“You have no idea what we’ve had to endure while we were growing up with precious Betsy,” he replied with a poker straight face. “She knows how to pickpocket, can shoot better than most men, and has no qualms about voicing her opinion, whether it’s right or wrong or close to insane. Oh, and she’s wicked with a broom in her hands.”
Maria peered down at him with joy still bubbling up and washing over her face. “Sounds like Abigail. Both seem to be rather assertive in their approach to life.”
“That’s a diplomatic way of putting it.” Tye rose and took time to survey her from head to toe. No woman, he decided, should look that good in riding clothes and boots. No woman’s laughter should make him feel so helplessly smitten. No woman, especially one so beautiful, should have him lassoed so tightly it hurt to breathe. He had horses to break and chores to do, and yet, here he was once again, succumbing to the will of the new schoolmarm even though he knew the trip would be futile. His brother, Marcus, had laughed like a hyena when he told him where he was headed, then had said mountain climbing was, by far, a most novel, but unusual way to court a young lady.
Marcus was the jokester of the family and now a father of two small children, a girl and boy. He had married a Danish gal who had opened a bakery in town. When she wasn’t baking the best pastries in a hundred mile radius, she helped with his sister-in-law’s pottery business. More and more Scandinavians were flooding into the area, and Anna’s bakery was doing a brisk business, selling out every day before nightfall. In fact, he had specifically requested Anna to save him some bear claws and donuts and had tucked them away in his saddlebag as a treat for both Maria and himself, and for Lenny and River Roy.
He heard Maria speak, breaking his reverie.
“And I had the opportunity to visit your sister’s General Store and purchase a few things.”
“So I’ve been told. Oh, that reminds me.” From around his saddle horn, he removed a charcoal gray Stetson. “She forgot to add this to your outfit.” He set the hat on her head, making sure the strings fell forward under her chin. His eyes never left hers while he worked. When he went to adjust the cord under her chin, he felt her soft hands cover his and send a jolt clear down to his toes. “Don’t, Tye. I can do it. I’m not helpless.”
“Sorry, I never thought you were,” he said in a smooth undertone and held his hands up in defeat. He moved away to tie the bundle of clothes to his saddle and her book bag to her mount, a sleek, little brown cow pony. He could feel the tension radiate into the air around them and was certain she felt it, too.
She walked to the front side of her mount and stroked the mare’s neck affectionately, then moved to her head and blew a few soft puffs into her nostrils. “Hey, gal. How are you doing today?” The horse tossed her head, snorted an impatient response, and sidestepped. Laughing softly, Maria said to Tye, “I have to look for saddle horses for Abigail and me. Aunt Emma only has carriage horses in the barn, although Lang Redford said two others are saddle broke. I know Uncle Henry used to ride.”
Tye glanced over his shoulder at her and was glad she changed the subject to relieve the tension. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen Emma ride a horse. I don’t know if she’s ever handled a buggy by herself, now that you mention it.” When he was finished, he gave the cow pony a few reassuring pats as well. A flicker of amusement lighted up his face. “I bought this little mare from Flint who picked her up awhile back for his wife, Julia, to ride, not knowing she had her eyes set on a quarter horse down in Colorado Springs. You’ll like this sure-footed filly. She responds well to the slightest commands. However, if you dismount, keep hold of the reins; I’m not certain she is trained to be ground tied or how loyal she might be. I’ve only had her for a few weeks.”
Maria’s gaze circled the yard. “Where’s Swamp?”
“Working back at the ranch. My men are moving some cattle closer to water.” He saw disappointment in her eyes and cursed beneath his breath. The darn dog had a better chance of winning her affections and courting her than he did. “You’ve taken a shine to him, I see.”
“Don’t be jealous, Tydall.” She laughed gently, taking the reins from him. They mounted and set off toward the west at a brisk pace with a warm breeze fanning their faces. The ride up the mountain was a leisurely one. Around them, Maria paid strict attention to keeping her mount in line behind Tye’s whenever the path grew too narrow for two horses. Above them, the birds chattered in the trees and the overcast, colorless sky was a welcome relief from the earlier heat of the day.
Minutes later, when they were riding side by side once again, Maria asked, “What do you know about Aunt Emma? Besides she doesn’t ride a horse.”
Tye Ashmore shrugged. “I know Emma came from Georgia and married a miller, who was not the best businessman around. When he died from drowning, he left Emma with a slew of debts. She was a beautiful woman, and it didn’t take long for Emma to pursue your uncle. He fell in love, paid off her debts, and married her. People around town always said she was a strange one, not especially friendly, but then, you must remember gossip in a small town has a way of spreading like wildfire in dry grass. Emma never socialized much with the other womenfolk. Maybe she felt uncomfortable mingling with those who had less. She always dressed in expensive, beautiful clothes and I’m told, even by my sister, she ran up enormous bills about town which your uncle paid. Betsy once remarked no one would ever want to get on the wrong side of Emma McNeil.”
At one point when the path became so narrow, they were forced to slip off their horses and lead them. Behind him, Tye heard Maria ask, “Why doesn’t Lenny’s dad believe in educating his son?”
Tye motioned for her to catch up to him as the path widened enough to walk side by side. “Oh, I don’t rightly know. I suppose he does, but he’s just distrustful of people. He’s led a hard life, Maria.”
“I know. I heard he lost his son in the war.”
“Yes, Walt.” He frowned. “The old man’s life has been one heartache after another. He acquired the rights to a rich coal vein and requested access from the adjacent land where it was safer to mine. Denied, he built an entrance from his property, tunneling beneath a soft area supported with only props and wooden beams. One night six years ago, his wife brought him dinner, going deep into the mine to find him. The tunnel collapsed, and she was killed. River Roy closed up the mine shaft and buried her where she fell. The cave-in was her grave.”
She took a quick, sharp breath. “Oh, how horrible.”
“And if it was tough having to see his son abandon him and march off to war, can you imagine his pain when he learned the son was killed? Ironically, Walt and Brett became good friends, drawn together being from the same area of the country. It was Walt who Brett left his army papers with before he went to spy on Southern lines. After he was killed, no one was able to locate Brett’s papers. They just disappeared.”
“Did Brett ever question River Roy about them?”
“Of course, but he swears he only received his son’s corpse in a pine coffin.”
“Could he have a reason to lie?”
“None I know of. The man may be bitter, but he isn’t known to be vindictive.”
“How will Brett ever clear his name?” They stopped beneath a huge pine tree just before the path widened to catch their breath. Maria removed her hat to let the breeze cool her head, then reset it, letting it fall onto her back by its strings.
“Right now, Brett is collecting testimony as to his allegiance to the North. I’ve even written a letter for him. But it doesn’t look good because he was in civilian clothes and found far from the Northern prisoners in the splendid company of Southern officers.”
Maria’s face tightened. There was sarcasm in her voice when she spoke, “Why would any man whose mission was to spy and gather information on the enemy hang around with his fellow Northern soldiers being held prisoner? The Southern officers would have more information about troop movement.”
Tye shrugged. They mounted again
and rode in comfortable silence until they reached the top of the mountain where they traveled deep into the forest and arrived at a dilapidated one-room cabin with a patched roof and a front porch with a broken railing. It sat before a small, bubbling stream winding its way even farther into the dense, leafy undergrowth. On the right side of the cabin was a lean-to, stacked full of rows of firewood, and on the left, a larger lean-to held four robust mules in stables. Frayed and shabby gray curtains hung limply in the cabin’s two front, flyspecked windows both badly in need of soap and water.
“Ease up, Maria.” Tye stopped his mount several yards from the cabin. “Sometimes folks aren’t too friendly when strangers approach.” He called out, “River Roy! It’s Tye Ashmore. Can you spare a moment to talk?”
River Roy ambled out on the weather-beaten porch with a shotgun under his arm and Lenny peering out from behind him. “Talk’s cheap, Ashmore. I reckon I can. Who you got there?”
“This is the new school teacher, Maria O’Donnell. You met her sister, Abigail, the other day.” Tye stepped down from his horse and held the reins to Maria’s horse while she dismounted. He reached into his saddlebag, pulled out a cloth sack, and spoke. “Anna sent some donuts and bear claws. She told me she made too many the other day and didn’t want them to go to waste.” It was a lie, but River Roy’s pride would never allow for charity. He motioned to Lenny. “Here take these indoors, away from the heat, flies, and critters.”
The boy jumped at the chance, scrambling down the uneven steps. He snatched the bag, opened it, peered in, and grinned. “Thank you!” He looked back at his father. “Pa, can I have one?”
“We don’t take hand-outs, Ashmore,” River Roy snapped.
“No, and I don’t waste food, nor do I insult my generous sister-in-law.”
The two men faced each other, and a silent standoff ensued. A minute later, River Roy let out a low chuckle and propped his shotgun against the outside doorjamb. “You Ashmores are a difficult lot to argue with. Yes, son, you can have one.”
“We don’t like to argue at all.” Tye took off his hat and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “I can do enough sparring with my cantankerous brothers and my sometimes loco sister…and it’s too hot today to be clever enough to outwit you.”
****
Maria listened to the conversation between the two men, amazed how easily Tye could diffuse a prickly situation.
She stepped forward and spoke, “I never once meant for the sketch paper and pencil to be a hand-out for Lenny. It was a present. Your son has an extraordinary talent. You can see he’s a very bright boy from the detail in puts into his drawing. I was only trying to help. My sister was thankful you came along when she encountered the lynx.”
“The boy don’t need to be playing with no paper and pencil. We’ve work to do in the woods between chores here at the cabin and huntin’ for food.” River Roy rubbed the side of his bearded face with his hand.
“If Lenny could go to school and learn to read and write, he could have a chance at doing something different than logging.” Maria tried to keep her voice level so she didn’t sound insulting.
“I need him here.”
Tye interrupted, “I agree.”
Startled, Maria looked at him with a shocked expression, but he continued, pushing his hat back slightly and squinting up at River Roy leaning against a rough wooden post on the porch. “The lumbering business is moving forward with new ways and new-fangled machinery to do the work, Roy. You know how the paper mill has taken off. They’re paying good wages in town, and it would be a shame for Lenny to work the woods when he could be making three times the amount at the mill. He’s good with his hands, his drawings are proof.”
“Then we’ll go back to the mines if there’s no job for us in the woods.”
“But Lenny can have both,” Tye said calmly. “Send him to school a couple days a week, and have him work the woods with you for the rest.”
River Roy grunted. “He ain’t got any clothes for going to school, and I don’t aim for my son to be laughed at.”
When Maria started for his saddle, Tye stopped her with a warning look. “Betsy sent a whole bundle of clothes that no longer fit my brothers. She wanted you to distribute them to the other loggers’ children in the area. Have Lenny pick out a shirt and pants from the bundle.”
“We ain’t charity, Ashmore.”
Tye sighed. “Dang! Now you want to insult my sister, Betsy, helpful soul that she is? You know River Roy, I’d shoot you right here and now and end this conversation and my misery, but you wouldn’t be worth the effort. And I’d be putting Maria here in the uncomfortable position of being a party to the crime as well as being a witness. Just send Lenny as he is. Tarnation! It makes little difference to me.”
Maria looked over to where the rows and rows of wood were stacked along the cabin. “We could do a little bartering,” she offered hopefully. She gestured to the woodpile. Her forehead wrinkled; she gave him a quizzical gaze. “By the way, what is your last name? I’m not used to addressing people with odd nicknames.”
“Sanderson.” He spit a stream of tobacco juice in the dirt below him and smiled.
“Mr. Sanderson,” she said, starting over, “I need wood to take the chill off the classroom on fall mornings. If you can deliver me a few bundles, I’ll give Betsy a few coins for the used clothes.”
“And she’ll be putting the wrath of God on her head when she does,” Tye said with a cold edge of irony in his voice. “Betsy will not be pleased. Next time you go to the store for supplies, you can deal with her and her fussy disposition. Maybe she’ll shoot you.”
River Roy laughed. “Your sister is one mule-headed woman when riled.”
“Then it’s a deal?” Maria asked. “I’ll take my chances with Betsy Ashmore.”
“I’ll tell you what.” River Roy pushed off the post to stand straight. “Lenny can come two days a week, and we’ll see how it works out.”
It was a begrudging compromise, and Maria knew it took a lot for him to make. She walked over to her horse and pulled out a book, a sketchbook, and a pencil while Tye took the bundle of clothes from the back of his saddle and threw it up on the porch.
“Lenny’s first assignment, before he arrives, is to learn to write his name.” Maria quickly and clearly printed, Lenny Sanderson, at the top. “And I want him to draw something that makes you happy, Mr. Sanderson.”
“Me? Nothin’ makes me happy, Miss O’Donnell,” River Roy muttered, his tone harsh. “When I lost my wife and then my oldest son to the War, I realized happiness is not meant for everyone.”
“If you say so,” she agreed and gave him a pointed stare, “but you better think on it and find something so the boy can properly do his homework.” She handed Lenny the book and smiled. “This is for you to look through. There are some colorful pictures on the pages. You’ll like them. The book is about animals.” She walked over to her horse and mounted. “I will expect Lenny on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but you may bring my wood whenever it pleases you.”
Together they turned their horses and headed toward the trail winding back down the mountain. Neither of them spoke. Minutes later, Tye pulled up under a stand of hickory trees, reached behind him, opened a sack from his saddlebag, and offered Maria a bear claw. “Nice work up there. You have a stern side to match the quiet reserved one.” He pulled out a donut for himself.
Maria bit into the bear claw. It was fresh, and the richness of cinnamon and sugar melted against her tongue with a delicious sweet sensation. “I have you to thank. I never thought a man could be so stubborn. Though I must admit, I feel sorry—”
Suddenly, a shot rang out and a bullet landed with a soft thud in the trunk of a tree beside them. Before Maria could react, Tye leaped from his horse, threw himself at her, and knocked them both to the ground. He rolled off her, grabbed her by her upper arm, and half-yanked and half-pushed her toward a large outcropping of rock sprinkled with briars. She stumbled and fell down
, landing on her knees and forearms, but righted herself, oblivious to the scrapes and scrambled onward. Together, they crouched behind a boulder, peering out at the vacant trail before them. Maria watched the flying tails of both horses as they cantered down the rocky mountain path. Around them, the forest grew eerily quiet in the fading light.
Chapter Ten
Crouching beside Tye, Maria looked at his grim face with wide, frightened eyes. “Do you think it was a stray bullet from a hunter’s rifle? Surely no one would shoot at us on purpose.”
Tye peered out from the rock formation, turned, slumped down on the ground, and checked his pistol. His rifle and water had galloped away with the horses. “A bullet lands that close, and you think it was an errant shot?” He stared at her with narrowed eyes. Her face was still white, and she was trying to keep her hands from shaking.
She rubbed her knees where she had fallen on the ground, rolled her sleeve up, and inspected her brush-burned arm. “If not errant, then obviously it was meant for either you or me since no other shots were fired, and we’re the only ones in the vicinity.”
“Looks that way.” He took off his hat, wiped his forehead, and blew out a disgruntled breath of air. “You just got here, so I don’t reckon you’ve had enough time to make any enemies. Are you hurt?”
“It’s nothing. Just a few scrapes. I’m fine.” She waved him away.
He nodded, pondering the situation. It was too risky to try walking down the mountain trail until darkness fell. Whoever shot at them would pick them off like ducks on an open lake. If he only had his rifle. He was certain his horse would eventually return, unless the stallion got his reins tangled in the dense brush. He hated to leave Maria without a firearm, but if he could slip through the tangled undergrowth lining the path, he just might find his horse, his rifle, and his ring flask with water. He swore softly under his breath.
“Why are you angry?” Maria asked.
Under Starry Skies Page 10
