by Kristen Iten
The rocking motion of the coach and rhythm of the horses’ hooves put her in a thoughtful frame of mind. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. The taste of salt mingled with dust filled her mouth; the same dust that seemed to cling to everything in this part of the country. She closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift back to the morning she had started her journey.
The sun had been low in the eastern sky and had yet to dry the morning air. A foggy mist hung over the countryside. The hemline of her skirt was soaked from the walk into town through the heavy morning dew. It slapped her ankles with each step she took.
Nervous energy radiated through her body as she stood on the raised platform of the train station. She opened her carpet bag and easily found her ticket. She must have held it in her hand twenty times already that morning, but the feel of it on her finger tips was reassuring. I’m really doing it. This was the morning. Her life was about to change forever.
The train hissed its intention to leave and Abigail joined the other passengers in boarding. She was grateful to her brother for going over the route she was to take to join him in Texas. He had left her with more than enough money to make the journey and took the rest of their inheritance to purchase land for their homestead. A feeling of relief washed over her when the big wheels started to turn. Abigail knew exactly where she was heading and she was eager for the adventure to start.
The memory of leaving home without saying a proper farewell to her aunt stung a little. Despite her strict manner and opinionated ways, Aunt Virginia had always been good to Abigail. But revealing her plans would have been too risky after the threats Dr. Price had made.
CRACK!
Abigail was roused from her thoughts by what sounded like a gun shot. She sat bolt upright, her eyes wide open. The jacket fell in a crumpled heap beside her on the bench.
Everything Aunt Virginia had ever said about “the lawless west” came rushing back to mind. She sat motionless and listened for another sound, but didn’t have to wait long. Again, the unmistakable crack of gunfire pierced the air; this time it was much closer.
All at once, the valley erupted with gunfire from every direction. Abe pushed the horses hard. All of the color drained from Abigail’s face. Her breaths came in quick bursts as her heart pounded with such ferocity it felt like it might burst at any minute.
“Yah, yah!” Abigail heard Abe’s voice urging the team on.
The ride had been a bumpy one at the slow and steady pace they had been keeping, but it was almost unbearable now. The stage bounced her mercilessly as it careened down the rough road at breakneck speeds. One jolt knocked her off balance, and the next threw her to the floor. Between the bullets flying through the air and the wild ride Abe was taking her on, Abigail realized that the floor was probably the safest place she could be. She stayed put and braced for what was in store.
Shots continued to ring out as Abe pressed the horses for more speed. Angry voices called from somewhere out of sight. Everyone knew that outlaws prowled the west, but Abigail had never expected to actually meet any.
In this moment of chaos, her mind turned to Jonathan. Did he fall victim to outlaws too? She shut her eyes tightly and shook her head to banish the dreadful images bombarding her mind.
Her eyes shot open at a new volley of gunfire. Their assailants seemed to have an endless supply of lead. A small cry escaped her lips when she saw Abe fall past her window. With no one to hold them back, the horses took off faster than ever. Every bump, rock, and rut in the road threatened to tear the stage apart. A fresh wave of terror shuddered through Abigail’s body.
She lay on the floor, ears ringing with the sound of gunfire. Most of the shots came from nearby but others from much farther away. Why are they still shooting? It sounded as if an entire army had declared war on the stage.
The horses continued their suicidal race as the stage creaked and cracked behind them. Abigail’s attention turned from gunfire to another sound. Her heart dropped at the sickening crunch of splintering wood. The team’s pace didn’t slow. The coach lurched and began to sway from side to side. She knew something was terribly wrong when it never fully righted itself. Her stomach twisted into knots.
After one last volley of gunfire, the shots stopped as abruptly as they had started.
She reached for the edge of the window and peeked out only to see a man racing up on horseback. Her breath caught in her throat as she ducked out of sight again.
They had now entered a wide canyon and were careening down a dry riverbed. A tall bluff rose out of the ground to the left, too close for comfort. She squeezed her eyes shut as thoughts of her future raced through her mind. She would either be captured by desperate outlaws or dashed to pieces in a crash. She didn’t know which would be a worse fate. There has to be another option.
The sound of hooves pounding the ground alongside the coach caught her attention. Abigail stole another peek out of the window and saw the same large man riding hard. Sandy brown hair trailed out behind him in the wind. His hat would have been long gone if it hadn’t been for the stampede string that kept it tethered to his neck.
Without warning, he looked over at the stage. Their eyes locked. Everything seemed to stand still in that moment. Abigail’s heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest. His eyes sparkled like two sky blue topaz gemstones, polished to perfection. They looked all the more radiant in this world where everything was caked in a thick layer of dust. It should be illegal for an outlaw to have eyes like that.
He looked forward and urged his massive animal ahead with a deep, guttural command. Abigail knew that if anyone could stop a team of runaway horses, it would be this man. A torrent of thoughts filled her mind. She only had moments to figure out how she was going to defend herself against a man who was easily twice her size.
She heard the man’s voice over the crashing sound of the stage and peered out of the window. His now rider-less horse slowed its pace and veered away from the trail. There was only one place the big man could be. He was on the stage.
The team slowed. Soon they would be at a complete stop. Her eyes fell on her carpet bag, and she knew what she had to do. She drew down the shades and got into position.
Chapter 3
Abigail stood beside the door. She raised her mother’s old kettle above her head, poised to do battle. A coiled rattlesnake couldn’t have been more ready to strike than she was at that moment.
The floor rocked beneath Abigail’s feet when the man dismounted the stage. Spurs on stony ground announced his every step. Abigail’s knuckles were white as she gripped the tin handle. She sucked in a breath when she saw the latch on the door move.
“You all right in—”
The man’s words were cut short by Abigail’s attack. She landed a savage blow to the bridge of his nose the moment his head came into view. He staggered back, clutching his face and groaning in pain. Abigail seized the moment and leapt out of the stage. She hit the ground running.
The severity of her predicament hit her only a few steps into her escape. She hadn’t thought her plan through. There was nowhere to run. She was in the middle of nowhere, alone with a fugitive from the law.
Abigail spotted a few boulders and small land formations to the right. She headed straight for them, certain she could find somewhere to hide.
“Stop!” The tall man took off after her. The ground was uneven and sloped upward, but his long legs easily made up the distance between them. He took hold of her shoulder just as a flat stone broke loose beneath her foot. They tumbled to the ground. He landed on top.
Abigail clawed at the ground and struggled to get away, but he had already snaked his arm around her waist. She rolled over to face him and let loose two handfuls of sandy dirt. The stinging cloud hit him squarely in the face.
“What did you go and do that for?” he said. He wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
The words did nothing to calm Abigail. Eve
ry muscle in her body struggled against him. She showed no signs of surrender as she doubled her fists and landed several solid blows to his chest before he caught her wrists in midair.
Pinning her hands next to her head was a mistake. Abigail turned and bit the meaty part of his thumb as hard as she could. Finally, she felt the full force of his strength. It felt like he weighed five hundred pounds; his hands closed around her wrists like a vise. He meant business now. She could not move.
“Are you loco? I told you, I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“Let go of me!”
“I’ll let go, but you can’t go runnin’ off.” He loosened his grip on her wrists and eased off of her. He showed his hands in surrender. “There, see, we can be friends. I wasn’t part of the gang that was shooting at you.”
Abigail looked at him through narrowed eyes without saying a word.
“I was the one who scared ‘em off.” He flicked the brim of his hat with his middle finger and gave Abigail a conspiratorial wink.
“You scared them off all by yourself?” she said, disbelief coloring her voice. She looked at him sideways and stood to brush Texas off of her dress.
“Yep.” He flashed a toothy grin. There was no arguing the fact that he had an amazing smile with a beautiful set of teeth, all straight as an arrow. He had the kind of smile that could make a girl go weak in the knees, even if it was surrounded by a three-day-old beard.
“How could one man scare off a whole gang of robbers?”
“I had Milly on my side. One look at her, and they tucked their tails and ran for the hills.”
“They were afraid of your horse?” Her tone dripped with accusation.
“Why would they be afraid of my horse? We were in a gun fight not a race.” He stood a little taller and puffed his chest out. “Milly is my long gun. They knew I could out shoot any of ‘em at a distance with her in my hands.”
Abigail raised an eyebrow. “An entire band of outlaws ran off because of one gun?”
“I’ve never met a brave thief yet. They took off to find easier pickings, plain and simple.”
She took a long look at him. There’s that smile again. He seemed genuine. The fact that the gang was nowhere to be seen was evidence enough for Abigail. “I guess I should thank you for saving me.”
He tipped his hat. “It was entirely my pleasure, Miss.” His smile was infectious. Abigail felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach and relaxed into an easy grin.
“Your nose is bleeding,” she said. “What happened?”
He pointed at her kettle lying on the ground next to the dilapidated stage. “I’m guessing that happened.”
Abigail walked over and picked it up. “Oh, you dented it,” she said.
“I dented it?”
“Who would have thought a head could dent a kettle like that?” Abigail sighed and brushed the dust off of her prized possession.
“I don’t think my head was the problem. You really walloped me with that thing.” He climbed onto the stage. “I reckon this is yours.” He busied himself freeing her trunk from the ropes securing it to the roof. It slammed to the ground only moments later. “Sorry, Miss. Didn’t mean for that to happen.”
Abigail watched wide eyed as he hopped down and lifted the trunk with ease. His shirt tugged on his broad shoulders and strong arms as he carried her luggage to the other side of the stage.
She had felt his strength a few minutes before, but now she got to admire it from a little distance. It was no less impressive from her new vantage point. Growing up in a small town in Pennsylvania, she had seen her fair share of strong, young farmhands, but never before had she seen muscles like this man had.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“The axle is broken. This stage isn’t going anywhere. I figure you’ll want to pull a few things out of here before we hit the trail. You’ll be safe tucked away out of sight between the stage and the bluff while I ride back along the trail a piece.”
Abigail gasped. “Abe. He took a nasty fall. We have to go back for him.” She felt terrible for forgetting about the old driver for the past few minutes.
The man whistled for his horse. “That’s why I’m going back,” he said. He mounted his large animal and whirled him around to face Abigail. “Stay out of sight until I get back.” He was off with a soft command to his horse. Abigail had never seen a horse and rider so in sync before. She took a deep steadying breath and watched him ride in the direction of the fallen man.
After what felt like a long time, Abigail saw her stranger-friend riding toward her alone.
“Where’s Abe?” she called.
He dismounted. “Couldn’t you get that trunk open? I thought you’d be ready to go by now.” He spoke with a smile on his lips but sadness in his eyes.
“Where is he?” she asked again.
He lowered his eyes. “He didn’t make it.”
Abigail’s face turned white. The world felt as if it were tipping and turning in every direction.
“You best sit down, Miss.”
Abigail staggered back a few steps and sat on her trunk.
“If it’s any comfort, he never knew what hit him. I can promise you that. I covered him over with a little stone grave until someone can come for him.” He took his hat and smacked at the dust on his pants before sitting on one of the nearby boulders that dotted the hill country that surrounded them. They sat in silence for a little while before he spoke again.
“If you’re feeling up to it, I think we better get your things together and be on our way.”
Abigail patted the trunk she was still sitting on. “I’m already packed.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“You don’t expect me to leave my belongings here, do you? I’m not on some pleasure trip, you know. I’m moving to Sweet Creek. Everything I own is right here.” She accentuated her last words with two loud raps on her luggage.
“Why don’t you just take a few necessities? Whoever comes back for Abe, may he rest in peace, can pick up the rest of your things.”
“I don’t think you understand. I only packed necessities. This whole trunk is full of nothing but necessities.”
The man tilted his hat, covering his eyes and most of his face. He blew out a long breath.
“How about this,” he said, righting his hat and stooping to pick up a few pieces of rope scattered on the ground, “take these and bundle as many of your things together as you can.” He walked over to the four sweaty horses that were still hooked up to the broken down coach. Their muscles twitched as they chomped on the bits in their mouths. “We’ll use this boy as a pack horse.”
Abigail agreed and opened her trunk. The landslide of clothing that followed made the man laugh. Abigail joined in, remembering the day she had struggled so hard to close it. Laughter was a welcome release after the events that had just taken place. Her pulse had finally eased back into its normal rhythm, but the knot in her stomach still remained.
“Looks like you could use a hand, Miss.”
“No thank you, sir. I am fully capable of handling my own clothing. Turn around.”
“Pardon?”
Abigail heaved a heavy sigh. “My unmentionables are in here. I will not have a strange man looking at my underclothes. I don’t even know your name. Turn around.”
He flashed that smile of his once again before turning away. “The name is Jake. Now we’re not strangers. Can I turn around?”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jake. No, you may not turn around.”
“You know, I had a mama once. I’ve seen more than my fair share of bloomers strung up on the line to dry in the sun.”
“Well, you’ve never seen mine.” Abigail grunted as she tightened a rope around her first bundle of clothing. “That should do it. My private things are all hidden in the middle. You can turn around now.”
“That was quick. I’ll get these horses loose from the rig, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Oh, I’m not
done. That’s only the first one.” Abigail was on her hands and knees straightening, rolling, and binding her clothes into neat bundles. “I’m Abigail, by the way.”
“Glad to make your acquaintance.” Jake removed his hat and ran his fingers through sandy brown waves.
“You don’t suppose those outlaws will come back, do you?” Abigail looked to the hills in the east with apprehension flickering in her eyes.
“I can’t rightly say,” said Jake. “But I’ll feel a whole lot better once we’re on the move.”
Abigail stole a glance in his direction. He didn’t have the same clean cut look that the young men sported back home when they went out courting on Sunday afternoons. Even though he appeared to be about the same age, he made them all look like little boys in comparison. There wasn’t a single thing she would change about him if given the chance.
Jake turned his attention to the team. He removed the harnesses with little difficulty and led his chosen animal to where Abigail was finishing her work. She managed to bundle all of her things into four good-sized rolls. Jake made short work of securing them to the broad back of their pack animal before mounting his own horse.
Abigail looked at the other three members of Abe’s team. They were busy grazing on crunchy brown grasses growing out of the sunbaked soil.
“Which one should I ride?” she asked.
“This one.” Jake leaned forward and patted his own horse’s neck.
“Oh, no. I don’t think I should. It wouldn’t be proper.” Again, Abigail heard Aunt Virginia’s words in her head, “A young lady must act the part at all times.”
Jake rested his thick forearm on the saddle horn in front of him. He raised his eyebrows in question.
“We’ve only just met, and …” She struggled to find the right words. “It’s just not proper. Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I’m a good rider. I’ll do fine on bareback.”
“I imagine you’d do fine. Up until the time he bucks you off, that is.”
