by S. C. Wilson
She splashed her face with water Edith had left in a china pitcher atop the worn bureau. The tepid water shocked her into full wakefulness, the desired effect. Her rifle was still unusable, but she took it with her. The sight of it would hopefully deter any trouble she might run into.
The street was empty as most of the businesses were still closed for the night. Light emitting from a nearby window piqued her curiosity. The closer she got, the more the aromas inside excited her grumbling stomach. She’d been too overwhelmed upon her arrival to notice the wood-planked Tin Plate sign above the door, now illuminated from light within.
Inside, she was greeted by a brunette woman seated at a table. “Oh, mornin.’ You’re up and at it early. Have a seat and I’ll be right with you,” she said, getting up and taking her plate to the back.
Except for wooden chairs and tables, the place was empty at this early hour. Jesse chose a spot next to the window, placing her rifle and hat on the chair next to her.
The woman approached Jesse’s table. “You wantin’ the special?”
Jesse had no idea what the ‘special’ was, but nodded, eager to put a taste to the smell.
“Just put on the coffee. I’ll bring ya a cup as soon as it’s ready. Usually don’t get many people in this early,” the woman said over her shoulder, returning to the back of the establishment. “Got us an early riser, Joe. Need one special,” she called out.
Jesse’s vantage point offered a view of a long stretch of the street. Without the overwhelming bustle, the size of the town wasn’t nearly as intimidating. She caught her own reflection in the window. She wondered what Frieda would think of the changes to the town, and to herself.
The woman placed a large plate of food in front of her, startling her back to reality. Her mouth watered at the sight: two fried eggs, four pieces of bacon, and two slabs of toasted, buttered bread.
Setting down a steaming cup of coffee, the woman asked, “Ya needin’ anything else?”
“No, ma’am. Thank you.”
“All right, then. Enjoy.” She returned to the back.
It smelled amazing. She dug in, soaking up egg yolk with the toast. It was better than she had eaten in years. Jesse felt bad for thinking so, but knew Frieda would be happy for her. The coffee was perfect, too.
The woman returned as Jesse was finishing the first cup. “How was it?” she asked, pouring a second cup.
“Very good.” Jesse smiled.
“Glad to hear it. I’ll leave ya to it. No rush. Not like we are needin’ the table.”
As Jesse sipped her coffee, her thoughts shifted to her family. Years had passed since she had smelled bacon. Images of sitting around the table with her family, eating her mother’s cooking, came rushing back. She could almost feel them sitting next to her. She was so lost in the recollection the waitress had to repeat the price of the meal before Jesse acknowledged her. She had no idea how long the woman had been standing there.
Jesse apologized for her inattention as she reached into her pouch and handed over a few coins.
“You look like a man with a lot on his mind.”
“Sorry. I just got lost in a thought,” Jesse said.
“Well, let me fetch your change and I’ll be right back,” the woman said, glancing at the coins in her hand.
When she returned with the change, Jesse was already gone. What a nice fella to leave such a generous tip, she thought.
Walking around the still-quiet town, Jesse felt relief. She had passed as a man again. She took her time exploring the strip of closed businesses along one side of the road before ending up at a corral on the southernmost end. A variety of horses circled inside the fence. Watching them frolic, it wasn’t long before a curious buckskin walked right up to her, nudging her hand with his nose. He resembled her father’s horse, Dakota. She felt drawn to him by the uncanny similarities. Jesse spoke quietly to the light tan horse with the black mane, rubbing his face, and scratching him behind the ears.
The instant connection with the horse evoked such strong feelings of nostalgia that Jesse was sad when the sun made its appearance along the horizon. She could have stayed there all day.
“You wantin’ to buy?”
Startled, Jesse turned from the fence.
The man dropped his cigarette and ground it in the dirt with his boot. “You won’t find a better horse than that buckskin right there. He’s well broke and ready to ride. Won’t find a better price, neither. Hell, I’ll even throw in all the tack you’ll need—for the right price, that is.”
The few coins in her pouch weren’t enough to buy a horse. Jesse turned away, fumbled in her shirt, and pulled out a small, shiny nugget. She turned back to face him, extending her hand with the nugget in the center of her palm.
“Want to trade?” she asked.
The man grabbed the gold chunk. He placed it in his mouth and bit down, looking jubilant as he pulled it away. “Hell yeah, and I’ll even throw in saddlebags and a scabbard for your rifle,” he exclaimed, tone higher than before.
Jesse could tell by his eagerness she might be overpaying. She pointed to the pistol hanging on his hip.
“I’ll need your gun too,” she said, calm and confident.
“You got yourself a deal, fella!” he said.
After shaking hands, he pocketed the nugget. Jesse followed as he led the horse into the barn. She studied his movements carefully as he saddled the horse. It had been years since she had seen her brothers and father do it, and she’d never had the opportunity to try herself. Jesse made mental notes of each step of the process.
After attaching the saddlebags and leather scabbard to the saddle he said, “Let me see your rifle.”
She handed it over and watched as he slid it into the scabbard. It was a perfect fit.
He removed the pistol and holster from around his waist and handed it to her.
“Ever shot one before?”
“No, sir,” she said. “Never have.”
“Well let me show ya,” the man said.
Outside, he explained how to load the gun. He aimed at a bale of hay up against the barn and fired. “See? Nothin’ to it!” he said, handing it over. “Take a shot.”
She took the gun, aimed, and fired. Bits of flying hay marked her shot. Impressed with the small pistol, Jesse strapped it around her waist, cinching it a few notches tighter.
“Appreciate the business,” the man said. He shook her hand one last time before handing over the reins.
“Thank you. Come on, Buck.” Glowing, she led her new purchase out of the barn, completely satisfied with the trade. She hadn’t a clue what the nugget was worth, but either way it was fine. Right now, she needed a horse more than she needed a piece of gold.
Her gaze fell upon a building down the street called Felix’s Trading Post. She stopped at the hotel for the roll of pelts, and then led Buck back to the Post. She slowly tied him to the hitching post, giving herself some extra time to calm her nerves.
A bell jingled above her head as she entered. Two old men sat by a barrel moving game pieces around a board. They briefly glanced at her before turning their heads back to the playing surface. She was inconspicuous, as Frieda had intended.
Jesse walked to the counter and dropped her pelts. “You Felix?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Edith said to tell you to treat me right.”
The short man behind the counter, his hair slicked back and shiny, picked them up. “She did. Well, I wouldn’t want to upset Miss Edith. She can be a little spitfire,” he said, grinning as he started to sort through the pelts.
Whatever he used on his hair, he also used on his mustache. It had the same glossy appearance. Jesse tried not to stare. She had never seen one like it before, so thick and long that it curled in circles on the ends.
“I don’t really buy beaver pelts anymore. They can be hard to sell these days. But these are some nice ones. Fantastic quality.” He scratched his head like he was deep in a thought. “I know a furrie
r—lives down in San Francisco. I’m thinking he’d be interested in these. He comes through here a couple times a year. I don’t want to overpay or get stuck with ‘em.” He paused again, considering potential offers. “I tell you what, I’ll give you two dollars each and I’ll see how it goes. You interested in doing some trading?” He pointed to the merchandise behind her.
Glancing around the store, Jesse saw items she was definitely interested in. She grabbed a book, candles, two traps, rope, gunpowder, ammo, nails, twine, a coffee pot and coffee, and a sack of horse feed.
“Give me just a minute to do some figuring.” Felix took the pencil from behind his ear and scratched some numbers down on a piece of paper. “All right, I still owe you,” he said as he reached in his cash drawer.
“Thank you, sir,” Jesse said, taking the money.
“Welcome. And when you see Miss Edith, give her my best.” He finished with an ornery wink.
Jesse walked out, put her purchases into her saddlebags and returned to get the bag of feed. Before she could leave again, Felix called out, “Hey, I’m not sure he’ll buy these,” he nodded down at the pile of pelts, “but if he does, he may want more. Do you have more if he asks?”
“Not with me, but I can bring some next year,” she said as she hoisted the bag of feed over her shoulder.
“I don’t know how this will pan out for me. Tell you what, you bring them by next year. If he purchases these, and wants more, then I’ll buy those off you too.”
“All right. I can do that.”
She was just about out the door when Felix called out again, “What’s the name?”
“Jesse, and thanks again.”
Jesse led the encumbered horse back to the hotel. She collected her belongings from her room and loaded them into her saddlebags. She found Edith outback, mucking out one of the stalls in the barn.
“Mornin’, Jesse. I was wonderin’ what happened to you. I was going to make you some porridge this morning, but there was no answer when I knocked on your door.”
“Couldn’t sleep, so thought I’d go for a walk.”
“You hungry? I can still fix you a bowl,” Edith asked, squinting, as she massaged her shoulder with her fingers.
“No, ma’am. I got some food at the Tin Plate.”
“Oh. All right. You heading out already?”
“Yes, ma’am. But first, let me do that for you,” Jesse said, reaching for the pitchfork.
“That’s kind of you to offer, but you don’t have to do that.”
“It won’t take me long, and I’m happy to do it for you.”
“You’re an angel. My shoulder is giving me fits today. Usually it ain’t this bad.”
“I’m happy to help,” Jesse said. “Can I help you with anything else before I leave?”
“No. You just come inside when you’re done,” Edith said.
“All right. I’ll be in shortly.”
Jesse started scooping up the manure and putting it in the wheelbarrow. After filling and dumping a load and a half, she cleaned her hands in the trough. She found Edith in the kitchen.
“All finished. How much do I owe you for the stay?” Jesse asked.
“One dollar, the food was on me. And I made you a little something for your trip,” Edith said, handing Jesse a small burlap bag.
Peeking inside, Jesse noticed a loaf of bread, and a piece of smoked pork. “This looks delicious, but you didn’t have to do that.”
“I am happy to do it,” Edith said, smiling.
“Thank you for everything.” Jesse returned the smile.
Edith followed Jesse outside after they settled the bill. “That’s a beautiful horse,” she said, rubbing Buck’s neck.
“Just bought him. Should make traveling a lot less lonely.”
“Congrats on a fine purchase. Just so you know, when you come back, the price of the room includes a stall for your horse. Will you be returning soon? You are always welcome here.”
“Not this year, but I’ll be back next year to do some trading. Thank you again for everything, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome. And please, call me Edith.”
Jesse smiled and tipped her hat as both said their goodbyes. Heading out of town, Jesse got the feeling she looked a little ridiculous. She didn’t care. It had been years since she had ridden, and until she had some privacy she wasn’t going to make a fool of herself. Horse in tow, she walked until they were back in the solitude of the woods.
Once away from watchful eyes, Jesse stopped. She slid a foot into the stirrup and mounted the horse. She sat completely still for a moment, afraid to breathe, wanting to give him a chance to get the feel of having her on his back. He had no qualms with his new passenger. After a few minutes, she gave him a gentle nudge to the flanks.
Every time he stepped over a fallen log, she rubbed his neck, praising the achievement. She could tell Buck was a tame horse. It wasn’t long before all she had to do was relax and enjoy the ride.
They reached the river crossing with plenty of daylight left to burn. Jesse decided to use the time to get a better feel for the horse. She removed the supplies in a nearby clearing and steered her mount toward the small glade. After a few laps around the meadow, she felt the urge to increase his speed. With another tap of her heels, Buck transitioned into a smooth trot. She knew he could run much faster if she chose to let him, but this was plenty fast for now.
Jesse pulled back hard on the reins after a few laps. Buck, obedient, came to an immediate stop. Jesse kept her momentum, realizing her mistake as she went catapulting over the front of the horse. She struggled to regain the breath forced from her lungs when she hit the ground.
A more pressing matter arose once she came to her senses. With her hand held up in front of her face, she stared at her contorted middle finger. It instantly reminded her of Frieda’s fingers, only worse. The twisted finger throbbed, but she had to straighten it. Waiting would make the process unbearable. She picked up a stick and placed it between her teeth. Jesse grabbed the finger, simultaneously pulling and twisting, until the crooked knuckle popped back into place.
Next time don’t pull on the reins so hard, she thought. She was thankful that she hadn’t broken her neck. She practiced walking with the horse directly behind her until she was satisfied she could lead him across the river. Jesse walked him back to her belongings, praising him the entire way. When she removed the saddle, she paid special attention to the knot. She would need to know how to retie it later.
Jesse let Buck graze. As the horse ate, she had her own small meal of smoked pork and bread. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was crazy to consider doing what she was about to attempt. Frieda and Nathaniel had crossed with horses, but she still had doubts. As night closed in, her uncertainty grew.
Under the cover of darkness, she removed her moccasins as panic washed over her. Buck was gentle, but she had no idea how he would react once he stepped into the wild river. If he panicked, they would be swept away to their deaths.
She grabbed him by the reins, and slowly led him down the embankment. Buck’s ears flickered back and forth at the water’s edge. Jesse wondered what he was thinking. She gave him enough slack to bend down and smell the water. After a few snorts and tosses of his head, the flickering of his ears slowed.
Jesse moved forward until his front two legs were in the water. As soon as the force of the water hit Buck’s legs he yanked his head back, threatening to pull her off of her feet. She gave him more slack. Buck tossed his head wildly, wide-eyed with flaring nostrils. He was suddenly a different horse. Jesse did her best to calm him before he pulled them both in.
“Easy, boy. Easy.” She spoke in the most reassuring tone she could muster, rubbing his neck, and scratching him behind the ears. She wasn’t sure who she was trying to encourage more—herself or the horse.
Jesse stood with him until she saw his temperament soften. She took him by the reins under his bit, and cautiously walked forward. She prayed he wouldn’t panic. If
he did, she would have to release the reins and let him go. Buck followed right behind her, once again trusting in his new companion.
Jesse didn’t give him even an inch of slack. Slowly, step-by-step, she led Buck across the moonlit river. Once safely on the opposite bank, she praised him repeatedly. They kept walking until she felt they were well hidden on Mount Perish.
Jesse fell asleep watching the soft yellow glow of fireflies blinking all around her in the darkness.
The next morning she woke to the throbbing pain of her swollen and bruised finger. She managed to saddle the horse despite the discomfort.
She followed the river, keeping it on their right for the return trip. With each step, her confidence on horseback grew. She and Buck spent three days traveling ever upward. Each evening they stopped and bedded down for the night.
When they were close enough, she decided to give Buck a rest and walk for the remainder of the journey. With his help, she would now be able to make the trip in four days instead of six. Buying a horse had been one of the best decisions she had ever made.
The sight of the cabin gave her mixed emotions. It was good to see home again, but it felt empty without Frieda. She wasn’t sure how she was going to handle life on the mountain now. Keeping busy would be the best thing to keep her mind off of her loneliness.
Jesse spent the remainder of the summer practicing her riding and shooting skills, and working on the preparations for the coming winter. Her first priority was getting the lean-to repaired. She cut and hewed several trees, and used the wood to patch up the old lean-to and mend the split rail fence.
It didn’t take long for Buck to become accustomed to the place. During the day he roamed around freely. He spent his nights in the safety of the lean-to.
Most of Jesse’s days were spent using a machete to cut down areas of green grass, which she dried, bundled, and tied with twine. The bundles were stored inside the cabin with the large bag of feed to keep them dry. By the time she was done, there was an entire wall of the bundles piled from floor to ceiling; supplemental food for Buck during the long winter months that lay ahead. Jesse had also managed to kill and smoke a couple of deer, as well as making several loaves of pemmican. She felt a sense of accomplishment; she was more than ready to make it through another winter season.