Maggie's Valley (Strong Hearts, Open Spirits Book 1)

by Danni Roan

“I’m sure those boys were just blowing off a little steam. This time of year fellas seem to get a little restless. Don’t you worry you’re pretty little head about it. I’m sure we’ll have no more of that nonsense while you’re in town. I do hope you will stay a little longer this time.” His smile returned again and although Maggie felt uncomfortable with the way the man was looking at her and his obvious over confidence, she was grateful that he had stopped the miss treatment of the farmer.

  “Well, I hadn’t planned on being her very long, there is always a great deal of work to be done of course, but it is lovely to have a little break. Thank you again for putting a stop to that.” For some reason she didn’t know what else to say.

  “Anything to make you happy ma’am. Now why don’t we go and have a cup of coffee and maybe a piece of pie. The hotel has started selling pie now you know?” With that he offered his arm, and without even thinking Maggie took it and walked back into the hotel.

  “Oh, well, thank you.” She stammered, trying to put her thoughts straight in her head.

  Chaz, who had been standing behind Maggie the whole time stated flatly, “I’ll be goin’ on up to bed then now.” as he turned toward the stairs

  Mr. Vane escorted her to a small table in the corner as an older woman in an apron scurried over to take their order. Without even asking he ordered two slices of apple pie and coffee.

  “Apple’s my favorite.” He said in way of explanation. “Now how have you been keeping? You are looking well.” He said with a grin as his eyes slid over here slender, but well rounded form. “I hope you haven’t been working yourself to hard. I know the life of a famer can be terribly hard and I hope you’re not being treated hard. I couldn’t stand the thought of that, why, I’d have to ride out and do away with any man who would mistreat a woman like you.” He added with a smile, but for some reason Maggie shivered.

  On the other hand, she thought back to the kindness he had shown the farmer and decided it was high time she gave the man the benefit of the doubt.

  “I’m not working too hard. Mr. Vane. I love what I’m doing, I love seeing things grown and know that I can put the very food, I’ve grown with my own hands, on my table. It’s a privilege to work by the sweat of my brow and grow things in this beautiful world God has given us.”

  For a moment the big man just blinked and then smiled again. “Well I’m glad to hear that you aren’t over doing it. Why my own dear mother never worked a day after dad got the ranch up and running and a pretty woman like yourself shouldn’t have to either. Where did you say your place was? I wouldn’t want any of those ruffians you saw tonight harassing you.”

  “I’m far enough away that I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” Was the only answer Maggie was willing to give.

  At the moment the server returned with the pie and coffee and the conversation turned to more benign topics such as the weather and when the first snows would come. Mr. Vane, kept interjecting how his spread was so big and that it was full time work for his hands even when the snows were thick. He could see letting his stock be lost in a storm when he could easily afford the hands to keep them safe. Although the conversation was light and Mr. Vane was polite and gentlemanly throughout, his constant bragging about his place began wearing on Maggie’s nerves.

  Down the street four cow punchers sidled up to the bar, still looking bemused. “How come, you reckon the boss called us off that mud hopper?” One with a crescent shaped scar just below his left eye, asked.

  “I been thinking on that, another cow poke.” Said, easing his pistol in the holster tied low on his hip. “I figure maybe he’s got his eye on that woman that was there stickin’ her nose in our business an’ didn’t want her to think he’d put us up to it.”

  Another man, his greasy dark blonde hair flopping over his forehead, scratched behind an ear then turned to look at the other men. “Well how in the hell’s he gonna keep her from findin’ out we’re set to drive them filthy dirt farmers out o’ here so we can take over more land for the herd? It ain’t like ever’one don’t know he’s got the biggest spread around and he wants that free range.”

  “Don’t know.” The first hand replied, “But I guess we’ll stay out o’ sight till he tells us otherwise. Maybe he gets hiself hitched he’ll lighten up a bit.”

  After nearly an hour of inconsequential talk, over coffee, Mr. Vane looked across the table at Maggie and grinned.

  “Now Ms. Maggie, I hope you’ll forgive me for being so bold but I figure if your husband was around at all he’d never leave you to come to town with just that boy to keep an eye on you. I don’t mean to bring up any sorrow at all but I think you’re pretty much on your own here now and I just want you to know that I’d like nothing better than to take you home with me and set you up to live like a queen.”

  He smiled again. “You might like playing at farmer now but it’s a hard life and it isn’t going to get any easier around here as things stand. Why would you want to do all that hard work when you could be a kept woman? I’m not getting any younger and I figure it’s about time I get a wife, and you’re the prettiest woman I’ve seen in these parts. So what do you say?”

  For a long moment Maggie was too dumbfounded to speak. This man, practically a stranger was asking her to just marry him. She just stared at him across the table from her. Finally, her mind snapped back and she replied. “Mr. Vane, I’m truly honored that you would think of me in that way, but I am not at all interested in marrying again at this time. I’m happy as I am for right now, and besides I hardly even know you. I’m sorry but I’m just not interested.” For a moment Maggie thought she saw a dark shadow flicker across the man’s eyes, but then he smiled that big white smile and stood to leave.

  “I suppose you’re right about not knowing me yet, but I’ll do my best to change that. I’ll see you here for breakfast tomorrow.” And with that he swept up her hand, pressing it to his lips before walking away.

  Once more Maggie bristled at the way he just assumed she would do what he expected and so instead of stopping to tell him she was leaving first thing in the morning she simple got up and went to her room.

  No sooner had Maggie closed the door to her room than she heard a low knock on it and turned to open it. Chaz stood there looking at her worriedly. “You alright Miss Maggie?” He asked as she had him come into her room. “That fella, sure turns up at the most unexpected times don’t he? I hope he wasn’t botherin’ you none, or I could a stayed there with you.”

  “I’m fine Chaz, but Mr. Vane does seem to find a way to get under my skin every time I meet him. I don’t know just what it is but it doesn’t matter as we’re leaving first thing in the morning anyway and by the time we come out of our valley in the spring I’m sure he’ll have moved on to other things. Now get some sleep we have a long trek ahead of us again tomorrow.”

  It was still dark when Chaz and Maggie rose and headed to the stables to get their animals and gear. Once again the cook at the hotel provided biscuits and this time added some sandwiches to the bundle she personally handed to Maggie. There was as soft skiff of snow on the empty street as they began making their way out of town.

  The horses, well rested after their time in the stable, were feeling frisky in the brisk air and even Clara, pranced a few steps across the frozen ground. Taking advantage of the animal’s energy, Maggie pushed them toward home at a brisk trot. They ate their biscuits in the saddle even if Maggie did have to share them with Sampson who nosed up to her as soon as she got them out and made good time keeping up a steady pace.

  They saw a few people headed to town but for the most part the farms and ranches seemed almost too quiet, as if everyone had drawn in on themselves and was just waiting to see what would come. By mid-afternoon they were turning off the main trail and moving behind a clump of trees they ate their sandwiches, dipping water from a fast bubbling stream nearby. As they were just getting ready to mount up, snow started to fall from a leaden sky; huge soft white flakes drifted silently
down sticking to their hats and faces. They were glad they had wasted no time heading home and as the snow came thicker and faster they knew they would have to keep up a good pace if the hoped to make it to the valley before a real storm set in.

  It was still light when they came to the break in the rock face and dismounted. Very little snow had been able to sift down into the pass because the walls were so high and narrow, but Maggie and Chaz both knew it wouldn’t be long until the whole thing was fully closed by blowing drifts. Carefully they led the animals down the sloping path and into the valley below. Once again in the clear they mounted up and pushed the horses, who seemed just as eager to be home as they were, into a fast canter.

  The snow fell all through the night, covering everything in a fresh clean coat of white. Maggie rose and dressing warmly went out to the kitchen to stoke up the fire and start breakfast. She was pleased to see that Chaz had started a fire in the big fire place as well and the snug cabin was fairly warm already.

  As Maggie cooked breakfast and Chaz milked the goat, miles away and indignant Donavan Vane raged at the cow puncher standing before him.

  “What the hell do you mean you lost the trail? What in the blazes am I paying you for if you can’t even track on woman and a skinny boy across this country?” His loud voice was studiously being ignored by the other hands in the crew as they began getting ready to head out on the range. The unfortunate cowboy could do no such thing.

  “I’m real sorry Mr. Vane, I tracked ‘em just like you said, but as they got into the mountains and the snow was flyin’ hard, I just plumb lost their trail. It’s like they just disappeared and…” the man didn’t even have time to raise an arm to defend himself as his boss’s fist connected with his jaw, knocking him sprawling in the dust of the barn.

  “You’re fired!” He raged. “Get back on that pony and get out! And if I see you anywhere near Sawbrush again you’ll get a lot worse than that.” Then he stormed away, taking only his few cronies with him, all of whom, if you looked closely, wore their pistols slung low on their hip.

  Chapter 8

  Snow fell for most of the next three days, blanketing Maggie’s valley in its new winter robes. But when it stopped and the sun shone in a dazzling blue sky the whole landscaped sparkled like diamonds. The snow was only a few feet deep so they turned the horses out to forage for themselves and laughed as even Sampson, frisked through the unbroken snow, kicking up his heels and tossing his head.

  With the cold weather Maggie and Chaz turned their attention to more repairs around the house and barn. They added more chinking between the logs of the cabin during the warmer afternoons, and patched any holes in the siding of the barn to keep the wind from blowing through.

  Chaz went hunting again and brought home a big buck that would keep well in the cold weather and they soon settled into a winter routine. Maggie cooked and cleaned then turned her attention to making some new clothes with the fabric she had purchased in Sawbrush. She even started piecing together a new warm quilt for Chaz as a Christmas present. As the winter went on, the animals stayed close to home, and in the evening after supper she began teaching Chaz his letters using her Bible and some small books she’d been able to find at the general store, while Moxi and Mawl kept them company.

  It was mid-November when the first real blizzard blew in and Maggie was thankful they had prepared well. That night they made sure all of the animals where snug in the barn before pulling the shutters closed on the cabin against the driving wind and Chaz strung a line between the barn and the cabin just in case it got too bad and he needed to find his way in the blowing snow.

  That night they ate a thick venison stew with fresh bread and drank hot coffee to ward off the thoughts of the frigid weather outside. Chaz went out to check on the stock and found them contentedly munching hay while the wind blew snow in swirling patterns around the barn.

  “That sure is a good barn out there miss Maggie.” He said as he came in stomping the snow off of his boots. “Them critters knows it too.” He then went to the fire and added a few more logs to keep it going before settling down to study. Moxi climbed up on his lap as he worked at sounding out words from one of the readers, while Maggie worked on a new divided riding skirt by the fire with Mawl on her lap.

  The quiet hours ticked by as the wind whistled and banged at the shutters, trying to come in. Chaz was just turning the lamp down and putting away his books when something crashed against the front door. Looking at Maggie’s alarmed face, he quickly snatched up the rifle as she moved to open the door.

  Maggie lifted the heavy latch on the door, and the wind tried to blow it out of her hands, as heavy snow swirled across the front porch and into the house. At first she could see nothing through the blowing snow, then as she moved forward a little more she saw a large dark form sprawled almost at her threshold.

  “Good Lord!” She exclaimed as she knelt to see if the man at her feet was dead or alive. Chaz sat down the rifle and together they reached down and dragged the stranger into the cabin and over to the little cot by the fire.

  “I’d better check and see if he has a horse out there.” Chaz said turning the lantern back up and lifting it as he put on his coat. “It ain’t a fit night for man nor beast, it ain’t tonight.” And with that he stepped out into the blowing storm.

  He could recognize the outline of a horse only by its slightly darker silhouette among the driving snow. The animal stood where its reins had dropped, head bowed against the howling wind, tail pressed tight to its rump against the cold. Ice hung from its whiskers, as soft white puffs of steam escaped its nostrils.

  “Come on then boy.” Chaz said, taking up the reins and leading the animal to the rope that connected the house to the barn and walked quickly toward the shelter. Wrenching the barn door open against the wind he led the animal into the building and hung the lamp on a hook from one of the beams. Their own stock nickered softly at his presence and lifted their heads to examine the new comer.

  The light from the lamp was enough for Chaz to unsaddle the lanky gray horse but as he pulled the saddle off he found his hand coming away damp and sticky. Holding his hand toward the light he saw that it was covered with blood. Quickly he checked the animal over but could find no injury to it. So he carefully bedded the animal into an empty stall, tossed it some hay, and headed back to the house.

  Maggie’s first thought was to get the man warm. She had no idea how long he had been out there in the cold but she knew even an hour exposed in that weather could be deadly. She dumped as many blankets on him as she could find then she pulled his boots off and checked his toes. There was no sign of frost bite.

  “Thank heaven.” She sighed, then pulling the blankets up over his legs she turned to look at his hands, it was then that she saw the blood. His left hand was covered in it and as she looked more closely, she could see where it had been seeping through his heavy wool coat. Carefully she peeled first his coat and then his shirt off of him, to expose a nasty hole low down along his side, just above his right hip bone.

  Never having seen one before, Maggie couldn’t be sure but she was pretty sure it was a bullet wound. As she stood trying to think of what to do. Chaz stepped in, the wind grabbing the door from his hand and making it bang against the inside wall with a crash. Maggie squealed and the stranger stirred, his hand moving toward his gun then stilled.

  “Maggie!” Chaz yelled excitedly as he forced the door closed on the blustery night. “There was a whole lot a’ blood in the saddle. I don’t know who he is but…” Maggie raised her hand to stop him.

  “It looks like he’s been shot Chaz. I don’t know who he is or how he came to be here but we’re to help our fellow man no matter what so we have to just think of what to do and do our best. I’m going to get some water boiling and see what I can do for him. He doesn’t look too good though.”

  With that she turned to the stove and stoked the fire filling a deep pot with water and putting it on to boil. Chaz moved up next to the
stranger and whistled at the injury, which was weeping blood from when his shirt, which had stuck to the wound, had been removed.

  “He sure don’t look good Miss Maggie.” Chaz agreed. Moxi and Mawl, had retreated to their favorite place on top of the cupboard by the door to watch the whole thing, but hissed at Chaz’s comment as if to agree.

  Once the water was boiling Maggie carried the pot and an old sheet to where the man lay. She then began bathing the wound as best she could, gently turning the man with Chaz’s help so she could clean the smaller wound at the back where the bullet had either entered or exited. She wasn’t sure but she was sure it was a mess. Once the area was cleaned she made a pad out of strips of folded sheet then together she and Chaz wrapped binding strips around the man’s middle to hold them in place. She was pleased to see that no blood was seeping through as they gently laid him down on the bed again and covered him with warm blankets.

  “I’ll watch him for a bit Miss Maggie.” Chas volunteered “You go and get some sleep.”

  “I don’t think I could sleep a wink just yet Chaz.” She replied. “I think we should pray for him and then I’ll read a bit.” She held out her hand to the young man who bowed his head with her then lifted her voice to God.

  “Dear Father, I don’t know why you brought this man to our door but I thank you that he is alive and that we could do something to help him. I pray that if it’s Your will that he live that he will get better and that you will give us the wisdom to know how to help him. Amen.”

  For a long moment they stood there looking down at the stranger in Chaz’s cot, then Maggie walked to the kitchen table, turned up the light and picked up her Bible. She was tired, a nearly silent day had been violently interrupted and she felt weary and worried for the stranger who now rested in her home. Where had he come from? How had he been shot? What kind of man could he possibly be to be all alone here in the mountains at this time of year? All of these questions raced through her mind and she needed some answers, some peace.