by Indiana Wake
A narrow path led from the field into the woods. She knew it led to a quiet stream fed pool where Pa had taught Zach to fish. It was her brother’s favorite spot to relax or think when he had a problem to wrestle with. Miriam stopped with her toes just brushing the packed dirt of the path.
“Zach, supper’s ready.”
Only the sigh of the wind through leaves answered her. A sleepy bird twittered above her before falling into silence once more.
“Zachariah, you answer me right now, or I will throw your food to the animals.” It was the worst threat she could think of, but there was still no answer. Had something happened to him? Was he hurt or unconscious, unable to answer?
Miriam eyed the dirt path beyond her pink toes with increasing nervousness. She could see only a few feet ahead from where she stood now. Maybe if she went in a little ways, she could see more.
She stared at the pathway, just wide enough for her feet and sweat popped out on her brow. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest and she couldn’t catch her breath.
Her brother was down there somewhere in the gathering darkness. Maybe needing her help. She had to find him.
Clenching her hands into fists, Miriam’s fingernails dug into her palms as she slid one foot forward. It touched the path and a cold line of sweat traced its way along her spine.
So far, so good.
She moved her other foot to join the first and the blood pounded in her ears. She could do this, she had to.
She was fully engulfed within the shadows now. Her chest hurt from the pounding of her heart and the effort to breathe. Sour sweat trickled into her eyes making them sting.
She tried to take another step, but her feet refused to move. Like a statue frozen in time, she was unable to break forward. But she must, she had to keep going. Zachariah needed her.
She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. The roaring in her ears became voices, dark and thick with malice. Her stomach heaved and she could taste bile in the back of her throat. Something touched her arm and she screamed. Flinging her arms out, she tried to fight off the monsters that wanted to hurt her.
“Miriam. Miriam, stop. It’s me.” Strong arms lifted her and held her flailing arms at her sides, but she continued to thrash frantically until she felt the last golden rays of sun on her face.
Slowly the panic faded, leaving her drained and weak. Trembling she stared up into her brother’s pale face.
“Miriam, what happened?” Zach folded his long legs and sat on the ground, crushing half-grown corn beneath him. He pulled her down next to him and held her close as he used to when she woke with nightmares as a child.
She curled into his chest and let herself feel safe. “I thought you had gone to the fishing hole. I was worried.”
“I walked the ridge this time.” Zach rocked her gently. She hadn’t been a girl for a long time, but it soothed her just the same. “But what frightened you like that? Did you see a bear or wolf? What was it?”
Miriam just shook her head, shame burning like bile in her throat.
Her brother scooped her up into his strong arms and carried her back to the house. He sat her in their mother’s rocking chair and knelt on the floor before her. He peered up into her face, smoothing back the curls that refused to stay pinned back.
His gaze searched hers until a glimmer of understanding came. “Is that why you want to go?”
“You can’t always be here.” Miriam’s voice was rough and raw from screaming. “You can’t protect me from the shadows.”
“You are safe here, for I will find the shadows and keep them from hurting you ever again.”
Grief pulled Zach’s face into lines far older than his years as he realized that it was no use. “Then we will send you to a place where the shadows won’t follow.”
Chapter 4
Miriam stepped down from the train to the hot boards of the platform. The sun beat down with a relentless glare that made her grateful for the hat brim shading her eyes. The stifling heat was so different from her forested hills, but Miriam rejoiced in the change.
There were no terrifying shadows here.
“Miss Owen?” She turned to face the man who spoke. He looked a few years older than her twenty-three with weathered skin and a freshly trimmed mustache. He was tall and had the broad shoulders of a man who had worked hard all his life. “Loretta described you well. I’m Sam Hewlett.”
“Mr. Hewlett.” Miriam placed her hand into his offered one. Even through her gloves, she could feel the scars and calluses of a farmer and immediately felt at home. “She spoke well of you, too.”
“Not well enough, it seems.” Sam gave her a rueful smile. “But I think it may have been for the better. Do you have any other baggage?” He took her carpet bag from her.
“I have some trunks on the baggage car. My brother insisted on bringing my mother’s things along. He said a bachelor has little use for such feminine fuss. There he is now.” Miriam gestured toward the young man swaggering toward them. A porter followed behind wheeling her two trunks on a handcart. “I hope you don’t mind that he came, he insisted on meeting you in person.”
“And so he should. I would do the same if I had a sister as pretty as you.” Sam took Zach’s offered hand and gave it a firm shake. “I hope you plan to stay a while.”
Zach smiled a trifle grimly. “I’ll stay until my sister is either married or comes to her senses and returns home with me.”
“Ah.” Not sure what to say to that, Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.
Miriam looked from one man to the other, struck by their similarities. Not that they looked alike. Physically, Sam was tall and muscular while Zach was barely taller than she was and his build was lean and wiry like Pa was. No, the thing that made them seem similar was the weathered skin, callused hands and that absolute confidence that they knew their place in the world.
Miriam envied them the latter. Had she ever known where she fit in her world? Her hardworking mother would shake her head over Miriam’s need to climb trees and bait a hook with worms for fishing. Her stern father didn’t know what to do with the girl who brought home stray animals to nurture and raise. Even Zachariah shook his head at her love of books and learning even years after she left school.
She had never quite fit with them. They loved her, but never quite understood her. After the shadow monsters came, Miriam had drawn away from them even more, unwilling that they should guess her shameful secret.
Perhaps here, in the land of few shadows, she could start over. Maybe even find a place where she truly fit.
Zach insisted on seeing Sam’s homestead before he would even consider heading back to his own farm in the West Virginia Mountains. He and Sam loaded the trunks into the back of the buckboard while Miriam waited on the seat. From her vantage point, she could see all of the main streets and beyond.
The low hill just outside of town held rows of grave markers, some stone, and some simple wooden crosses. She wondered why it was placed so far away from the church.
A deep rumbling sound came from somewhere behind her. She turned her head far enough to see beyond her bonnet. A cloud of dust rose from the plains surrounding the town with a single rider out in front.
Then came the cattle.
A great mass of them, covered in the fine red dust that hung in the air long after they passed. These were not the gentle-eyed jerseys she had known growing up. Sharp horns spread wider than her hands could reach. They were lean and restless, their bodies shoving and bumping in the street that suddenly seemed too narrow. Their long horns clacked and rattled against their neighbors until nothing else could be heard.
The beasts, their eyes wide and rolling, passed within a foot of the wagon where she sat. Miriam nearly choked at the hot, dry smell of their bodies and fumbled for her handkerchief hoping it would filter out some of the dust.
A cowboy, as covered in dust as his charges, yanked his horse to a halt beside the wagon. Bright eyes glitte
red from under his ragged hat. A cold shiver ran down her spine despite the heat.
Had the shadows followed her?
He crossed his arms over the pommel of his saddle and leaned toward her. Miriam fought the urge to shrink back.
“Well ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.” The voice slithered out of her nightmares and into the light. “A breath of fresh mountain air in this miserable dust bowl.”
Chapter 5
Miriam ripped her eyes from his and she turned to look up the street again. The distant cemetery was obscured by a wall of red dust. It was as if she was surrounded by dust, with shadows. Had he followed her? If not how had he come to be here?
A dusty red horse pulled up alongside, it tossed its head and froth sprayed from its mouth splashing across Bart’s leg. It drew her eye and she found herself staring.
“Move it, Bart, we gotta get these here cows to the stockyard afore we collect our pay.” Another cowboy rode up and motioned them forward. “I fer one am lookin’ forward to a bath and a drink at the saloon. So get yer self-movin'.”
Bart reached over and touched her chin. Bile rose in her throat and ice sat in her stomach. Then his touch was gone and he sat upright and gathered his reins into one hand. Touching the brim of his hat to Miriam he said, “I’ll be seeing you.”
His leering grin left an empty pit in her stomach and a cold sweat slid down her back as he rode away.
She struggled to find the type of sharp retort she had used in the past, but the shock of his presence was too much. She had thought herself safe from his evil, thought she had escaped.
By the time the cattle had passed, Miriam had recovered a measure of her poise. She wiped futilely at the dust coating everything but soon gave it up as a lost cause. The fine red powder still hovered in the air and it seemed to have seeped into every crease and pore.
“Try this.” Sam hauled himself up into the seat beside her and offered her a clean neckerchief dampened with water. Gratefully, she wiped her face and neck.
“They’re not supposed to bring the herds through town. The stockyards on the edge of town are bad enough without parading the animals down Main Street.” Sam frowned and urged his team of horses to a steady trot. “That was the Crazy A herd. As nasty a bunch of hard cases as you will see in these parts. Even the marshal walks softly around those men.”
“Are they from around here?” Miriam was almost afraid to ask. Would she have to watch for her old enemy every time she came to town? Maybe she had been foolish to try and escape, maybe going back with Zach was the better choice after all.
“The Lazy A is an outfit from Texas. They don’t come around much except when they have a herd of steers to ship. Dodge has the biggest stockyards around and the trains run direct so the ranchers don’t have to worry about catching a spur line.” Sam steered the team north of town and they finally left the haze of dust behind them.
Miriam let herself relax. As long as she avoided town when the herds were coming in, she would be safe. She sat back and looked around what she determined would be her new home. Perched on the tailgate, behind the trunks, Zach kept up a running stream of derisive comments. Miriam ignored him.
True the land seemed dry and the sun beat down with an almost perceptible weight, but her eyes eagerly sought the distant horizons. Although the land seemed flat, many dips and hollows offered refreshing shade. A few miles outside of town, Sam turned the wagon onto a faint trail that led over a small rise.
He paused at the top and Miriam clasped her hands together with delight. A green oasis spread out below her. Tall trees, strange to her, spread their leaves high above a tiny sod house and a nearby lean-to with the sparkle of a stream sending out winks of light. Acres of corn in neat rows and swatches of wheat waved gently in the wind.
“Oh Sam, it’s wonderful.” Miriam sighed.
Even Zach could find nothing unpleasant to say and had to resort to crossed arms and a noncommittal grunt.
With a grin, Sam snapped the reins over the horse’s backs and guided them down the hill. “The house ain’t much, but I got enough rocks to lay the foundation of a real house.” He nodded toward a large pile of cut stone. “I found an outcropping of good stone not far away and been dragging a few more every week.”
He pulled the team to a stop and jumped down from the wagon. He reached up to clasp Miriam around the waist and lifted her down. She submitted to his hands with wonder. It was a rare thing for anyone to offer her the courtesy.
She heard Zach grumbling about spoiling women and them taking on airs, but she just smiled up into Sam’s handsome face. She stood where she was and searched his face for something, just what she didn’t really know.
Chapter 6
“I’m glad you’re here, Miriam.” Sam’s words were quiet and for her ears alone. He brushed a stray curl from her cheek with the back of one scarred knuckle. “I hope you stay.” Then he turned away to answer Zach’s shout to help unload the wagon.
Miriam stayed where she was in the shade of the tree and stared out across the bountiful fields. The breeze cooled her red cheeks and her heart beat a rapid tempo within her chest. Here she was, twenty-three years old, an old maid by mountain standards, and for the first time in her life, a man made her cheeks heat and her heart flutter. Now she could appreciate the light in the eyes of her young friend Loretta when she looked at her new husband.
A touch on her elbow had her looking up into Sam’s face. “Would you like to see the house?” He led her to the piled stones rather than the tiny soddy. “I was going to wait ‘til it was built to find a wife, but then decided a woman might want to be in on the planning of it.”
He led her across the ground, building the house in her imagination. Wooden stakes marked the future placement of walls, doors, and windows. Sam voice reflected his excitement as he painted his vision for her until she could almost see the sturdy walls, the large airy windows, and the smooth plank floors. She struggled to comprehend the size of what to her seemed a mansion fit for a king.
“That’s all well and good, but what will you be living in until then?” Zach’s wry voice broke into their dream. “I guess you want my sister to live in that dirt hut over there?”
Sam flushed behind his mustache. “It’s only for a while.”
“Meanwhile, my sister lives in there.” Zach pointed toward the little house made of stacked sod.
This time when Sam’s face flushed, it was with anger. “I have been living in that for three years and it ain’t killed me yet. In fact, it is better than a tent or a dugout which is what a lot of people live in.”
Miriam stepped between the two men who were now standing toe to toe glaring at each other. She slapped a hand to each heaving chest and pushed them apart, or tried to. “Sod house or stone, the choice is mine.” She waited until she had both men’s attention.
“Your plans for the stone house are wonderful, Sam. But Zach is right; it will be some time before it is ready to live in.” Miriam glared at Zach when he snorted in satisfaction. “But the sod house is better by far than the tent that Grandfather offered Grandmother on their wedding night.”
She stepped back until the door was right behind her and crossed her arms. “For right now, it is getting late in the day and I am growing hungry. I will make supper and I expect you to work together and finish unloading the wagon. I will sleep in the house tonight. You two will sleep over there.” She pointed toward the lean-to where a mild-eyed cow watched them and a few ragged chickens scratched at the dirt.
With the men safely busy, Miriam took a deep breath and opened the door to the house. It wasn’t as bad as she expected. Granted, it was dim with only two small windows to let in the light, but it was dry and without the dank, musty smell she had anticipated. There were few furnishings. A rough stool and table occupied one corner of the room and a narrow bed peeked from behind a curtain.
A large, cast iron stove dominated the room with its stovepipe disappearing through the wall to the outside. When
she checked inside, the banked fire had burned down to coals. It brightened up again as she fed it a few small chunks of wood. It didn’t take long to find the makings of a pot of soup. If nothing else, Sam kept an organized and well-stocked pantry.
Later that night, she lay down on the mattress. A flicker of light from the grate of the stove sent bright shadows dancing across the curtain. The straw-filled cushion was thick and smelled of summer, but sleep eluded her.
How was she to choose between the brother she loved so dearly and the man who offered her a new chance at life? If she stayed with Zach, she would be cared for and comfortable for the rest of her life. Even if he married, she felt sure she would be welcome for as long as she wished to remain. She could live in the quiet green hills that held everything she held most dear … and the scene of her deepest fear and shame.
Yet, if she stayed here in Kansas, would she ever see her brother again?
Chapter 7
Miriam rolled to her side and the mattress crackled under her ear. She watched the light of the fire dance on the curtain. Within their shadows, she seemed to see Sam’s face. His eyes crinkled in laughter, his voice filled with subdued excitement as he brought his dreams to life in her imagination.
Then, that evening when he bid her good night, his eyes had stilled, looking deep into hers. They seemed to speak of things he dared not voice. She cupped one hand around the other, the one he had held and where his fingers had lingered in a near caress, and pressed it to her speeding heart.
If she stayed and married him, they would live together in this house; they would work the fields and tend the land. If she stayed and married him, they would share this bed. She could picture him there, his head on the pillow beside hers. His eyes tender, his hard, callused hands gentle.
