“You’re embarrassing your wife. Go off and stable your horse, I’ll take her upstairs. Tom,” Dolly called out and a tall man who had run to fat appeared and picked up her carpet bag. “This is my husband,” Dolly said.
“Pleased to meet you, um.”
“Tom will do, Miss.”
“It’s Mrs. Her and Arnie just got hitched,” Dolly said.
His shocked expression would have been comical at any other time. “Um, congratulations.”
Hannah was starting to feel decidedly nervous now. It was obvious Arnie wanted to consummate their marriage. She didn’t know what to expect. What she had to do to please her new husband.
She followed Tom upstairs to a room overlooking the backyard. Trees grew along the fence line, and neatly weeded garden beds were full of pretty flowers.
The room was spacious with white lace curtains on the windows, the large double bed was covered by a deep blue quilt. An oak dresser contained a white and blue jug with a matching basin.
“There’s cold water in the jug, but I can bring up hot water from the kitchen.”
“Thank you, the cold water will be all right, I only need to wash my face and hands.”
As soon as Tom left she took off her bonnet then retrieved her hair brush. After washing her face and hands, she brushed her hair and arranged it so the birthmark was completely covered. Thankfully, she didn’t have to venture outside without her bonnet for protection, a gust of wind could lift her hair up and reveal her shame.
She rarely looked into a mirror, didn’t want to be reminded of her ugliness. Arnie had said she was pretty, but he was only being kind. No point dallying up here for too long. Dusk was falling now, the light fading fast.
“Stop dithering,” she muttered. On the one hand she was nervous about what would happen up here later. On the other hand, she wanted their marriage to be consummated. There could be no annulment then. She would be safe, even if Arnie saw, and was repelled by her disfigurement.
Patting her hair into place, she glanced in the mirror to make sure her hair sat well. Her hair was quite thick and slightly wavy. She would never forget the tight braids Aunt Edna had forced on her as a child. As she grew older she had to wear a long plait, which was wound around the back of her head and pinned into place so the purple patch was clearly visible.
She dared not defy her aunt, even as a grown up, because she would be cast out and left to fend for herself on the streets of Deadwood. “While you live under my roof, you will display your shame for all to see.”
Needless to say, she only ventured out when she had to. What would make a woman so cruel and embittered?
Chapter 3
Hannah brushed the worst of the creases out of her gown, making sure her hair was in place before she ventured out of the bedroom.
Arnie stood at the foot of the stairs waiting for her. He was staring straight at her and she raised her hand. When he didn’t return the greeting she realized she was too far away for him to recognize her. Once she was halfway down the stairs, he raised his hand in greeting.
“I was beginning to worry you might have run off and left me,” he said jokingly.
“I wouldn’t do such a thing.”
He stepped forward to take her hand as she reached the bottom two steps. “Are you refreshed, my dear?”
She slipped her arm through his. “Yes, thank you.”
A girl wearing a white apron over a black gown showed them to a table set for two in the corner of the dining room. Arnie pulled out a chair and made sure Hannah was comfortably seated before sitting down himself.
“They do a good beef steak,” he said. “That’s what I’m having. “You order whatever you like.”
She was too nervous to try anything different. “I’ll have the steak as well.”
“Apple pie for dessert,” he suggested. “Coffee?”
“Thank you, I have cream and one sugar; the apple pie sounds perfect.”
He put in their order to the hovering waitress. “Oh, we’ll have two glasses of champagne to toast our marriage.”
Hannah had never tasted any kind of alcohol in her life because it was another of Aunt Edna’s mortal sins. I’m a married woman now and the old dragon is dead, so I can do as I please. Well, as much as Arnie would let her, but he seemed easy going.
The waitress returned within a short time with two glasses of sparkling, bubbly liquid.
“To us, my dear.” Arnie clicked his glass against hers. “May we have a happy life together.”
The bubbles tickled her nose, but she liked the taste of the champagne. By the almost reverent way the waitress had carried it over, Hannah surmised it would be expensive.
The steaks when they arrived were still sizzling and the various vegetables looked appetizing.
“You try this steak, then tell me if it isn’t the best you’ve ever tasted?”
After a mouthful, she knew Arnie hadn’t been exaggerating. It practically melted in her mouth. “It’s so tender and full of flavor.”
“I told you, didn’t I?”
“You did, thank you.” She touched his hand. “This is the nicest meal I’ve ever had.”
“You haven’t tried the apple pie yet.” He smiled. “I want you to be happy, Hannah. I never thought I’d ever remarry.”
She listened without interruption as he told her about his first wife being killed coming out here, when their wagon train had been attacked by Indians.
“It must have been awful. I’m so sorry.”
“It was. I was bitter for years about it, but it was a long time ago, and as the years passed it became easier to bear.”
“Why didn’t you marry again?”
“I thought about it, not that I came across many marriageable women, besides I had a ranch to build up. I wouldn’t have worried about getting married now, except with my failing vision I need someone to look after me.” He stared her straight in the eye. “Grant, my foreman, is a good friend, he’s young enough to eventually take a wife himself. Then where would I be?”
She picked up his hand and held it.
“I have to be honest, Hannah, I fear being on my own if my sight completely goes.”
“You can trust me to always look after you, Arnie. I swear it.”
They dined at a leisurely pace. The apple pie was as delicious as he said it would be.
“Dolly is a great cook.”
“Oh, I thought she would employ someone to do it for her.”
“Not Dolly, this place is her pride and joy. She really loves cooking. I don’t think she would trust anyone else in her kitchen. What about you, Hannah, you haven’t told me anything about your life, but I’m thinking it wasn’t a happy one.”
“No, it wasn’t. My mother died when I was a child so I had to live with an elderly spinster aunt who didn’t really want me. She felt it her Christian duty to feed, clothe and educate me.”
“No affection?”
“No. She owned a diner in Deadwood. At least I was able to earn my keep by working there.”
“You did the cooking?”
“Sometimes.” It wasn’t a complete lie, occasionally she did help with the cooking, but it sounded better than admitting Aunt Edna didn’t think her fit to do anything except scrubbing and cleaning.
After they had finished their coffee, Arnie stifled a yawn. “Time for bed. I want an early start in the morning. We’ll have breakfast here then head to the ranch.”
He stood and helped her rise. When they got to the foot of the stairs he said. “You go on ahead, I need to see Tom, and it will give you privacy to prepare for bed.”
She nodded. She was beginning to like Arnie more and more. He was kind, polite and considerate. Hurrying up to their room, she turned down the lamp that had already been lit. Changing into her nightgown, she climbed into bed to await her husband.
Next morning Hannah and Arnie shared breakfast before he left to collect the horse and buckboard for the journey to his ranch. She was now Mrs. Arnold French in every sens
e of the word.
Consummating their marriage wasn’t the disgraceful act Aunt Edna had said it would be when a man defiled a woman by having his way with her. Arnie had been considerate and kind, trying not to hurt her too much when he took her virginity.
“It will be better next time,” he had promised. And it was.
They set off in the buckboard after eating a breakfast of eggs, bacon, fried potatoes and coffee. Arnie was anxious to get back to the ranch, she was excited to be going to her new home.
Hannah glanced around with interest as they traveled along. The distant hills shimmered in the morning sun and the air was fresh and clean. She inhaled deeply. For the first time ever she had something to look forward to. Over and over she thanked God for delivering her to Arnie. He might be old, but he was kind and for her that was enough.
Arnie’s ranch was eleven miles out of Liston. The further they got from town the more thickly treed it became. They passed through a narrow valley with trees lining either side. A sharp turn brought them out to what looked like a vast plain dotted with cattle. She didn’t see any signs of human habitation except smoke, trailing skyward like a giant grey ribbon, in a couple of places,
“There aren’t many people living around here. Their ranch houses are usually built behind the trees for protection against the strong winter winds.”
“It looks pretty.”
“I like it, so does Grant. We aren’t too isolated, it just appears that way.”
She nodded.
“Did you always live in Deadwood?”
“Yes, well it’s the only place I can remember living in. It was so awful there I’d like to forget about it.”
“I’m sorry you had such a harsh life, from now on I hope there will only be happiness.” He squeezed her fingers.
“I’ll never be able to repay you, Arnie.”
“Yes, you will. Once my eyesight goes completely, you’ll have a blind invalid to look after. It’s a lot I’m asking from you when you’re so young.” He sighed.
“I’ll be pleased to help as much as you need me to. I promise I’ll never leave you to fend for yourself. I’ll be your eyes. Have no worries that I’ll run off if things get tough, because I won’t.” She hoped he heard the sincerity in her voice. She would never desert him.
The timber ranch house was larger than she thought it would be. It was T-shaped, a long porch covered the front, which was probably the bedrooms she surmised. The other section looked like it might be the kitchen and eating area.
A barn and corral were a couple of hundred yards away, and a little further on was a large log cabin, which was probably the bunkhouse. A couple of scraggy lavender bushes were the only flowers in the garden.
“Do you have many people working here?”
“Besides me and Grant, and by the way, he lives in the ranch house, there’s Curly, Joe and a lad named Pancho. This isn’t a large ranch so when I need extra hands there are always cowboys following the grub line.”
“Grub line?”
“Yeah, moving from ranch to ranch in the quiet times. Some of them will work for food and somewhere to sleep. I always pay them some kind of wage, but many ranchers don’t.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
“It is how a lot of ranchers run their spreads.”
Arnie helped her down from the buckboard and she waited on the porch for him to collect her bag.
“Welcome to my humble abode, my dear.”
“It doesn’t look too humble to me.”
“Grant built the back section for cooking and eating with a little help from me. Prior to that the kitchen was separate.”
He opened the unlocked front door and ushered her in. As they entered a spacious sitting room. Hannah glanced around with interest. There were four black cowhide armchairs, two in front of the large stone fireplace and two at the side. The calico curtain was faded and frayed at the ends.
“The place needs a woman’s touch,” he said, looking a little shamefaced. “Once you’re settled in we’ll go into town and you can buy furnishing to brighten it up.”
The place wasn’t dirty, just dusty and untidy. “What about the kitchen, I’m really interested in that.”
He grinned. “I’ll leave you to explore while I see to the horse and milk our house cow. I don’t suppose you know how to milk?”
“No, sorry.”
“There’s plenty of logs and kindling in the wood box in the kitchen if you’d like to get the stove going.”
“I can do that.” She smiled. “Shall I cook us something?”
“Yes please. There’s a storage loft in the kitchen where you’ll find dried meat, vegetables and other supplies. Help yourself to anything you need.”
After he strode off she removed her bonnet and patted her hair into place. She could be happy here, and make life easier for Arnie. He was a good man and she would have a comfortable marriage. No real passion, not like in the romance book a customer had left in the diner. The author had written about breathlessness, heart palpitations, butterflies in the stomach. She didn’t need a passionate love, she would be satisfied with what Arnie could give her.
The walls and floors of the house were pine, stained to a deep honey color. The kitchen had a good sized stove and there was a large dresser with fancy colored glass doors. A ladder gave easy access to the open loft. From where she was standing it looked to be well stocked. She walked out on to the back porch. If there were chickens it meant plenty of fresh eggs.
Arnie had mentioned about them only eating simple food, but with plenty of ingredients she could easily cook him tasty wholesome meals.
She suddenly wondered what Grant would be like, younger than Arnie, probably in his early forties.
In the main bedroom Arnie had left her carpet bag on the large double bed. It was covered by a multi-colored patchwork quilt, which had seen better days. Thankfully, she was a competent needlewoman.
Arnie had mentioned they could go into town so she could buy materials for clothes and new curtains. A pretty tablecloth or two and she could make this house into a comfortable home for them.
There was a small bedroom on one side of the room she and Arnie would share, on the other side, a room with the door closed was probably Grant’s. She was tempted to take a peek, but forced herself not to invade his privacy.
As Hannah lay in bed next to Arnie that night he snored softly, completely content after claiming his marital rights. Fear suddenly shot through her. He wasn’t a well man, apart from his failing sight. If he became an invalid she would care for him without complaint like a dutiful wife. Her biggest fear was if he passed away, what would happen to her then? She inwardly scolded herself for being so melodramatic.
He hadn’t said anything about her keeping the lamp turned down low in the bedroom when she sat down to brush her hair. He had been gentlemanly enough not to enter the room until she had changed into her nightgown, although he had no compunction about stripping to his drawers in front of her.
She punched the pillow with a clenched fist. It was a soft bed, very comfortable, so why couldn’t she sleep? Maybe it was too quiet, the only sounds she could hear were the soft, distant lowing of cattle and the occasional call of a night bird.
Chapter 4
Grant woke up with a start. Was that a shot? He shoved his blanket aside and stood. There was a chill in the air as he stepped over to the fire. It had burned down to a bed of glowing ashes. He threw on a log of wood. Curly was snoring away, the man was oblivious to anything once he fell asleep.
It would soon be time to relieve Pancho and Joe and the couple of cowboys who had approached him on the trail for a job. He poured some barely warm coffee into a mug and pulled a piece of beef jerky out of his pocked and started chewing it.
The stars shone brightly from the night sky. It was just before dawn. How did that saying go? It was always darkest before the dawn. He gave a chuckle as he stared into the fire. He had been away for weeks and was looking forward to
getting back to the ranch and Arnie.
He didn’t like leaving his old friend on his own, but this opportunity had been too good to miss out on. Arnie would have received his telegram explaining the reason for their delay, so he wouldn’t be worrying.
They had driven seventy horses to Fort Angus and sold them to the army. As they were preparing to leave he had overheard a couple of men talking about a clearing sale. Prime beef, they had said. He had butted into the conversation and found out where this ranch was and they had left immediately. They had been able to buy nearly four hundred head of cattle.
He felt something hard smash into the back of his head, followed by shooting stars. He just managed to roll to one side to stop from falling face first into the fire. “Sonofabitch.” Another blow was followed by blackness.
Grant awoke to find the sun blazing into his face and the worst headache he ever remembered having. Trying to stand caused his head to spin so badly he flopped back on the ground.
It was strangely silent, the fire was just a bed of grey ash now. Carefully, using his hands, he rolled over and got to his knees. The ground tilted as he crawled over to a tree and used it to pull himself up.
Where were the cattle? “Curly, you lazy….” Curly wasn’t moving under his blanket, not snoring, either. Gingerly he stepped over to him. The ground wasn’t spinning so much, and the black spots previously dancing before his eyes had gone.
Using the toe of his boot, he nudged his friend. No response. Groaning with pain he bent down and whipped the blanket off. Curly was dead, a bullet between the eyes.
As his senses returned he realized the cattle were gone. He stumbled forward and behind a large bolder was shocked to discover Joe and Pancho sprawled out on the ground – dead. Their sightless eyes staring skyward.
Tears, as well as pain blurred his vision, yet he was able to lean down and close their eyes. No sign of the other men. They had disappeared along with the cattle and all the horses. How in tarnation had they been able to get the drop on him and the others? It wasn’t as if they were newcomers to the West.
Promise Forever: Fairy Tales with a Modern Twist Page 29