Willa and the Trapper

by Sharon Ryan

  “I am not hungry, Shamus.”

  Willa had not felt her appetite slip like this since Sneed had made her afraid of the townspeople. After she married Shamus, she had hoped that she would never feel that kind of wasting again, yet that same feeling had arrived once more.

  “Four weeks.” Willa’s voice was almost a whisper.

  “Yes,” replied Shamus. “Now, come on, eat with me. This is delicious. I love coming home to meals like this.”

  “Four weeks,” she repeated, louder, her expression more somber.

  “You see a ghost?”

  “Don’t you dare toy with me now, Shamus, not in my house.”

  “Our house, wife.”

  “Four weeks? You have the nerve to leave me on our first Christmas together, husband. How chivalrous!”

  “Now—”

  “Don’t you interrupt me!” Her voice boomed.

  “Don’t you yell at me. I’m being peaceful, just trying to enjoy this lovely meal. To be honest, I didn’t even think of Christmas. Like you, I’ve been alone so long the holidays were never anything all that special.”

  “Clay and I loved Christmas.”

  Willa stood, staring into a barren world.

  Shamus felt a pang in his chest, knowing that he had unintentionally hurt the person he loved more than anything in the entire world.

  “I’m sorry.” That was all he could say.

  “Sorry, huh?” she shot back. “You only think about yourself, don’t you?”

  “Willa, you know that’s not true. You know—”

  “I know you’d rather go on some silly adventure with strangers than spend time with your wife, the woman with whom you made a commitment.”

  “To my thinking, I’m doing this for you as much as for me. I’m doing this for our future family.”

  Willa guffawed. “You do whatever it is you need to do for that big ego of yours, Shamus.”

  “Please,” Shamus pleaded, “don’t laugh at me. The only other person interested in this post is that possum-looking Sorensen. I’ll be damned if people like that make choices for you or our future children. He’s a monster and more importantly an idiot, and I stand a chance to stop him. Please, let’s just enjoy supper before Joe gets here.”

  As soon as Shamus mentioned Joe’s arrival, which would only serve to separate her from her husband, Willa felt her chest tighten. Breathing immediately became slightly difficult.

  “Very well,” she said. “Your mind is made up. My mind is made up, too. Damn it all, I’m going back to trousers. I’m going back to holding onto that Remington for dear life.”

  “Willa,” Shamus said, visibly angry, his face red, “do not talk such nonsense. You only get yourself into trouble when you hold that rifle.”

  “Like hell! I’ll shoot like a mad woman. There’s not a thing you can do while you’re away.”

  Instinctively, Shamus picked Willa up, and she was now on his knees, his hand placed squarely on Willa’s rear. Shamus wanted to give Willa a hard swat, but something deep inside of him stopped the urge.

  Willa looked up at Shamus, and he saw the slight tears in her eyes.

  “I don’t want you to go,” she muttered, meekly. “I need you, husband. Here. I don’t want you to leave me. I already lost Clay; I don’t want to lose you, too. I can’t tolerate the thought.”

  Shamus stood up and put Willa on her feet.

  “Lass.” He said the pet name so gently that Willa thought her heart would break. “My beautiful lass.”

  He kissed her forehead, and she let her fingers linger in his copper-colored hair. Then, he moved his mouth to hers. Slowly, Shamus licked Willa’s lips. Softly, he bit her lips. She began to moan, and Shamus held her close.

  When their lips finally parted, Shamus said, “I will return as quickly as I can. That is my promise to you. As quickly as I can.”

  Without warning, the couple heard a knock.

  “Joe,” said Shamus. “Come on in.”

  Joe entered and took off his hat. Shamus offered him some food. For Willa, everything happened quickly. She knew the men sat, talked, ate and drank, but she found herself disinterested in their words. She could only focus on the coming absence.

  The two men loaded up Shamus’ gelding; then, Shamus held Willa close to him, kissed her neck and said, “You be good.” Then, they were off.

  Willa knew that soon, maybe within a few short hours, her great sorrow at Shamus’ parting would again be replaced by an almost indomitable anger.

  Chapter 14

  That night, Willa lay in bed both smoldering and feeling despair simultaneously. She knew she needed to get up to care for the stock, but now, wallowing seemed to be the best use of her time. Tears stung her eyes much the same as how her backside had once stung from Shamus’ hand.

  “How dare he leave me alone. He’s heartless to do this knowing what I have already been through,” she pouted and thought to herself. “I miss him already, and I can’t bear having to manage all of this by myself once again.” Sandy jumped onto the bed, and Willa reached out her hand. The pup happily nosed and then licked it. Willa smiled and lifted the covers she was hiding under, so the growing pup could join her.

  “The only friend I’ll ever have…” Willa muttered as she let herself doze off for just a little while longer.

  The second time Willa woke was late by chore standards. The sun was up, but the day was still overcast and cold. She wished she could stay in and prepare a warm breakfast for herself and Shamus. Willa sat up, sighed and put her feet onto the cold floor. She was grateful to have put her heavy wool socks on after Shamus left and before she fell asleep again; otherwise, she would have been chilled for the entire day. Shamus usually woke before Willa, and he was quick to coax the fire into heating the place since he knew Willa often felt cold.

  Still feeling glum, Willa reached over to her everyday work dress and prepared to face a lonely day of chores and mundane tasks. It hadn’t crossed her mind to do something she might enjoy, something that might derail her unhappiness and fury. She felt trapped and unable to fight back against this perceived injustice.

  Sandy ran to the door, joyfully wagging her tail in anticipation of a morning adventure. Willa looked at the happy brown eyes, and she momentarily let herself be swept away by the pup’s enthusiasm.

  “I guess we can get everyone fed and then get the fire going for breakfast, huh, girl?” Willa said as she turned to grab her coat.

  Both woman and pup made the rounds: mash to the chickens, hay to the mules and stallion, as well as hay and extra oats to the mare that was due to foal in the spring. Willa, of course, fed and milked Buttercup. The gentle cow met Willa at the gate. Willa felt that Buttercup was looking past her to find Shamus since he had been doing the milking as of late.

  “I miss him, too, girl,” Willa said as she set the milking stool beside the cow’s flank. The task was mindless, and Willa was lost in her thoughts. Once finished, and even though she could see her breath from the cold, Willa lingered with the steady creature, snuggling with the cow’s warm body. Willa fought back tears as she walked toward the house. Once inside, she finally released the tears in her brimming eyes. The house looked so empty, and she felt so alone.

  It took a long while for Willa’s sobs to dry up, but she felt as if she had set her burden down and was now ready to do the next necessary thing. Afterall, she was well versed in getting along all by herself. She moved over to the stove and was grateful to find embers underneath the charred remains of past fires. Last night, Shamus had lain down the law about their future – his law anyway. As she placed logs over the embers, Willa fired up her old resolve.

  “Well, if he wants a career in politics, let him have it. I don’t need him, and I intend to show him that I won’t even notice that he’s gone,” she huffed.

  Willa set the coffee to boil and put two biscuits from last night’s dinner onto a tin plate and set it on the stovetop to warm them. As the house and her body began to warm up,
so, too, did her ire.

  “I’ll show him!” Willa growled as she stormed over to her trunk to retrieve Clay’s last pair of trousers. Willa had intended to piece them out for a quilt. She made this decision the day she and Shamus wed. Willa was now glad that she hadn’t cut the garment into squares. She angrily shook the long pants out; then, she unfastened her skirt and stepped out of it. She stuck her legs into the trousers, and after retrieving her breakfast, plunked herself into a chair. As she munched her biscuits and drank the hot coffee, she planned out the rest of her day as well as her immediate future without her husband.

  Four weeks later, Willa was running low on supplies and figured a letter might be waiting at the post office in town. She had kept up with taking care of the stock, and she found herself feeling grateful on more than one occasion that Shamus had the idea to build stronger lean-tos for the stock. The snow barrier and warmth the new structures created for the animals eased Willa’s mind and lessened her workload as she didn’t have to add as much bedding to keep the animals cozy.

  She woke early, mostly because she was cold. Once out of bed, she got busy straight away. She could see the fiery colors of dawn fading into a grayish lavender. Another gloomy day, but at least the cloud cover would keep the temperatures from dropping while she traveled to town.

  Willa was eager to get on the move and saddled up both mules, one with Shamus’ pack saddle so that she could bring back provisions. Willa hadn’t been to town since she and Shamus had wed, and now that her husband had been gone for weeks, Willa was eager for some visiting, some conversation. Sandy followed in the snow, staying in the path made by the mules’ hooves.

  Once in town, Willa tied the mules to the hitching rail in front of Joe’s smithy shop. She hoped he could keep them comfortable and feed them a bit of warm bran while she did her errands.

  “Mrs. Harding!” Joe exclaimed as Willa and Sandy entered his shop. “And to you, too, pup!”

  Willa smiled. “Good morning, Joe,” she said, grateful to hear another human voice. While Sandy and Buttercup were pretty good company, Willa realized that she had become accustomed to and craved some human companionship.

  “Joe, I was hoping you could take care of my mules while I lay in supplies. Maybe you could give them a little bit of warm mash?” Willa said.

  “Sure,” Joe said. “Anything for Mrs. Harding! You know, many of the folks in town, myself included, sincerely appreciate the sacrifice that you and Shamus are making for us. We need both the representation and the leadership. Shamus is a good man and will help promote our best interests.”

  “Yes, I suppose he will,” Willa agreed. “His concern for others is probably why you and Mr. Wilson picked him.” The words stuck in her throat as she thought that Shamus seemed to care about everyone except her. Except for his wife!

  “Don’t worry about your mules, Mrs. Harding. I will take good care of them. Go take care of your business. I think Lucy Wilson is due for her break soon. I’m sure you both have some catching up to do.”

  Willa smiled at the mention of her friend’s name and turned to leave. “Come on, Sandy, let’s go,” Willa said, only to find the pup fast asleep by Joe’s fire.

  “Don’t worry about her, Joe said. “She is welcome to stay here until you head home.”

  Willa walked over the wooden planks of the sidewalk, watching for her friend, and it wasn’t long before Lucy emerged from the dressmaker’s shop. Willa squealed, and Lucy trotted toward her.

  “Willa! Oh, Willa!” Lucy cried as she approached Willa and then circled her in a warm embrace. “I am so happy to see you!”

  “Yes,” Willa sighed. “I guess I won’t be able to answer your question until Shamus comes home, whenever that is.” Consoling her friend, Lucy smiled.

  “Well, we will just have to make the best of it,” Lucy chirped. “Come on, I’ll go tell Mrs. Swann that I’d like to take a long lunch break today. We can go back to my parents’ house and enjoy some tea and lunch. I’m sure Mother will make up some eggs and grits if she doesn’t already have a pot of soup simmering.”

  Willa smiled, and the two friends walked off arm in arm.

  After a lunch of fresh chicken soup and warm sourdough bread, Willa and Lucy sat in the Wilsons’ parlor. Mrs. Swann had insisted that Lucy take the rest of the day off with pay, the older woman stating that she didn’t mind paying for Willa to have a good visit.

  “I am sure that Mrs. Harding needs time with a friend,” Mrs. Swann had said. “It must be unbearably lonesome for her out away from town. Consider it my way of showing my appreciation for Mr. Harding’s service.”

  Lucy was grateful for the time and had great delight in lifting Willa’s spirits as she wanted to console her friend.

  “Willa, I am so happy that you could make it into town. I’m sure you have had to make big adjustments to being by yourself again. It must be hard to go back to all that responsibility,” Lucy ventured.

  “Yes,” Willa sighed, “in some ways I feel it would be better had I never met Shamus.”

  “Oh, don’t say that! Remember Sneed and how some of the townsfolk were acting? No, Shamus is doing good work for all of us, and most people know it. I think they also understand what a hardship this is for you and are willing to help if you will let them. Willa, you don’t have to do this alone.”

  Willa sighed as memories of events before the wedding crept into her mind. Yes, Shamus had certainly kept the wolves from her door and helped her form powerful alliances in town. Involuntarily, her mind flitted to remembering how she had brushed her hand across the scruffy face of her husband that first morning they woke up together as husband and wife. Willa nearly cried. She also remembered touching his chestnut scruff right before he left her for Denver.

  “Yes…” she squeaked as Lucy moved to comfort her friend. Suddenly, Mr. Wilson came through the parlor doorway.

  “Oh, good! You haven’t left yet,” he said as he strode over to Willa and enveloped her in a warm embrace. “I was at the post office. I knew you were in town and asked if there was any correspondence for Mrs. Harding.” Mr. Wilson emphasized her new title and grinned as he handed her the letter.

  Willa’s face lit up as she reached for the letter and quickly opened it.

  My Dearest Willa,

  I hope this letter finds you well. Please know that I miss you every hour that I am away from you, my lovely bride.

  The work here has been daunting and not at all what I am used to, nor what I enjoy. I must sit in stuffy meetings all day and listen to self-important men further their agendas. Please don’t misunderstand, there are a few men, like me, who want to act in the people’s best interests. However, just like I saw in the mining camps, if there is a profit to be made, some men think, ‘the people be damned’. On a side note, I am forced to wear this scratchy suit and starched shirt with a high collar. Also, my dress shoes squeeze my toes.

  I am eager to get back home to you and our home and my comfortable clothes. How is Sandy? Is the mare’s pregnancy progressing as it should? I am looking forward to being with you in the spring so that we can be together to watch the foal take its first steps. I hope we get a filly.

  As I am sure that it is your most pressing question, I have checked into when I am able to come home. The session does not end until December 24th, Christmas Eve. I plan to leave immediately after the session closes. Still, barring bad weather, I figure it will take me three days to get back to you since I need to return on horseback. One bright spot I can see is that I will be able to start the New Year with my lovely lass.

  I am sure that you are managing as best you can, and I promise to help you get things back to my standards when I return.

  Denver is like nothing I have ever seen. There are so many beautiful buildings and fine shops. I’d like to bring you a gift, so tell me what you would like. I will happily procure it for you.

  Your loving husband,

  Shamus

  Willa felt lonely, betrayed and furious all at o
nce. She missed Shamus, and she was beside herself that he would marry her and then leave her all alone. She was furious that he would dare to mention his ‘standards’ given the lurch he’d left her in. Not knowing which emotion to feel first, Willa led with fury.

  “Please, may I have a piece of writing paper and an envelope, so I can make my reply?” Willa asked Lucy.

  “Of course,” Lucy said and dashed off to retrieve the paper, and she returned immediately. Willa took the stationery, and Mr. Wilson and Lucy watched as Willa moved to the parlor’s writing table. She dipped the feather pen into the ink well and wrote:

  Send trousers.

  Willa

  She then grabbed the blotter, ran it over the ink, crammed the note into the envelope and sealed it. She turned to Mr. Wilson. “Please, would you be so kind as to send my reply,” she asked sweetly.

  “Of course, Willa,” Mr. Wilson said as he turned to leave.

  “Mr. Harding said he won’t be home in time for Christmas,” Willa stated flatly.

  Mr. Wilson turned back to her and said in a reassuring tone, “Well then, you will celebrate with us.” He turned back and left the room.

  Willa felt the invitation was a terribly small consolation.

  True to Shamus’s prediction, he was not able to make it back to the homestead to spend Christmas with Willa. She reluctantly accepted Mr. Wilson’s invitation to spend the holiday with his family, resisting the urge to stay home to wallow.

  “At least I will be able to visit with Lucy,” Willa said to Sandy as Willa put the finishing touches on a loaf of fresh wheat bread she had just pulled from the oven.

  Sandy scratched her ear with her hind leg and then followed Willa to the far side of the room where Willa stood taking stock of her preserved foods. Selecting a jar of wild raspberry jam, Willa gathered up her contributions for the holiday dinner as well as a few small gifts, grabbed her coat and winter bonnet, and headed out to saddle the mule. Sandy bounded closely behind Willa, leaving little pawprints in the snow.