cold fingers didn’t want to bend around it. How would she ever hold the reins? He seized her wrist with icy, leather-covered fingers and hauled her upward. She gave a jump and sprang free of the drifted snow and almost overshot the saddle, but Jared steadied her.

  “Here you go.” He leaned down and snagged Patches’s trailing right rein. “Can you keep on for a while?”

  “We’ve got to.” She eyed the black colt with concern. He stood with his head and neck lowered and his eyes closed. “Is Chief all right?”

  “He’s exhausted.”

  “Maybe Patches could go first for a while and break trail.”

  Jared hesitated then gave a nod. “He’s a tough old cow pony. Let’s give it a try.”

  Patricia lifted the reins, and without her guidance, Patches began to walk slowly along the fence. They traveled obliquely to the wind now, and it blew across her cheek, more gently it seemed.

  They had gone only a matter of yards when she spotted a bulge on a fence post and leaned to examine it.

  “Jared! It’s a gate.”

  He brought Chief up next to Patches and bent low to work at the wire. It was only a spot where the wires were looped over the top of a fence post, so that they could be taken down if the ranch hands wanted to ride a horse through. He couldn’t pull it free, so he dismounted. After a minute, he had worked it loose and laid the wire back toward the next fence post.

  “Wait,” he called. “There may be another strand lower down, under the snow.”

  She nodded and waited while he waded into the gap.

  “I feel it.” Jared shuffled to the fence post and dug down through the snow with his hands.

  “Can I help?”

  He shook his head and kept working. At last he straightened, holding another loop of wire. He carefully pulled it back, yanking it up through the deep snow.

  Patricia urged Patches forward. A moment later they were inside the fence, on Logan land. Well, Lord, she prayed silently, I wanted to be home for Christmas, and here I am. Thank You for getting us this far.

  Jared led Chief through and mounted. Patricia peered around but couldn’t make out any landmarks in the darkness.

  “What now?” she called.

  “Follow the fence.”

  She turned Patches in the direction they had been traveling and sent up more soundless prayers. With each step, the horse dragged his feet up out of the snow. Once he floundered, belly-deep, in a low spot. Jared came alongside, grabbed Patches’s reins and spoke to him. The horse calmed and found his way out. They went on for what seemed like hours, and Patricia became aware of something ahead—something large and dark in her path. Patches took two more steps and stopped. They stood outside a small structure.

  Jared squeezed Chief’s sides, but the colt refused to take another step.

  “I think it’s a line shack,” Patricia yelled over her shoulder.

  “Oh, thank You, Lord!” Jared slapped Chief’s withers, none too gently. “Come on, boy. We’re here.” The colt pushed forward a few more steps.

  Patricia swiveled in her saddle and screamed, “Smell that?”

  Jared inhaled deeply. The cold air filled his lungs, and he caught a whiff. “Wood smoke!”

  She laughed and turned forward, drumming Patches’s sides with her heels.

  A few steps closer, and Jared could make out a faint glow. The golden light seemed to come from a small window in the cabin wall.

  “This looks like the shack in the south forty,” Patricia said. “See the lean-to?”

  Jared nodded and swung down off Chief’s back. He remembered riding out here as a youngster with his father to check on the herd grazing the south range. Those were great times. This line shack was probably as far as it could be from Bill Logan’s house and still be on his ranch. At least two miles, as the crow flew.

  He tugged the reins gently, and Chief followed him into the dark lean-to. Only a few inches of drifted snow had made it inside. Using his teeth, he pulled off one glove and felt along the wall. Thank You, Lord!

  He let Chief’s reins fall and went back to the opening.

  “Trisha! Bring Patches in here. There’s hay and a barrel that might have some feed in it.”

  She plummeted to earth just outside the lean-to. Jared reached out to grab her by the shoulders.

  “You all right?”

  “Yes, but my legs are numb.”

  He pulled her farther inside, out of the wind, and she collapsed against him for a moment. He held her close just for a second. “We’re safe now.”

  She pulled away. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Nothing. Let’s get you inside. These horses won’t go anywhere.” Already he could hear them munching the hay they’d found. “I’ll come out and unsaddle them after I thaw my hands.”

  They plunged out into the blowing snow once more and around the few steps to the door of the shack. It bothered him that no other horses were in the lean-to. But someone had lit the fire inside.

  “Hey!” Jared raised his fist and pounded on the door. A moment later, it was pulled open a few inches, and a weather-beaten, wrinkled old woman squinted out at him.

  “Annie?” Patricia stared at the old woman who served the area as a midwife. A new fear grew in her chest with the realization that Aunt Edna must do without Annie’s services, at least for tonight.

  “Land sakes, child! Where did you come from? Get in, get in! Out of the storm. Quick, now.”

  Patricia and Jared tumbled into the cabin, and the old woman slammed the door on the wind. The quiet and warmth enveloped them. Patricia looked around. Two bunks, a small table with benches, a box stove, a few wooden crates stacked for storage. She gravitated toward the woodstove and struggled to unwind her scarf.

  “Let me help you, Miss Patricia.” Annie tugged the uncooperative scarf around until it came free.

  Patricia pulled off her hat. “Oh, we’re getting snow all over the floor.”

  “Don’t worry about that now. You must be half froze.”

  “More than half, I’m afraid,” Jared said.

  The old woman turned and looked him up and down. “Who might you be, mister?”

  “Annie, this is Jared Booker,” Patricia said. “You remember his father, Rupert Booker, was my uncle Bill’s partner when he bought the ranch?”

  Annie squinted at the tall, snow-covered man. “Don’t look like that scrawny Booke
r boy to me.”

  Jared laughed a deep, rich chuckle that warmed Patricia more than the sputtering little stove did.

  “Well, it’s really him, Annie. He was on his way to visit Uncle Bill, and I tagged along, coming home from a trip to Denver. But what are you doing here?”

  The old woman began to work Patricia’s coat buttons. “Get your things off. We’ll thaw you out. Why, don’t you know, I smelled the storm coming yesterday, and I set out for the ranch house. Thought I’d go over and stay with Edna in case she needed me. I know she’s not due for a couple of weeks yet, but I didn’t want to be stuck at my house three miles away when her time came. Might turn out that no one could fetch me when that babe took a notion to come.”

  “And so you’re stuck here now instead,” Jared said.

  She nodded grimly. “That’s right. The snow comes on sudden in these parts. Got so I could hardly see where I was going. Almost missed the fence and kept on out into nowhere.”

  “Oh, Annie! I’m glad you found this shack,” Patricia said.

  “Me, too. I decided to hole up here until the snow let up, and I’ve been here one night and the better part of two days.” She pulled Patricia’s coat sleeve. Patricia let the heavy garment slide off. “Sit down on that bench now, and let me get those boots off you.” Annie pushed her gently toward the table.

  Jared used his teeth to help peel off his gloves.

  “Get your coat off, Booker, or whoever you are,” Annie said.

  “I’ll just warm my hands up for a minute. Then I need to go out and tend to the horses.”

  “How many you got?” Annie asked.

  “Two, in the lean-to outside.”

  “They’ll want water. We’ll have to melt lots of snow.” Annie scooped up a clump that had fallen from Patricia’s clothing and threw it into a steaming pan on the stove. “I’ve got two buckets. When you go out, you can fill them and set them inside. I’ll work on melting it down while you tend your critters. Then, if you’re not frozen stiff, you can get more.”

  “Sounds good.” Jared flexed his fingers and then spread both hands again, closer to the stovetop. “I need to get their saddles off and bed them down.”

  Patricia winced as Annie eased her left boot off. “At least I can feel that one.”

  “You can’t feel the other foot?” Annie asked. “I hope you ain’t frostbit.”

  “Ouch!” Patricia gasped as the blood tingled her fingers. She rubbed her hands together. “Pins and needles.”

  “That’s a good sign.” Annie’s face wrinkled into more canyons and valleys as she bent over Patricia’s other foot. “I may not be able to untie this until the ice melts a bit.”

  “I could cut the lace,” Jared said.

  “No, but let’s move this bench closer to the stove.”

  Jared worked diligently at the lacing until at last it loosened. He grasped the heel and pulled the boot off. “There! Now let Annie give you some of that tea she’s fixing. I’ll go see to Chief and Patches.”

  “I’ll have tea and hot oatmeal ready for you when you’re done,” Annie said.

  Patricia grimaced. “Oatmeal?”

  “Can’t be choosy.” Annie’s beady eyes sparked. “We’ve got some canned beans and peaches, too. If you don’t like the vittles, tell your uncle Bill he needs to stock his line shacks better.”

  Chapter 5

  Jared could see that Patricia was worried about her aunt, knowing the midwife hadn’t made it to the ranch. Of course, for all they knew, Edna didn’t need Annie’s services yet. But babies were known to arrive at odd times. As he scooped snow into the two pails, he assessed the swirling, drifting flakes. A rip-roaring blizzard. He wouldn’t want to go more than a few steps from the cabin. He sent up a swift prayer for the Logans. You know what’s best, Father. We’ll wait on You for direction. Can’t do much else. But I thank You from the bottom of my heart for letting us find this cabin.

  He set the buckets inside the cabin door and took the lantern from Annie. Wading through the thigh-deep snow to the lean-to took all his energy. Already the cold sapped his body heat. Both horses had their heads down and their hindquarters to the entrance. He called out to them and slapped Patches’s white rump. The gelding snuffled and sidled over enough toward Chief to let Jared in beside him. The colt let out a soft whinny but returned immediately to munching hay.

  If we’d been out any longer, these horses wouldn’t have made it. Jared shook off the thought and felt about for the barrel he had spotted earlier. The top was secured with a clamp to keep animals from getting into it. He set the lantern down and quickly removed the clamp. The barrel was more than half full of crimped oats. He wished they had some sweet feed for the horses. He would have to ask Annie if their limited supplies included a jug of molasses. That would perk these animals up and give them a little more nourishment to fight the cold. He scooped out a coffee can full of oats for each horse and dumped the rations on the ground, on top of the hay they were nibbling.

  The knots in the leather straps that held the saddles on were stiff. He held the lantern up close but despaired of warming the leather enough to make it pliable. His own hands weren’t warm enough for that either. He considered slicing through the cinches, but when he got out his knife, he found he could dig at the knot on Patches’s saddle with the tip, and though he gouged it somewhat, after several minutes he got it loose.

  At last the horses were free of their burdens. He stored the tack on an overhead rack and plunged out into the storm again. The irregular mound to one side of the door must be a woodpile. With great effort, he dug the snow away. His hands were already numbing, but he managed to pull out several sticks of firewood. All he could think of was getting warm. He stumbled toward the stoop, wondering if he could make those few steps.

  He couldn’t open the door to the cabin with his arms full, so he kicked the lower boards. Patricia opened it.

  “Oh, Jared, you’re covered with snow. Come in, quick!”

  A lovely smell of cooking food met him, and the interior of the little shack seemed overly warm. The snow on the roof and banked all around the cabin no doubt insulated it, and heating the twelve-by-twelve room was not a problem. He lowered his armful of wood into the rough box near the stove and stepped back nearer the door to remove his snowy outerwear.

  “Don’t want to get the floor all wet,” he explained as he handed Patricia his hat and gloves.

  “I’ll sweep it down the cracks in the floor before it can melt,” Annie said. She advanced with a sorry-looking broom and attacked the little clumps of snow that had fallen from his boots and coat.

  The plain food filled his hollow belly, and afterward Jared sat on a bench with his back against the edge of the table and stretched out his long legs toward the stove. Patricia helped Annie gather up the dishes. All day, he’d thought of her mostly in terms of her danger and the desperate situation they’d put themselves in. Now he noticed anew how lovely she was, even in this shabby cabin. Her dark hair swirled about her shoulders as she worked. Her mouth, set in a determined line, had a shape that made his stomach flutter. She’d been at a fancy party in Denver before they met up. They lived in different worlds now.

  She looked over at him and smiled. “How are you doing? Did you get enough to eat?”

  “Yes, thanks.” Jared turned to look at the older woman. “Annie, that may not have been the most elegant meal I’ve ever eaten, but it was the most welcome.”

  “Thankee.” Annie stacked the dirty dishes. “We’ll save these for later. I can wash dishes anytime, but those horses haven’t had a drink of water all day. We’ll melt snow until they’ve had what they need, then we’ll think about wash water.”

  “I hate to send you out again to take it to them,” Patricia said to Jared. “Maybe I could go this time.”

  “No.” He climbed to his feet. It was too dangerous to send either of the women outside in the howling storm. “I know it’s not far to the lean-to, but I can’t touch the cabin wall
all the way because of the woodpile. I brought my rope in off my saddle, and I’m going to tie one end of it to the door handle outside. Didn’t see anything else it would hold on. And I’ll fix the other end to something in the lean-to. Then I won’t take a chance on missing my way.”

  “It’s that bad?” Annie asked. “You could get turned around just from here to the shed?”

  “Easy.” Jared pulled on his damp boots. Good thing he’d greased them well before he set out on this adventure.

  “Take these two kettles and fill them with snow,” Annie said. “I hate to keep opening that door, but we’ll have to melt snow all night if we want enough water for those animals and our own needs.”

  “It’s all right, Annie,” Jared said. “Just make me a place to sleep on the floor when I come in. I’m tired to the bone.” He pointed to a space between the table and the stove. “There. I’ll be able to keep the fire up in the night without disturbing you two any more than necessary.”

  “Now there’s a gentleman.” Annie nodded at Patricia. “You’re young. You take the top bunk.”

  Patricia started to protest then shrugged. “Yes, ma’am. I guess that makes sense.”

  “You’re exhausted.” Annie propelled her toward the bunks against the far wall. “While Mr. Booker tends to the horses, you pile into bed. And I don’t want any arguing from you.”

  An hour later, Jared settled down on the floor with a wool blanket under him and a tattered quilt as a covering. The two women seemed to be asleep already. There was no question about Annie; her gentle snores, with occasional louder snorts, reminded him of the night noises in the bunkhouse at home. He assumed Patricia lay beneath the mound of blankets on the top bunk, having seen no sign of her since his last foray outside for more snow to melt.

  He blew out the lantern and pushed it carefully to one side on the floor. He could still see a glow of orange through the draft holes on the box stove, but the night was so dark that he couldn’t tell where the two windows were. The wail of the wind keening about the little shack soon obliterated even Annie’s snores.

  Was this whole trip a mistake? His father had bequeathed the three-year-old stallion to Bill Logan. The copy of the will Jared carried in his inner coat pocket was indisputable. But what if Bill was still angry with his old friend and wouldn’t accept his final gift? Patricia seemed friendly enough, although their perilous situation today hadn’t left much opportunity for them to renew their acquaintance. He’d like to. All these years, he’d thought of her as a cheerful little pest. He’d missed her plenty and had wished he could see her again. But he’d never dreamed she’d grown into such a beautiful woman. How would she and Bill react when he revealed the purpose of his journey? Had she absorbed her uncle’s resentment of Rupert’s behavior?