Teaching Miss Maisie Jane

by Mariella Starr

  He went over a sat down beside her. “Maisie Jane, you’re going to have to start being more discreet. We’re in a more populated area now.”

  Maisie Jane looked around. “Jake we haven’t seen a single soul since we left the ranch except for your friend last night. Oh, and it feels so good to be clean.”

  “I understand that, but there are a lot of people out here. Best, you stay dressed decent.”

  Maisie Jane gave a sigh and headed for the wagon where she climbed under the canvas and he heard her opening trunks and fumbling around. A few minutes later she appeared dressed and stood outside the wagon straightening her clothing. Jake was changing into his last clean shirt when he saw her throw something in the water.

  She was standing by the creek bed in her bare feet.

  Maisie Jane did you just throw your shoes away?” Jake asked buttoning up his shirt.

  “Yes,” Maisie Jane answered with a happy bounce. “I hate all those buttons and they hurt my toes.”

  “Do you have another pair in among all those clothes you brought with you?” Jake asked.

  “Yes, but I don’t like them either,” Maisie Jane pouted. “I’m going barefoot. I’ve read in the dime novels where women go barefoot out west.”

  “Not my woman,” Jake said. “Go put your other pair of shoes on.”

  “They hurt,” Maisie Jane complained.

  “Then, I’ll buy you a larger size,” Jake said. “But until then, wear what you have.”

  “Drat,” Maisie Jane complained. “I want boots, like you wear. Pull them on, pull them off. No buttons!”

  “No,” Jake warned mildly. “Now, go put your shoes on and watch your language.”

  But, when Jake hitched the horses and went to wagon she was still barefoot.

  “Maisie …”

  “They hurt,” she pleaded. “I’ll put them before we get to your friends house, please.”

  “All right,” Jake gave in and lifted her up on the seat. “You didn’t throw them away did you?” he asked suspiciously.

  Maisie Jane shook her head. “No, but I going too!” she threatened.

  “Not until you have something to replace them with,” Jake warned shaking his head. “And, then you don’t throw them away, you give them to a church so they can find someone who needs them.”

  “I want boy boots,” Maisie Jane said grinning and propping her little toes up on the front of the wagon and wiggling them.

  “No,” Jake said grinning back.

  Two hours later, when Jake and Maisie Jane drove up to a good sized log house Maisie Jane had her shoes on. She had brushed her hair and had taken off her plain bonnet and put on a jaunty hat decorated with silk flowers and feather plume with the ribbons tied neatly under her chin.

  Jake pulled the wagon to a stop and looked around. The place looked deserted, no signs that anyone was living there. “Stay put for a minute,” he warned Maisie Jane.

  Jake went to door but there was padlock on it. Then, he walked over to barn, and opened the doors. No horses, no cow.

  “What is it Jake?” Maisie asked.

  “He’s not here,” Jake said. “No one is here. He must have gone off for spell, because there’s a lock on the door. Most people don’t lock their doors because most people are honest.”

  Jake lifted Maisie down.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “We’ll stay the night. We’ll put the wagon in the barn. Brett wouldn’t begrudge us night of shelter. Tomorrow, we’ll head off to Elco and then onto Virginia City to the land office.”

  “What are we going to do all day?” Maisie asked.

  Jake gave her a grin and she blushed.

  “We can’t do that all day,” she said rolling her eyes.

  “I agree, reluctantly,” Jake admitted. “There’s a stream down past that pasture. Last time I was here it was running clean. “You can wash up our clothes. You do know how to wash clothes don’t you?”

  “Yes, I can do that,” Maisie said sounding like she was being put upon.

  Jake was mending harness when he heard a rider come into the barnyard. He walked out of the barn and faced a double-barrel shotgun.

  One lone old man sat a horse with a shotgun aimed at his chest.

  “Whoa,” Jake said spreading his hands wide. “I’m not wearing a gun, I’m not a threat.”

  “Who are you and what are you doing here?” the old man asked.

  “My name is Jake Maddox. I’m a friend of Brett Madison, known him for twelve years.”

  “What’s his wife name?” the old man demanded.

  “Mrs. Charlotte Bundy Madison.”

  “What’s his boys’ name?”

  Jake shook his head. “I don’t know, the baby hadn’t been born the last time I was here, it should be about two now. His dog’s name is King.”

  “Fair enough.” The old man said. He lowered the shotgun, dismounted and offered his hand. “Levi Campbell. Brett’s land borders mine. I’ve been keeping my eye on the place because he said he was expected you.

  “Where are Brett and Charlotte?” Jake asked and then jumped back when he heard gunfire off to the side of the barn.

  Jake turned when he heard a gasp behind him and there was Maisie Jane, his rifle on the ground in front of her where she’d dropped it. Jake shut his eyes and turned back to Levi Campbell. “Excuse me, sir,” He marched over to Maisie Jane, picked up his rifle, leaned it against the outside barn door and took her arm and marched her inside.

  Levi Campbell was putting his shotgun in sidesaddle holster, when he heard a whomp and a yelp. The old man chuckled. That didn’t sound like a hit on flesh, but he’d bet a dollar that Jake Maddox had just whomped that pretty little gal a good one on the behind.

  Jake reappeared at the barn door. “Sorry about that, sir. My wife seems to have a problem with keeping her hands off my guns. Now, Mr. Campbell, you were about to explain about Brett and Charlotte.”

  Levi Campbell chuckled and nodded toward the barn. “If Brett had done that a few times to Charlotte she might still be here.”

  “She left?” Jake asked.

  “Let’s walk down to the creek. The time for these old bones to be riding is over. It stiffens me up something awful.”

  Jake followed the older man. “’bout a year and a half ago, Brett was over at the Hoffenburgers place helping him build a feed shed for wages. He was gone four days and he comes home to an empty house. Charlotte and that baby boy of his, Sammy was gone. Brett hightails it off to town, but she’d already taken the stage three days earlier heading west to San Francisco. Her folks sold the mercantile a few years back, and moved on to San Francisco. Her father got some fancy job with the railroad. Charlotte left Brett a letter saying she wasn’t coming back and if he wanted her and baby, he’d have to go to California. Brett took it real bad. He went into the bottle for a while, before I threatened with a horsewhip. He wrote her, she wrote him, he wrote her back but the bottom line was she wasn’t coming back. She didn’t want to live the life as a homesteader’s wife. She was living in some fancy house in a fancy neighborhood in San Francisco. Her leaving and taking his boy just about kilt Brett.

  Two months ago, he come riding over to my place and told me he was going to San Francisco. Said this place wasn’t worth losing his family over. Said his father-in-law had a good job waiting for him here. Told me he’d locked up the place and there was a letter to you inside. I was to give you the key so that’s what I’m a doing.” The old man handed Jake a key.

  Jake took the key. “Did you read the letter?”

  “Can’t read, never learned. Brett pretty much told what’s in it though. He left this place to you. Went to the new land office in Elco and changed over the deed to your name, all legal. All you got to do is sign your name to the deed. I’ve got two good plow horses, and a cow in my barn, and half dozen steers mixed in with mine that belong to you. Cora, that’s my wife, has the chickens. All you have to do is come over and get them.”


  “I can’t take Brett’s property,” Jake said. “That’s not right.”

  The old man wagged his head. “All Brett has in this land is the $10.00 filing fee and years of hard work. He completed the prove-up two years ago, so he has a clear deed. He didn’t want to sell it to you. He wanted to give it to you. He told me what you did for him when he was kid, putting a knot in his tail and keeping him on the straight and narrow. He wasn’t proud of what he did, but he was proud to call you a friend, Mr. Maddox. Said, you were the big brother he didn’t have, but needed.

  It’s been two months already since Brett left. If you don’t sign the legal papers in four months the state will consider the land abandoned. The land will revert back to state and they’ll put a price value on it and sell it. It’s got a good house - better than most, all fancied up for Charlotte ‘cause her folks was always a-freighting something out here to her. It’s got a sturdy barn, good equipment and tools. He left all of it to you. I don’t know you, Mr. Maddox, but I know Brett. This is what he wanted. The house and everything in it is yours. He didn’t want any part of trying to take it with him. He left with a riding horse, and a pack horse, and that’s all he wanted.”

  Jake took a few steps away and turned back. “This doesn’t sit well with me. Taking what another man worked for; put his sweat into.” He shook his head. “That’s not right.”

  Levi Campbell leaned back to get crick out of his back. “If’n this property reverts back to the state, it would probably sell for about a $1.50 an acre, and I ain’t too fond of state taking what doesn’t belong to them and making a profit on it. You might want to offer the fair value of it to Brett. But, having said that, I don’t think he wants money. He’s done with it, but he wanted it to go to someone who would work it and make something out of it. You got yourself a pretty little wife, and it’s the end of September already. Snow’s gonna start maybe as early as next month. You don’t have time to file a claim, build a house and barn this year. You might get a cabin built, but wintering over would be real rough. My advice, although you ain’t asked for it, is sign the papers and winter it out here. That will give you thinking time and I have an address where you can write to Brett.”

  Jake faced the old man. “Mr. Campbell, if I was the big brother Brett needed, I’ll bet you were the father he needed.”

  The old man smiled. “That’s a compliment I’ll take Mr. Maddox. Now, I’m going get me a drink of water and go home. I’m all dried out ‘cause, I ain’t talked this much in a month.”

  Jake walked the man back to his horse and shook his hand. “I haven’t had much time to think about this, but what you said made a lot of good sense. Whatever way I decide, I’ll be over to your place to talk over my decision with you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Maddox.”

  “It’s Jake if we’re going to be friends,” Jake said.

  The old man leaned down from the saddle and put his hand out. “It’s Levi.”

  Chapter 11

  Maisie Jane cried and walked the length of the barn and cried some more. Why? She stamped her foot. Why did she pick up Jakes rifle? She’d seen the old man ride up and had come up to the barn and come through back door so she could tidy herself up a bit before meeting him. Then, she’d seen him holding that really big gun on Jake and she’d been so scared. The only thing she’d thought of was trying to save Jake. Then, the big gun had gone off, and that scared her and she’d dropped the Jakes’ rifle. Jake had come in looking so angry and given her such a hard whack on her bottom that still stung.

  Maisie Jane kicked a bail of straw, and then kicked it again and again.

  “Are you about through with this temper tantrum?”

  She spun around, her hands automatically going behind her to cover her bottom. “I am so, so, sorry, Jake.”

  “You will be,” Jake said ominously. “Come with me.” He took her hand and almost had to drag her to house, she was so reluctant. He opened the lock and pushed the door open. It was dark in the house, there were shutters closed on the windows. Jake went over and opened the shutters of three windows. The room was good-sized with a large fireplace and mantle. There were two very large chairs with high backs and looked to be covered with leather, a rocking chair and a cradle over by the fireplace. There were a few tables scattered around the room. One was set between two leather chairs and boasted a fancy inlay top of different woods. A bureau stood against one wall, with more fancy inlay that matched the table. There was a desk with side drawers and a bookcase loaded with books as well as a few trunks scattered around. Every surface, the mantle, the tables were loaded down with fancy china figurines, and fancy oil lamps with painted flowers and beading. The only piece of furniture in the room that was masculine was the desk, which was plain wood with a plain brass lamp setting on it.

  Jake went through the room to find a kitchen, Maisie Jane following close on his heels because he hadn’t let go of her hand yet. Again, he pushed back shutters. There was a inside pump, built on top of a wooden dry sink, a step-top cook stove in cast iron, a table and four chairs. There was a cabinet built against one wall loaded down with cooking pots and fancy dishes and more china figurines.

  He opened a door to a narrow hallway about six feet long and opened another door to a smaller room. There was a large fancy brass bathing tub, and a long piece of furniture with a marble top where a pretty porcelain pitcher and bowl set with a porcelain waste pot under the ledge of the marble top, more china figurines.

  He backed out of the water closet and went through the kitchen and found another door and opened it. This was the bedroom with a four-poster brass bed with curling decorations and knobs and a store bought mattress and a smaller fireplace with a box stove in the hearth. There were also two more bureaus, dark wood with marble tops, and off in the corner a crib. This room only had a few pieces of china scattered around.

  Jake went back into the front room and looked around again.

  Maisie Jane had finally detached herself Jake. “There’s an envelope here with your name on it here, Jake.”

  Jake walked over to the fancy table and picked up the letter but he didn’t open it. He turned and faced one of the windows. He’d never be able to afford fancy furniture and fancy things like this if he filed for homestead. But, there was no way he could deny Maisie Jane a comfortable safe place to live for the winter either when it was handed to him on a silver platter. Winter on the high basin was bitterly cold. He walked over to Maisie Jane and kissed her on the forehead.

  “I’m not promising you that we’ll stay here permanently, but we’re going to spend the winter here.”

  “Really?” Maisie Jane said looking around and then she jumped up and hugged him around the neck. Then, she jumped down and ran over to the bookshelf and dropped to her knees to read the titles.

  Jake opened the letter and read it. It was very much what Levi had told him. Brett wasn’t upset about leaving his homestead, it was more important to him to get his family back. He did give a bit of insight about his wife. Apparently, she was more spoiled than Maisie Jane. If she wanted something, she’d write to her parents and they have it shipped to her. Brett hated the interference from his in-laws. And he’d disliked a lot of fancy furniture they’d sent but had lived with it to keep Charlotte happy. He told Jake in the letter that if he didn’t want the stuff to burn it and enjoy the fire. It was Jake’s home now, to do with it what he wanted.

  “Maisie Jane, I’m going to go put the horses up in the stalls. You might want to look around and see if you can find what we need to spend some time here.” Jake suggested.

  “My laundry!” Maisie Jane exclaimed and she ran out of the house. Jake followed her to the door and watched her running across the meadow toward the creek where she had clothing spread out all over the bushes. She was barefoot again.

  By late afternoon, Jake had pretty much investigated every piece of equipment, and every tool on the place. He’d mucked out the barn, but since there hadn’t been any animals it for two mo
nths there wasn’t that much cleaning to do. Finally, he went over to house and found Maisie Jane happily dusting and playing house. She’d found linens and blankets for the bed and even what she called a “pretty blue” one for the top. She hadn’t figured out yet how to get water out of the pump, but she’d found a couple of buckets so she’d carried some water into the house. She was happy.

  Jake went back out to barn and walked around a bit. He hated what he had to do. He hated spoiling Maisie Jane’s good mood. Damn, he hated spoiling his good mood. But, he had obligations as a husband. Maisie Jane had defied him, ignored what he’d told her not to do, and disobeyed him twice in three days. She had to learn to listen to him. She could just as easily have killed herself, or him, or two other men. Jake tried to work himself up to a good mad but it just wasn’t coming. It was easier to serve up justice if he was mad. Finally, he just pictured his Colt in her tiny hands, turning a loaded weapon this way and that and pointing that barrel toward herself. It didn’t make him mad, but it ground down into his gut how she kept putting herself in danger, because she wouldn’t listen. He’d not allow that. He set himself to do what must be done.

  Maisie Jane was so happy. Jake said they could stay here for the winter and it was such a nice house. She looked up when Jake came into the house but her smile faded. He was carrying his saddle. She followed him, as he walked past her, went into the bedroom and put his saddle square in the center of the bed and turned to her.

  “Maisie Jane, come here.”

  She shook her head. “No, Jake, no.”

  “Sorry, darling, but it’s yes.” Jake said firmly. “Come over here and take your skirt, and your petticoats off.”