Rush

by Jayme Mansfield

  “May I come in?”

  “I suppose so.” A chill passed over me as I stepped aside.

  He placed his hat on the side table and followed me into the kitchen.

  “Would you like some dessert?” I asked. “Mother’s famous apple pie.”

  “She makes the best pie in town. I’ve enjoyed a few slices over the last few weeks.”

  “Really? She invited you over for pie?” What could Mother be thinking?

  “You could say I took it upon myself to stop by to see if she had any word about you.”

  “As you can see, I’m fine. A landowner as well,” I said proudly.

  “You are fine, without a doubt.” He stepped closer. “You are even more stunning than when you left, if that’s possible.”

  I avoided his stare and drove the knife into the pie, placing a slice on each plate. “Let’s take dessert to the others at the table.”

  He rested his hand on mine. “You need to know how much I thought of you. Each day I wondered if you were all right. Every evening my dreams were about you.”

  My mouth opened, but words didn’t come.

  “You don’t have to say anything. You’ve been through a lot, I’m sure.”

  As he ran his fingers along the top of my hand, a cold shiver ran down my back.

  “I want to hear all about it, especially when we have a chance to be alone.” He carried the plates into the dining room.

  An exasperated sigh escaped as my body leaned against the counter. I need to get away from here as soon as possible. This man was nothing but a bushel of trouble.

  “Sheriff Murphy!” Wesley’s voice rang out from the other room. “Did you come to take me shooting again?”

  And get my son away too.

  *****

  Even after catching up on some much-needed sleep on the train, I pretended to be exhausted. “My apologies for yawning.” I pushed away from the table. “Sheriff—”

  “Mary, please call me David. We know each other too well for formalities.”

  Mother looked at me with an odd expression.

  “All right then … David. You’ll need to excuse me. My eyes will not stay open another minute. And you, young man …” I tousled Wesley’s hair, “it’s bedtime for you as well.”

  David folded his napkin. “Louisa, your pie was especially delicious tonight. Perhaps it was the company and good conversation.” He stood and patted his stomach. “Mary, I’m sure there’s more about your adventure you’ll want to tell me after you’ve had a chance to rest.”

  Again, I had reservations about how much to share with this man. The logistics of my travels with the Contolinis, the long wait to register for the Rush, even the excitement of the race and pounding my stake into the ground, seemed like safe topics. Past those, he would not step further into the other life I had been living for such a short time.

  “Mama’s gonna have her picture in the newspaper.” Wesley bounced up on his knees.

  “Is that right?” David turned his full attention to me. “Now, that’s a picture worth seeing.”

  My cheeks warmed, but not from flattery. “Wesley, don’t go starting rumors. Plenty of people had their photographs taken at such an important event.”

  “Not someone that looks like you.” David’s lecherous smile sickened me. “Which paper was it?”

  All three of them stared at me. “I … I don’t recall.”

  Mother slightly cocked her head, an indication she knew I was fibbing.

  *****

  After Wesley was sent to bed for the third time, he finally fell asleep. Mother and I were able to settle onto the sofa under the warmth of the quilt and talk.

  “All right. Are you ready to hear more?” I asked, tucking the quilt a little tighter.

  She turned toward me and propped a crocheted pillow beneath her arms. “I’m listening.”

  At the description of the Ropers and their devious involvement with the Cooleys, Mother shook her head in disgust. When I described what happened to my belongings after the cattle ran through the campsite, she covered her mouth with her hand. “I’d say I can’t believe you did it, but I can. From the time you were able to walk, you thrived on being challenged. Don’t get me wrong. It doesn’t make me feel good knowing everything that’s happened out there, and I’ve been around long enough to know there will be more trouble.”

  “You’re right. The Cooleys won’t give up easily.”

  “It’s the nature of many people, dear—greed and hatred.”

  “Thankfully, there are ones who are good. My other neighbors, Thomas and Lucy. And there’s Lizzie and Joseph, Pastor Allen and his wife. And … Daniel McKenzie and Finn.”

  Mother leaned toward me with a twinkle in her eyes. “Tell me more about this Mr. McKenzie.”

  “He’s an illustrator for a newspaper back East. Most likely, he’s joined his friend, Finn, back in Boston by now. Finn made me laugh like no one ever has.” I smiled at the memory of him galloping around the campsite.

  “What else … about Mr. McKenzie?”

  “He helped me rebuild my lean-to,” I said, wondering where the conversation was headed. “He didn’t need to do that.” I started to get up from the sofa, but mother stopped me.

  “You’re twisting a strand of hair around your finger like you always have when there’s more to a story. More you’re not too sure you want to tell me.”

  I slumped back on the sofa and puffed out a breath. “You’re right. There is definitely more to Daniel McKenzie. Honestly, I’m not sure what it is or what to think. He’s such a gentleman. So caring. So giving. So …” And those eyes.

  She was quiet, maybe giving me time with my thoughts, or maybe reminiscing about my father, trying to recall the feelings she had so long ago.

  “Mother, there’s nothing more important in the world than taking care of Wesley and giving him a happy life. No matter what Sheriff Murphy … David … or whatever he should be called thinks, I am completely capable of doing just that.” Pacing in front of the sofa only helped me state my conviction. “I’ve found out the hard way it doesn’t work out too well to depend on anyone else.”

  Mother’s nod surprised me at first. She had suffered even more loss and pain in the course of her life than I had, but she seemed to have found a source of peace over the years that kept her from constantly raising her fists like me.

  “You’re right, my darling, you shouldn’t depend on anyone else for your happiness. But never allowing yourself to love again …” She rose from the sofa with difficulty. Old age had made her shorter than me by several inches. But in my eyes, she was a giant—full of wisdom and grace.

  “I don’t have feelings for the sheriff … and never will!” My voice was loud and forceful, and I hoped Wesley was sound asleep.

  “That’s quite obvious, but he sure doesn’t see it. Besides, who said anything about him?” she scoffed. “I’m talking about Daniel.”

  “I hardly know him. And besides, he’s gone. Probably back to someone he loves.”

  “Maybe he’s thinking of you.” She spoke matter-of-factly, draping the quilt over the sofa arm and straightening a stack of books resting on the table next to her reading chair. “I suppose you’ll never know.”

  Her words stung. Once again, my fears had tried to hide behind pride—a traitor to my heart. Could he still be there? Was there a chance?

  Maybe it’s not too late.

  *****

  “You’ve hardly been back a week, and now you’re off again.” Mother wrapped her arms around me as we stood on the platform waiting for the westbound train. “It’s going to be awfully quiet without Wesley’s constant chatter. That child asks more questions, especially while we read. I can hardly get to the end of a chapter.”

  “You love every minute.” I lifted the heavy suitcase. “I can’t imagine many of the other homesteaders are worried about having enough books. It’s a good thing the Andersons have a wagon. They’ve offered to let me ride along with them int
o town any time I need supplies.”

  Mother opened her small handbag. “I’ve been saving extra money for a long time. An old woman doesn’t need much.”

  She pushed a roll of neatly tied bills into my palm. I didn’t want to accept her offer, but the little money I had left of my own was running out. Getting other supplies and, eventually, a horse or mule, were necessities if we were to make it through the long winter months.

  “You take good care of yourself and that grandson of mine.”

  “I love you, Mother.” I kissed her soft cheek. “I’ll try my best to come for a visit in the springtime. Or you could come stay with us when the house is fixed up.”

  She took my face in her hands as if trying to memorize every detail. Then she and Wesley hugged until he squirmed out of her grasp, more interested in the approaching train.

  “It really is breathtaking there. The sky goes on for miles. And the wildflowers … they’re scattered forever, every color you can—”

  “Hope to see all that and more someday soon.” Sheriff Murphy stepped onto the platform next to me.

  “Good morning, Sheriff … uh, David,” I said.

  “It wouldn’t be right not to have a proper good-bye. You didn’t tell me you were leaving town so soon. Caught wind of it late last night.” His eyes were bloodshot and his voice gruff.

  “I wasn’t aware you needed to know my schedule.”

  He leaned in closer. The smell of stale whiskey lingered on his breath. “We haven’t had time to talk privately. Excuse us, Louisa.”

  For the sake of Wesley and my mother, there was no cause for a scene. I allowed him to take my hand as he led me to the rear of the platform.

  His tone was low, but he may as well have yelled by the anger in his voice. “Who do you think you are leading me on and then running out of town?”

  “I have done no such thing.” In an attempt to pull my hand away, he clasped it harder. “You’re hurting me.”

  “This is nothing compared to the heartache you’ve caused me. All I’ve ever done is look out for your well-being—from the lousy man you called a husband to you following a crazy idea to be on your own in the middle of nowhere. A helpless woman without a chance in the world.”

  “How dare you speak of Tuck that way.” I jerked my hand from his. “And what I choose to do with my life is none of your business.” I stepped away, but he gripped my arm.

  “That may be true, but what you’re doing to Wesley out of your selfishness is—”

  “Don’t you ever tell me what is best for my child.” My heart drummed, and the words spewed from my mouth. “And if you think I have feelings for you, they are only of repulsion.”

  He released my arm and looked as though he had been struck across the face.

  I stepped back, afraid for a moment he would raise his hand to me.

  Surprisingly, his eyes welled with tears, and he spoke softly. “Mary, I wanted to be alone with you while you were home. I planned to …” he cleared his throat “… tell you I love you and ask you to—”

  The train’s whistle screeched, and the rumbling engine drowned out the rest of his words. I turned and ran to Mother who gave me a quick peck on the cheek. With Wesley’s hand in mine, we picked up our bags and stepped onto the train.

  As the train rolled forward, David stood at the side of the platform. He raised his hand in the air and feigned a wave.

  My intuition assured me it wouldn’t be the last time our paths would cross.

  CHAPTER 28

  Daniel ~ A While Longer, September 26, 1893

  After arguing with myself for a while, my heart won over logic. Or at least my thinking side was fooled into believing this was the right thing to do.

  Once again, more bills were handed to the yellow-haired boy. This time the horse was hitched to a rented wagon filled with enough supplies to construct a sod house for Mary and her son before they returned.

  I’d be on my way to Boston, back to my familiar life, before she returned. No thank you was needed, and I surely didn’t want her wrath. Maybe my motives were selfish. While in the comfort of my apartment, my heart needed to know she and the boy were at least warm and able to make it through the winter. The guilt from ignoring the well-being of a child would be unbearable.

  *****

  I named the roan-colored horse Crimson. She’d made the ride to Mary’s property now for the third time, and there was no one else to talk to. Plus, it was a color on my paint palette that had been neglected for too long.

  “You can eat the grass after you’ve helped me cut mine for bricks.” I patted her neck and hitched her to the plow. “There’s plenty of buffalo grass for both of us.”

  Getting the cutting plow was a stroke of luck. They were in high demand with most of the settlers needing to build a soddy as soon as possible. Few people on the homestead sites could get their hands on enough lumber to build a house, even if they could afford it. With so few trees, the earth itself was the best source for providing shelter.

  The task of making foot-wide strips of sod at least four inches deep, and then divided into three-foot lengths, would be hard on my own. But the timing was good. The owner of the hardware store, who was the brother of Mary’s neighbor, said late fall was the ideal time to build this way. The buffalo grass roots were dense by this time of the year and would hold the soil together.

  Daylight faded as I crisscrossed the last of the strips that made the walls up to where the windows would be placed. Sweat dripped from the tip of my nose. Three walls, about waist high and a solid two-feet thick, adjoined the hill that served as the fourth and most solid support for the home. The embankment would add protection from the harsh winds that would surely come.

  Ravenous, but too tired to cook anything of substance, I tore pieces of bread and jerky and gulped water. As the sky darkened, my bedroll and blanket welcomed me within the walls I had constructed.

  After a couple more days of hard work, there would be a roof to sleep under. I gazed at the stars, captivated by the immensity before me. Millions upon millions of pinpricks allowed small hints of heaven’s brilliance to shine down on earth. Deep breaths filled my lungs, melting away the pain in my back and my aching muscles.

  I was alive under God’s roof.

  *****

  When I awoke, Crimson was nibbling on the stubbly grasses protruding from the sides of the soddy. “Oh no, you don’t. You’ll have to find your own pasture.” I shooed her away and constructed the next portion of Mary’s home.

  Two window frames were set, and I was measuring for the door when a wagon, led by an ox, pulled onto the property.

  “Hello, there.” A man and woman sat side by side on the front bench. He waved, and my hand lifted in return.

  When the wagon rolled to a stop, I noticed both were youthful.

  “Thomas Anderson.” He jerked his head toward the woman. “This is my wife, Lucy.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” I tipped my hat to the young bride and extended my hand to Thomas. “You’re Mary’s neighbors. She speaks highly of you.”

  “We sure are. She’s a delightful woman. So glad she’ll be close by.” Lucy’s curly brown hair bounced when she spoke.

  “Is she here?” Thomas pointed to the partially built house. “That’s a mighty fine soddy the two of you are building.”

  “She’s back in Missouri. Left a few days ago to get her little boy.”

  The couple looked puzzled.

  “She didn’t mention she’d be leaving so soon, did she, Tom?”

  “Not that I remember.” He scratched his head. “Something must have made her want to get on her way.”

  Or someone. There was no way of knowing what her reaction might be when she returned to find a home already built on her property. Best I not be here to find out.

  “Pardon me, folks. There’s a full day’s work ahead of me, plus some, to finish this house.” I picked up a saw and set it to a piece of lumber.

  “But we don’t ev
en know your name,” Lucy called out over the noise.

  “Daniel McKenzie.”

  “Well, Mr. McKenzie, we came over here to tell you—actually, Mary—about some trouble in the area. Tell him, Tom.”

  Thomas rested his elbows on his knees. “My brother, Roy, runs the hardware store in town.”

  “Met him yesterday getting all these supplies lined up.” I gestured toward the sod house. “His little boy is one heck of a deal-maker. He’s the one who got me the horse.”

  Lucy shook her head. “If we have even one child with the spirit of Jeb, I’ll have my hands full.”

  “Lucy’s expecting in the spring.” Thomas put his arm around his wife.

  “Congratulations to the both of you. Perhaps having another just like him would be the best thing to come along. He’s a smart boy, for sure.” I adjusted my hat as the sun was already high in the sky. “Now, what about this trouble?”

  “You’ve heard of the Dalton Gang, haven’t you?”

  I nodded, recalling news that had made it back East about a group of bandits holding up banks and trains in the Midwest.

  “Bill Dalton and Bill Doolin formed the Doolin-Dalton Gang. There’s some others that have joined them,” Thomas said.

  “The Ingalls bandits,” added Lucy. “There was news coming from Guthrie that they were wanting to loot the town on the opening day of the strip, with all the people and money coming into the area.”

  “Not sure what came of that,” Thomas said, “but there are ruffians in this area. Roy said there’s already been trouble in town. One of them tried to rob a businessman last night.”

  Lucy nodded in agreement. “An attorney.”

  The saw slipped from my hand. “Is he all right?”

  “Not sure, but I think so. Rumor has it the rather large man handed over all the money he had, but it wasn’t much.” Thomas paused. “Do you know him?”

  “If he’s the one I’m thinking of, then yes.”

  “And the bandit wanted to shoot the man for wasting his time and mentioned a past grudge. The story goes that he changed his mind when some cowboys came out of the saloon and saw what was happening. The good man wanted to fight the bad man, but the cowboys held him back.” Lucy crossed her heart. “Promise. That’s what Roy’s wife told me.”