Diantha

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Diantha Page 13

by Zina Abbott


  “I ain’t stupid, Buck. I didn’t wear no Sunday best. Besides, Ma would’ve whupped me if I did.”

  Buck kept a grin on his face as Hilaina began talking non-stop about her work dress, assuring him she would be a big help, and how she looked forward to spending the day with him. All the while, without a word, he helped Hilaina up on the wagon so she would spread the folded quilt on the bench. He stowed her tow sack in the back along with his ax, one-man crosscut saw, splitting maul, and wedge. Feed for Charley and Mabel he tossed in the box he built and stashed beneath the bench, in case they ended up cutting in a place with little or no grass for graze. He allowed her to put the blanket around his back but, so he could still drive the team, tucked it under his armpit rather than over his shoulder where she first spread it. Hilaina cuddled up next to him and held both ends of the blanket so it covered the top half of her and most of his legs.

  As they started out of the town south towards Angel Hot Springs and land Buck knew did not belong to Mortimer Crane, he began to whistle—not to hush Hilaina up this time, but because he felt content having her beside him. He could care less how much work she managed as far as hauling and stacking firewood in the wagon. He realized feeling her next to him on the ride up and back to town was well worth him letting her come.

  ~o0o~

  Tired, but with a sense of satisfaction, Buck whistled his favorite tune. He tossed his ax in the wagon on top of the wood as they prepared to leave. He admitted to himself that Hilaina had been far more help than he originally thought. As he cut down the trees and then trimmed off the limbs, she hauled any loose brush that was too small to be chopped up for firewood off to the side. She stacked the logs he chopped to be the right size for most wood stoves neatly into the wagon bed—something Buck would not have taken the time to do. Some of the log pieces that were too thick and heavy for her to lift, she stood on end and used his wedge and splitting maul to separate them into smaller pieces she could handle. When noon came, she set out the food for them. She also saw to Charley and Mabel. She hobbled Mabel in a spot with a bit of grass that was close enough they could keep an eye on the pair. Charley, he had told her, she did not need to worry about. He would stay close to Mabel.

  Hilaina walked Mabel towards the wagon so Buck could harness her. Charley followed along. Halfway there, both Mabel and Charley began to snort and sidestep. Annoyed at the sudden lack of cooperation, Buck heard Hilaina begin to alternate between fussing at Mabel and offering her soothing words to coax her into obeying.

  Concerned about what disturbed his livestock, Buck immediately grew quiet. He grabbed his sidearm as he began to look around. He knew wildcats—probably cougars, from how others described the animals to him—roamed the area. Although the season grew late, he realized bears could still be about eating everything they could find to prepare for hibernating through the long winter.

  “Hush now, Hilaina. There’s something out there making these animals skittish.”

  Grateful this time Hilaina minded his warning and immediately stopped talking, Buck stepped backward towards the wagon where he kept his rifle beneath the seat. He hoped Hilaina had not buried it under the firewood.

  As Buck caught movement in his peripheral vision, he turned towards whatever approached them. Two Indians—Buck guessed them to be Utes, based on how they wore their hair and knowing the Ute reservation was not that far away—rode into the clearing where he and Hilaina had been cutting. Buck felt somewhat relieved to see that they were dressed warmly but wore no sign of war paint. Although armed, they did not hold their weapons in a threatening manner. He suspected the pair was hunting.

  Buck turned his head far enough to see Hilaina held Mabel’s halter but had ducked beneath the horse’s chin until she stood next to Buck. Charley had sidled up to Mabel on her other side, whinnying and blowing in protest of the intruders. Deciding to try friendship first, Buck nodded towards the pair. “Speak English?”

  The man in front lifted his chin. “Singing Man make too much noise, hear for miles. Scare game away.”

  “That ain’t no singing. He was whistling.”

  Buck turned to Hilaina. “Hilaina, please, hush, now. I don’t want you drawing no more attention to you than what they already see. Let me handle this.” Buck returned his attention to the man who spoke. “She’s right. I don’t sing. I whistle.” Buck whistled a few bars of a tune. “Whistle. You Ute?”

  “Whistle.” The man tried the English word new to him and nodded. “We search for food, Whistle Man. Whistle and sound of ax no good for hunting. Scare game away.”

  Buck decided to display the better part of wisdom by refraining from pointing out the Utes were off their reservation by quite a far distance and had no business hunting this close to white settlements. He guessed the tribe, pushed onto land that in size was a fraction as big as what they considered their hunting territory up to almost four years earlier, could not find sufficient game on their reservation to feed their people. “Well, we didn’t know no one was hunting. Just getting wood to burn through the winter. We’re leaving now, so it ought to quiet down, and you can get to your hunting.”

  “Manytalks Woman—how much?”

  Caught off guard, Buck immediately spun to his right where a third Ute sat his horse and stared at him as if waiting for an answer. Buck heard Hilaina suck in her breath as she stepped closer to him. The Ute man, older than Buck but not as old as the one who had first spoken, leapt off his horse and reached for a hank of Hilaina’s hair that had escaped her bun while she had been working. Hilaina jerked back her head, but he held on tight as he fingered the strands of her reddish-brown hair.

  “How much?”

  Hilaina slapped at the man’s hands with both of hers and then, grabbing the locks with both her fists, jerked her hair free of his grasp.

  “I ain’t for sale!”

  Buck reached over to push Hilaina behind him as he forced his body between her and the Ute. “She’s not for sale.”

  Full of apprehension, Buck watched the Ute return to his horse for a bundle which he next spread on the ground in front of Buck. He nodded towards Hilaina.

  “How much?”

  Whispering a threat, Hilaina grabbed the back of Buck’s coat. “Buckley John Kramer, don’t you dare sell me to no Indian. I plumb ain’t going to stand for it, you hear me?”

  Buck twisted his neck and spoke to her over his shoulder. “I’m not selling you. Now, hush.” He turned back to the Ute. “This is my woman. You don’t want her. She talks too much sometimes, and the only way to hush her up is to whistle. You whistle?” Buck demonstrated once again by whistling a few notes.

  His stomach still tight as his body prepared to go into action if need be, Buck watched the man who bargained for Hilaina turn to listen to the Ute, still on horseback, who spoke to him in his own language. Buck caught the hint of disappointment in the man’s expression. Whatever was said, Buck hoped that would be the end of the matter, and the trio would let them go. Instead, the man turned his attention to Mabel and grabbed the cheek strap of her bridle.

  “Horse. How much?”

  Buck groaned as Hilaina slipped past him and shoved the brave away from Mabel. “You ain’t getting Mabel. This here horse belongs to Buck. She’s plumb too old to be rode hard and too tough to be good eating. Besides, Charley ain’t going to stand for you…”

  Buck rolled his eyes and reached for the bridle as he sidled himself between Mabel and the Ute. The rough jerking against her mouth caused Mabel to throw her head up and bugle in distress. Charley, who already had been milling in an agitated manner around Mabel, whinnied his protest in mule fashion as he lunged forward and snapped his jaw at the Ute’s arm. The man jerked his forearm back in time so that when Charley clamped down, all he caught with his teeth was the leather and fringe of the Ute’s heavy coat, but he missed the arm itself. He raised his front hooves and lashed out then kicked with his back legs, all the while tossing his head. It was all the Ute could do to stay on his feet
and away from the attack as the mule threatened to tear his hide shirt off of him.

  Hilaina stepped up next to Charley and patted his neck then stroked his withers. “Good boy, Charley. Now, best you let that varmint go.” While she rubbed Charley’s cheek, wearing a scowl, she turned back to the Ute whose eyes now reflected his anger. “You best get your hands off Mabel, or this here mule will stomp you in the ground, and I ain’t of a mind to stop him. Now, you take your goods and get on out of here. I ain’t going to be your woman, and this here horse ain’t going nowhere with you.”

  Hilaina berated the brave, threatening him with imminent injury if he didn’t go away. At the same time, she struggled to calm both Charley and Mabel. Buck tried to make himself heard in an effort to settle Hilaina down. Realizing she was too riled for his words have any effect on her, he started whistling a tune. Although it had worked before, he quickly understood she felt too upset for even his whistling to calm her down. He placed the tips of his pinkie fingers against his lips and blasted out a shrill, ear-splitting whistle.

  Stunned into silence, Hilaina turned to him with her mouth open. “Ain’t you something? I don’t never recollect Pa whistling thataway.”

  “Please hush, Hilaina.” Buck raised his voice. “Now, all of you…” Wearing a frustrated expression, Buck first eyed the Ute who had taken a step back but still remained standing too close to the animals for Buck’s comfort. Next, he turned to the man on horseback to whom he first spoke, the one he guessed was their leader. “I don’t want no trouble from any of you, but the woman is not for sale and the horse is not for sale. I never meant to disturb your hunting; I’m only here for firewood.”

  The man on horseback said something to the brave closest to Buck and Hilaina. The Ute who had been bargaining immediately squatted and gathered up his items he had hoped to use for trade. He secured them to his horse, mounted, and then joined the other two. He glared at Hilaina for the briefest of seconds, and then he turned his head to look off in the distance as if completely disinterested.

  Grateful Hilaina focused her attention on calming his two animals, Buck turned his focus back to the leader of the trio, who gave a flap of his hand as if brushing Buck and Hilaina away.

  “No bring Manytalks Woman again, Whistle Man. Manytalks Woman work good but too many talks. Game run far away. Keep woman home.”

  “I’ll leave her home next time.” Buck nodded and exhaled with a whoosh the breath he did not realize he had been holding. As the three men turned to ride away, he called out to the leader. “Look, I haven’t seen any sign for deer or bear, so I can’t help you that way.” As the men stopped their horses and looked back at him, Buck pointed to the northeast. “If you’re interested in some snow geese, on our drive up, we saw a flock near a marshy section about two miles that way. They aren’t venison, and they may have flown on by now. If not, they make good eating.”

  The leader nodded and turned his horse in the direction of the road Buck and Hilaina would drive the wagon once they hitched up Charley and Mabel. The other two Utes followed. Buck figured, if he and Hilaina traveled slow and easy, the three hunters would take what geese they wanted and be gone by the time the wood-filled wagon reached that point in the road.

  The pair road in silence for some distance as they both concentrated on settling themselves down after the excitement with the Utes. Finally, Hilaina turned to Buck.

  “That Ute man done riled me up to where I about throwed a log at him, what with him accusing me of scaring the game away with my talking. Been so busy splitting and stacking, I ain’t talked much at all. All your sawing and chopping is what made the ruckus.”

  Buck nodded. “That’s the truth, Hilaina. You’ve been quiet—for you.”

  “Buck, tell me you ain’t fixing to leave me home next time.”

  “You bet I am, leastways when it’s only you and me. That red hair of yours is too pretty, Hilaina. I’m not risking some Ute brave catching me unawares and snatching you away to be his wife.”

  .

  .

  .

  .

  Chapter 18

  ~o0o~

  Wildcat Ridge, Utah – October 20, 1884

  S obbing and red-faced, Hilaina rushed into the livery just as Buck returned from hauling and delivering a load of inventory for Tweedie’s Mercantile. She launched her body into his arms and buried her face in his chest, even though he was still in the process of unharnessing Charley. She felt him nearly lose his footing, but he quickly regained it. “Oh, Buck!”

  Hilaina, desperate for comfort, circled his neck with her arms and pressed tighter to Buck as he wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes and absorbed the comfort that came from him holding her tightly with one arm while the other gently stroked her hair.

  “What’s going on, Hilaina? Something happen to your ma?”

  She rubbed her forehead against his work shirt when she shook her head. Then she leaned back and looked him full in the face with tear-filled eyes. “Ma’s well enough, but we’ve plumb got us a passel of trouble. Well, reckon it was me what done it. Mr. Crane come by the house today. He told Ma he’s up and moving the cabin to Cranesville. Done told us we got to get our belongings out, or he’ll either take everything with him or toss them in the burn pile. Says he ain’t renting nothing else to us neither, because Ma ain’t married no more.” A fresh onslaught of tears poured from her eyes. “What can we do, Buck? Winter’s coming on right quick, and we got no place to go.”

  Biting her lip, Hilaina watched as, with a disgusted expression, Buck shook his head.

  “We’ll think of something, Hilaina. I’ve put a little nest egg by, but it’s not enough to buy us land for a new house. Let me get Mabel and Charley took care of, and we’ll go talk to your ma.”

  Hilaina immediately felt better now she had shared her troubles with Buck. For one thing, once he said “us” when he talked of buying property for a new house, she felt renewed hope that he intended to marry her someday. Either way, he was ready and willing to help her and her ma figure out what to do so they wouldn’t be cast out in the snow in ten days.

  Hilaina sniffed back her tears and released Buck. “I’ll fetch their feed.”

  Once Mabel and Charley were fed and bedded down, Buck wrapped his arm around Hilaina’s shivering shoulders which were covered with only a heavy wool shawl. Their quick steps brought them to the well-lit cabin that appeared as a beacon in a row of miner’s cabins, most of them vacant and dark. They stepped inside to see Elmira’s back as she stirred something in a pot on the stove. She glanced at the pair then turned back to her cooking.

  “Hilaina, get them bowls out. Bread’s sliced. Soup’s ready.”

  “Yes, Ma.”

  “Sit, Buck. Best we think on a full stomach.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Name’s Elmira.”

  Once they all sat at the table, Elmira turned to her daughter. “Soup’s too hot to eat just yet. You do the praying, Hilaina.”

  Buck noticed Hilaina kept her prayer short—for her. To him, it was another sign of just how upset she felt. He turned to Elmira with a grin. “Mighty good soup, Elmira. Appreciate the supper.”

  “Hilaina done the bread. Fixed us a right fine spice cake, too, using them fancy spices you brung us. Ain’t got no cream to whup up for the top. Ain’t got no cow, only pigs and chickens. Done a burnt sugar topping.”

  “That spice cake will taste right fine all by itself.” Buck leaned back and studied the room. “Now, what’s this about Mr. Crane wanting this house when there’s all these other places already empty? He can move them any time he wants to, so something don’t make sense to me.”

  Elmira turn to her daughter. “You told him about the time you went after that polecat with the stick of firewood?”

  Buck raised an eyebrow and looked between the two women. “Didn’t hear nothing about Hilaina tangling with some wild cat.”

  “Wasn’t no cat. Happened afore you come here, Buck.”
As Hilaina told the story of the time Mortimer confronted Diantha about her not putting her money in his bank, and how Hilaina threatened to beat him with a stick of firewood when the miscreant threatened Diantha and tried to grab her, Buck sat back and nodded in understanding. Hilaina finished her tale. “Diantha done warned me he might take revenge.”

  Buck looked around and studied the interior once more. “Could also be he wants this cabin because it’s bigger than most of them.” At the sound of Elmira’s snort of disgust, he turned his head to face her.

  “That there varmint is always wanting what ain’t his. These here rooms don’t belong to him. Hilaina’s pa wasn’t one to drink up his pay like them other men at the mine. He built them two rooms hisself, done bought and paid for with his own money. Same with this here cook stove and the blue enamel dishes. Mr. Crane done took him away from us by not building them supports in the mines right. Reckon he figures on stealing the rest of what we got left from us, too.”

  Buck leaned forward and slapped his hand on the table. “Well, we’re not going to let him take what’s yours. He wants this cabin, he’ll get it the way it was when you first came here. Whatever you and your husband bought, we’ll move it somewhere else and make it part of your new home.”

  “How you figure on doing that? Rich in pigs, but ain’t got no poke of cash.”

  “I’ll throw in, too. I need a warmer roof over my head than where I’m sleeping in the livery.”

  In awe, Hilaina stared at the look of determination on Buck’s face.

  “You can do that, Buck? Take these here rooms apart and build them back together somewhere’s else?”

  “You bet I can. I just need to find a place to build it. I got a pretty good idea where I’m going to look first.”

 

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