Melinda and the Wild West

by Linda Weaver Clarke

  MELINDA AND THE WILD WEST

  A Family Saga in Bear Lake, Idaho

  By Linda Weaver Clarke

  Copyright © Linda Weaver Clarke, 2006. Second Edition, 2012. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without permission in writing from the author. Recording of this work for the handicapped is permitted.

  Red Mountain Shadows Publishing

  Cover Design by Serena Clarke

  Melinda and the Wild West

  By Linda Weaver Clarke

  Smashwords Edition

  Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

  ALSO BY LINDA WEAVER CLARKE

  A Family Saga in Bear Lake, Idaho

  (Sweet Romances)

  Melinda and the Wild West

  Edith and the Mysterious Stranger

  Jenny’s Dream

  Sarah’s Special Gift

  Elena, Woman of Courage

  The Adventures of John and Julia Evans

  (Mystery/Adventure)

  Anasazi Intrigue

  Mayan Intrigue

  Montezuma Intrigue

  Desert Intrigue

  Non-Fiction Ebooks

  Writing Your Family Legacy

  Reflections of the Heart

  Dedication

  To the memory of Gilbert and Sarah Weaver (1835–1909), my great-great-grandparents, the first pioneers who settled Paris, Idaho.

  Chapter 1

  HEADING WEST

  Melinda wanted to do some good in the world. Perhaps make a difference in someone’s life. Maybe she could do some good by teaching school in southern Idaho in a small town. She had dreamed of going out West to visit her aunt and see how wild it really was. She had heard stories of outlaws, seen pictures of the scenery in books, and now her dream was coming true. She was going to teach school and board with her Aunt Martha. Melinda was floating on a cloud. Life couldn’t be better.

  It was 1896 and women were more independent than ever before. She had gone to college to be a teacher at a time when women weren’t encouraged to do so. She fought for her rights and received a degree at the age of twenty-six. Now she was on a train headed for Paris, Idaho.

  The train slowed down and she could see the terminal up ahead. Peering out the window, she searched for her aunt and uncle as the train came to a screeching stop.

  Melinda picked up her carpetbag and carefully walked down the steps of the train, holding her skirt up so she would not step on them. As she stepped down to the ground, the attendants and men at the terminal stared. It had been a long time since they had seen a lady like her come into town. Melinda was a strikingly beautiful woman with eyes as green as emeralds. She was an unusually tall and slender woman, which caused many a head to turn.

  Melinda wiped a stray curl from her brow and nervously smoothed a few wrinkles from her dress with her hand. She was dressed in a violet muslin dress that was gathered at the shoulder with puffed sleeves to the elbow and a lace collar. To add to the elegance of her dress, she had plenty of petticoats beneath to give body to her skirts, which accentuated the slimness of her figure. Her creamy skin and slender throat were emphasized by her dark auburn hair, which was loosely piled upon her head with three tortoise shell combs holding it in place.

  “Who are you looking for, ma’am?” the train attendant asked as he placed her trunk beside her.

  “My aunt and uncle. They were going to meet me here.”

  “Melinda!” Aunt Martha’s voice rang from the far end of the terminal. She ran toward her and they met with outspread arms.

  Uncle William followed slowly behind with a smile as he watched the two women embrace. He was a short, round, heavy man with a salt-and-pepper mustache and thin graying hair. He was a jovial fellow and was loved by all.

  Aunt Martha was a slender woman and was as tall as her husband, about medium height. Her hair was gray and placed upon her head in a loose bun and she had a twinkle in her eyes.

  After hugging one another, Aunt Martha asked, “Is this all of your luggage?”

  “No, the attendant is coming with two more trunks.”

  “Two more?” Uncle William gasped. “Sure hope they fit in our little carriage.”

  After loading the three trunks, they headed down the street for home. Aunt Martha smiled as she put an arm around Melinda’s shoulders. “Melinda, it is so nice to see you. You have really grown since I last saw you. My, you are so beautiful. I just knew you would be, even after seeing you at fourteen years old. You just had to be. The young men here enjoy dancing and I know that you will not be sitting on the sidelines at the dance socials, that’s for sure.”

  Melinda blushed. She felt embarrassed from her aunts compliments.

  “The train terminal is in Montpelier, but we live in a little community called Paris, just ten miles south of here. That’s where you’ll teach.” Martha waved toward the mountains with excitement as she continued. “This little valley is located in the tops of the Rocky Mountains. It’s quite lovely, set between these mountains with a large lake nearby called Bear Lake. It’s only ten miles south of Paris.”

  “Bear Lake?”

  “Yes.” Excitement seemed to fill every fiber of her being, simply because her beloved niece was finally here, a dream she had long awaited. “It’s named after the bears that roam around here. It was originally called ‘Black Bear Lake’ because of all the black bears. But we’ve just shortened it to ‘Bear Lake.’ It’s seven-and-a-half miles wide and twenty miles long. Also, we have something that other lakes don’t have and that’s the little Bonneville Cisco fish and the great Bear Lake Monster.”

  Melinda laughed. Her mother had told her about the Bear Lake Monster, an old Indian legend. It was hiding away in the depths of the Bear Lake.

  “Hey,” said Martha. “Don’t be laughing. Many a person has seen that ole monster. It’s just like the one in Scotland. You know, the Loch Ness Monster.”

  Melinda held back her laughter as she listened to her aunt.

  Uncle William gave Martha a sidelong glance and chuckled jovially. He could tell that his wife was excited to tell Melinda everything about the area. He gave her a hug and Martha leaned against his shoulder and squeezed his arm lovingly.

  After traveling over a dusty and bumpy road, they arrived at their home in Paris, near the West Mountains. Uncle William took the trunks out of the carriage and put them in the spare bedroom upstairs while Aunt Martha showed Melinda around the house.

  Martha’s house was a comfortable and charming home. The living room had an attractive fireplace with a sofa and four soft chairs placed evenly around the fireplace, and a piano was set on the opposite end of the room. There was a white-framed door that led into a large roomy kitchen with a table and six chairs. A staircase with a white railing led up to the bedrooms. As Melinda ascended the stairs, she noticed pictures of family members hanging on the wall of the staircase that were placed evenly apart. She realized that her aunt was meticulous in all that she did.

  After Melinda freshened up, she put on a simple pink-flowered muslin dress and Aunt Martha took her to the tiny one-room schoolhouse that was located in the center of town. It was a quaint, wood-framed schoolhouse and she noticed that it had a fresh coat of white paint.

  Melinda reverently walked up the steps of the schoolhouse and opened the door. When she entered, the floor squeaked under her feet. She looked around and saw that the desks were lined up evenly in four rows with five desks in each row. The wooden desks each had a hole in the upper right hand corner for a glass inkwell. Right away, Melinda thought she w
ould have to assign someone the job of “inkwell monitor.” This person would keep the inkwells filled. She smiled as she noticed a few blue stains on the wooden floor where some of the ink had spilled.

  Next, Martha decided to show Melinda their magnificent lake. As they rode, Melinda was in awe at the majestic Rocky Mountains before her. The jagged cliffs were magnificent and she could not take her eyes off the inspiring view. The flat, rich meadowland spread out for miles and miles between the mountains, exhibiting more shades of green and yellow than she could ever have imagined; and among all this were patches of bright red Indian paintbrush that seemed to set the land on fire. She had never seen such splendid scenery in her life, and certainly not something as grand as this. She was used to the city life with all its hustle and bustle, the street noises, and the towering buildings.

  They passed acres of farmland, and she saw hundreds of cattle that were grazing in fenced pastures. When they came upon the lake, her eyes widened at its beautiful aqua color. It was not the color of the blue sky, but the most beautiful pristine aqua color that she had ever seen in her life and it shimmered as the sun sparkled upon it. Peacefulness overtook her as she listened to the waves softly lapping against the shoreline.

  Melinda realized that she would need to explore this valley with short walks each day. This was now her new home.

  Chapter 2

  THE RUGGED STRANGER

  The following morning, Melinda took a stroll along the countryside to enjoy the fresh air. She knew she would not have much spare time after school started because of the responsibilities as a teacher. It did not take long until she found a lush and beautiful field with a cool stream nearby. So, lifting her skirts, she carefully climbed the fence so she could investigate this beautiful scenery.

  Melinda felt a freedom she had never felt before. As the breeze gently brushed past her cheeks, she suddenly felt an exuberant need to run. Lifting up her skirts, she ran through the field toward the stream, where she tossed aside her shoes and socks. Melinda gathered her skirts with her left hand and held them up as she walked down the middle of the stream, her right hand poised to keep her balance. The fresh, cool water trickled against her ankles and it felt so refreshing.

  Melinda stopped for a moment and watched a couple of birds flying and swooping in the air, chasing one another. Is this a form of courtship or are they having a lover’s spat, she wondered. The thought made her laugh out loud and her long eyelashes seemed to flirt with the breeze as she waded through the stream.

  Melinda noticed the ditch curved to the right. Looking up, she was startled to see someone watching her in the middle of her reverie. She stopped abruptly where she was and her lips parted with surprise. She brushed a loose curl from her eyes with the back of her hand and smiled.

  In a most subdued manner, she said, “Hello.”

  The man stared at her with piercing brown eyes, as if he were searching for an explanation. He was an imposing figure, six-foot-two inches tall and every inch of him was muscle. He had broad shoulders, dark brown hair, and was ruggedly handsome. His arms were tanned from the sun and his shirt could not hide the bulging muscles rippling across his shoulders and chest.

  He looked about thirty years of age and the sight of him took her breath away. His thumbs were tucked behind his belt as he stood watching her and he had a slight smile on his face, as if he were amused.

  Here she was, a grown woman, wading in a stream of water. She was so embarrassed. Suddenly she felt warmth creep into her face. Melinda worried that she might have intruded somehow. Feeling a bit intimidated by his stature and muscular build, she tried to get her courage up. She took a deep breath and then plunged in with her first question.

  “Have I trespassed onto private property, sir? If so, I didn’t mean to.” She waved a hand in the direction she came from and explained, “I climbed the fence back there. I guess I should have known better.”

  When the man realized he was staring, he looked embarrassed about it and quickly answered in a soft, deep voice. “No, no. It’s all right. My cows graze in this pasture and I was going to round them up for milking. I’m sorry if I startled you.”

  Melinda noticed that his tone was apologetic and could not think of a thing to say.

  “Don’t worry. Everything’s fine. Please stay as long as you like.”

  For some reason, his face was flushed and he seemed to be flustered as he spoke. Then, without another word, he abruptly turned and briskly strode away.

  Feeling confused about why he had acted so flustered, Melinda curiously watched him stride down the field. She could not help but wonder who he was. His voice was soft and kind, his features and mannerisms were rugged, and his eyes were gentle. What a combination! But why did he seem so flustered?

  Looking down at her wet feet and legs, she gasped and quickly dropped her skirt. No wonder he had acted so embarrassed. A respectable young woman would never reveal her bare feet, let alone her legs. She laughed softly to herself. How could she have forgotten her upbringing? Was it being out in the open air, feeling free and unfettered from the stifling life of the city? If so, she liked this new feeling of freedom and was happy to be a part of this wild country.

  Noticing the sun setting, Melinda realized that she had stayed out a little too long. Quickly, she stepped out of the stream and ran toward her shoes. She sat upon the ground to put them on and once again thought about the quiet stranger she had met. Who was he? Was he an example of what all men out West were like? Were all men this tall and rugged looking? Remembering his frame, she grinned. Were all men in the West that well built? If so, she was going to love it here. Back east, she had never seen such a man before. This was so different from the city!

  Remembering his dark eyes and quiet mannerisms, she smiled and thought she might like to get to know this man a little better.

  At the dinner table, she asked her aunt and uncle whose property she had just intruded upon. Maybe she could discover something about this rugged-looking stranger without sounding too interested in him.

  Aunt Martha placed her fork on the side of her plate and began. “His name is Gilbert Roberts. He owns a ranch down yonder and has acres of land. He’s a dairyman and a rancher. He has a hired man that milks the cows, but he works alongside him. He’s a real good person to his hired help, I understand. If anyone gets in a pickle, he’s right there ready to help out.”

  Martha shook her head solemnly and said softly, “He’s a widower, too, but he doesn’t seem to socialize much. Gilbert has a daughter about eight years of age. His wife died in childbirth. They had only been married for about a year when she died. It was real sad. He’s been alone ever since and had to raise his girl without any help. He’s real independent when it comes to being a father. He never asks for help and likes it that way.”

  She passed the potatoes to Melinda and smiled. “You’ll probably have his daughter in your class. Some folks say that because he has no wife, his girl has gone wild. Personally I think she’s a sweet young thing. Her name’s Jenny and I hear that she gets in a few fights at school, a real feisty young girl. The last teacher said that she was a real troublemaker.”

  Melinda listened carefully. She felt sorry for Gilbert, but she did not want to become interested in a person with a problem child, especially one who had been married before. She had had enough of the married men she met at the university. They were all so opinionated and stubborn, not believing in education for women and having little respect for her…and she was fed up with such narrow-mindedness.

  Men who had been married before seemed to be set in their ways and resented change. They would often remind her that it was about time she settled down and learned to cook instead of going to college or teaching, and this infuriated her. Melinda’s education was important to her, almost as important as equality between the sexes.

  She knew that she was making a judgment about Gilbert, but she could not help it. Gilbert had been married before; therefore, he would most certainly be opi
nionated and stubborn. She would never marry a man who would attempt to “put her in her place.”

  So she quickly dismissed the idea of getting to know this rugged man. But somehow, she felt drawn to him and had no idea why. Maybe it was his quiet demeanor and soft-spoken voice. Maybe it was his embarrassment and boyish attitude as he became flustered and quickly turned and left. Perhaps it was his muscular build that intrigued her. She grinned inwardly. Then she shook her head. No. No matter what, she was not interested and that was that.

  Chapter 3

  THE BANK ROBBERY

  The following day, Melinda sat at the table enjoying lunch and a pleasant conversation with her aunt and uncle. As she took a bite of overdone, dried roast beef, she asked, “Why is it so hard to cook roast beef and make it have a moist and tasty flavor? I have never in my life tasted a well-seasoned roast.”

  Aunt Martha laughed, “Don’t worry, my dear. You’ll catch on to it some day. Some people just have a knack for cooking. It’s the same with me. Some days it’s moist and other days it’s dry, and I can never figure out the secret.”

  Melinda turned to her uncle and asked, “Uncle William, may I please take the carriage into Montpelier? I have some errands to run. School starts in a couple of weeks and I need to order some supplies and open my own account at the bank.”

  William gave a nod. “Of course. I’ll get the carriage ready.”

  Melinda put on a lovely white muslin dress that was fitted snugly to the bodice and gathered at the waist. It hung smoothly and gracefully about her hips. Smiling at herself in the mirror, she pinched her cheeks for color. Grabbing her handbag, she met Uncle William outside.

  After she climbed into the carriage, he handed her the reins to the horse. “He’s gentle. You won’t have any problem. Just remember to hold on tight so you have control at all times.”

  “All right, Uncle William. Thank you.”

  Realizing the time, Melinda whipped the reins and sped down the road toward Montpelier. She needed to get to the bank before it closed. It was August thirteenth. School would begin in only two weeks and she had a long list of chores to accomplish.