by Montana West
“That’s exactly how I felt yesterday when I was roping and riding Whirlwind,” Leyla spoke up. “That feeling that comes from being connected to your horse, like you’ve found another part of your spirit.”
“You are definitely your father’s daughter, Leyla,” Abigail giggled, though her eyes beamed with pride.
“But she’s not wrong about that,” John agreed. “Like the Natives who taught me, the bond between a rider and their horse is almost impossible to break so long as one trusts the other.”
“It’s exactly how I felt when I first acquired old Cannonball,” Chase opined. “That sensation that makes you feel like you’ve been waiting your whole life just to meet this magnificent creature.”
“That’s the honest truth there, Mister McAllister,” Margaret stated in agreement. “There are few joys in life that compare with the knowledge that you’ve found a special creature that will follow you into the jaws of the blazing deep itself.”
“WELL, I CAN THINK OF one,” John said slowly, standing up from his seat and turning toward Margaret, a nervous grin spread across his face.
All eyes in the room were suddenly locked on the McNeal’s ranch boss as he reached out and gently grasped Margaret’s hands in his.
“John...?” Margaret asked quietly, unsure of exactly what was going on.
It’s now or never, John thought, anxiety and anticipation swirling like a maelstrom within him.
“Folks, I’d like to apologize for the suddenness of what I’m about to do, especially with you here as a guest, Chase, but I just couldn’t wait to do this any longer,” John declared.
Both Leyla and Abigail watched in wide-eyed anticipation as John kneeled before Margaret. As for Margaret herself, her breath seemed to have caught in her throat and her eyes were the size of $10 gold pieces.
John took in a deep breath, trying with every ounce of will he had to keep himself from letting the tension pent up within him bleed into his fingers and grip Margaret’s hands too tightly.
“Margaret McNeal,” he began slowly, “I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve told you I love you over the past few months, and I doubt I’ll be able to keep count in the future either. But I know that I mean it more and more each time I say it. And I also know that I’m never going to find a woman who can make me feel like you do, and I have no desire to try.”
Margaret chanced a glance at her sister and mother, as though looking for some indication that they knew what was going on. But Leyla and Abigail were just as stymied as she was, though it looked as though tears were starting to well up in the corners of their eyes.
“I know I’m just a ranch boss,” John continued, “but I can’t fight this anymore. Margaret McNeal, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
MARGARET’S BRAIN TRIED in vain to comprehend the question that had just been asked of her. He had asked before, but somehow she’d managed to convince herself that it had not truly been serious. She loved him, wanted to spend the rest of her days with him, wanted to have his children and grow old together, but at the same time, as deeply as she wanted more, she was also still afraid. So she’d been both sad and at the same time relieved that he hadn’t asked her again.
But now, finally, here he was on bended knee asking her to be his wife.
And she was afraid.
It ashamed her.
He loves me, he’s devoted to me, he respects and supports my independence and my passions, she thought as she mentally enumerated the countless reasons that she adored the scruffy Kentucky boy in front of her.
He’s just said plain as day that he wants to spend his life with me on this ranch when he could just as easily ride further west. He loves me that much.
And I love him.
Margaret realized that John and all of the others were waiting for her reply. In that moment, she could feel everything: John’s strong but gentle grip on her fingers, her heart pulsing like a piston beneath her breast, the slow inhale and exhale of her shallow breaths as she tried to make up her mind.
Life’s much better when you have someone to share it with, she remembered her mother telling her months back.
With that thought embedded firmly in her head, Margaret McNeal made up her mind.
ABIGAIL MCNEAL, THE matriarch of the McNeal family couldn’t have been happier that John Baldwin had finally chosen to make an honest woman of her daughter. But as the silence stretched between Margaret and John, it was all she could do not to stand up and drop the plate of leftover duck and potatoes over her stupid daughter’s head.
As Abigail and the others awaited Margaret’s response, Abigail forced herself to stay still and wait. The pair so obviously loved each other. And if Margaret didn’t let go of her fear and pride, she’d let a wonderful man ride out of her life again. This time for good.
It felt like an eternity before Margaret finally spoke.
“Yes,” the young brunette said quietly.
It was silent for a moment, no one even daring to breathe as they tried to determine whether or not they had just heard Margaret McNeal agree to John Baldwin’s proposal.
“Maggie?” John asked hopefully, his eyes shining with unbridled happiness at the thought that his prayers had been answered.
Margaret’s lips blossomed into a smile that looked as though it would split her face in twain as she pulled John up from his knees and kissed him full on the mouth in front of God and everyone else present.
Peter, wherever you are, our little girl has finally found her man, Abigail thought proudly, pulling a handkerchief from her dress and dabbing at the tears that she had failed to notice were streaming down her cheeks. She smiled as she saw Leyla mimicking her actions with her own handkerchief.
When Margaret finally broke the kiss, she looked into John’s eyes with unrestricted happiness.
“Yes, John Baldwin, I will marry you, and I promise I will never let you go,” she declared firmly.
John let out a breath that he must’ve been holding for an eternity just before he pulled her into a fierce kiss of his own, his arms wrapping around her waist.
When they broke the kiss for lack of air, John’s eyes lit up as though he were remembering something. He reached his hand into the pocket of his trousers and drew out a simple silver ring capped by a small but brilliant blue gemstone.
“With this ring, my father asked my mother to be his wife,” John said shakily, tears of happiness and remembrance gathering in the corners of his own eyes. “Maggie, I know my mother would be honored if you’d be the one to wear it from now on.”
Abigail sniffled as she watched her daughter nod her head as she allowed John to slide the piece of silver and stone onto her left ring finger, the piece moving past her knuckle and coming to rest as though it had been tailor made for her.
Leyla was still dabbing at her own eyes, the suddenness of John’s marriage proposal and her sister’s acceptance catching her completely off guard emotionally.
That’s one daughter married, Abigail thought happily. Now let’s see if we can make the same happen for Leyla and—
Abigail’s train of thought ground to a screeching halt as she looked at Chase McAllister. The handsome and pleasant show rider, who moments before had worn a smile that could have outshined the sun, had paled and his eyes bore an expression of pain at the sight before him.
That’s curious, Abigail mused. It’s rare to see a man so troubled by another’s engagement without good reason. Can’t be he fell in love with Maggie since his eyes have rarely left Leyla all night.
While everyone was still distracted by John and Margaret, Abigail allowed herself to do a quick check over Mr. McAllister, her eyes roaming over him to see if she could pick out any telling details.
He’s too polite to be another traveling roustabout with a girl in every town, she determined. No, if he had been that, Maggie would’ve picked up on it immediately and he’d have been off this ranch faster than a cattle hand on payday. No ring on his finger, nor is there any
indication that there once was one there. Then again, maybe it’s been some time since it was there and the lines of where it was have simply faded.
Despite the joyous nature of her older daughter’s impending marriage, Abigail couldn’t help but feel mildly uncertain about Leyla’s interest in Chase McAllister and his interest in her.
I like you, Chase McAllister, Abigail thought, her eyes fixed on the guest seated at their table, and I pray that whatever you’re hiding about your past is nothing unsavory or criminal. But I can’t trust a man right away who blanches at a marriage proposal. I intend to find out one way or another just what your history is.
THEY LOOK HAPPY, Chase thought sullenly, memories of his own past and the life he had hoped to have rising toward his mind’s eye like snowflakes caught in a chilling updraft.
He had suspected that John Baldwin was more than just the ranch boss when he had arrived that morning, but to have been so close to Margaret McNeal that he actually proposed to her had blindsided Chase like a Mexican bull.
I envy you, Mr. Baldwin, Chase thought sadly. From where he sat, he could see that the love in the ranch boss’s eyes was perfectly mirrored in Miss McNeal’s. Truly, each of them had found the person they were meant to be with.
I once thought as they did, he recalled for but a moment before he pushed the memories of his past further back in his mind, refusing to let his troubles intrude on this happy moment.
The sound of sniffling caught his attention, and he turned to regard Leyla, who was currently trying to find a spot on her handkerchief that she hadn’t already used.
Well now we can’t have that, Chase thought genially as he dug into the pocket of his trousers and withdrew his own well-worn handkerchief. He gave the cloth a quick whip in order to clear it of any lingering detritus before he reached over and gently tapped Leyla’s arm.
The redhead jumped at his light touch, but when she saw the offered handkerchief in his hand, she smiled gratefully at him and took it gingerly.
“Thank you, Chase,” she whispered.
“Think nothing of it, Leyla.”.
“I must look terrible right now,” Leyla continued to dab at her eyes that had gone red with tears of happiness. “It’s just I’m so happy for Maggie.”
Chase gave her a reassuring smile as he continued to look at her. “You have nothing to apologize for, Leyla. This is a moment of happiness and you’ve every right to be joyful for your sister. And truth be told, I think you still look absolutely lovely.”
Leyla blushed at his earnest compliment, mouthing another ‘thank you’ to him before she returned her attention to John and Margaret.
Chase simply sighed and tried to take some joy from the fact that he had been privileged to be present for this intimate moment in the lives of the McNeal family, no matter how much it reminded him of his own past and the pains that resided there.
HE THINKS I’M LOVELY, Leyla thought dreamily.
Though anyone observing would believe that Leyla was completely enrapt by her sister and John’s engagement, her mind was reflecting on the small moment that she had just shared with Chase McAllister.
She tightly gripped the show rider’s handkerchief in her hand, as though it were a treasured keepsake bequeathed to her by her betrothed. She gave her head a slight shake, trying to clear such scandalous thoughts from her mind.
Lending me his handkerchief was simply the act of a gentleman, she deduced logically enough, but telling me I look lovely, even when I must be a mess right now, that’s something more.
Unlike her sister, Leyla wasn’t afraid to admit to herself that she thought Chase McAllister was a handsome man. Combined with his show riding skill and the eccentricities that came with being a travelling performer, Leyla found that there was a strong magnetism to him that was pulling her in.
Better keep those observations under my hat for now, Leyla thought cautiously. Maggie may be happy that John asked her to marry him, but I don’t think she’s happy enough that she won’t try to scare Chase off if she thinks we are growing too close.
ANOTHER HOUR PASSED at dinner, the excitement of Margaret and John’s engagement wearing down and everyone enjoying the delicious food that Abigail had prepared.
However, like all good things, it had to come to an end when Chase glanced at the clock in the parlor and realized that the show that night would be starting in an hour’s time.
“My deepest apologies for eating and running, Missus McNeal,” he said with a hasty bow to Abigail, “but I just realized that if I don’t get a move on back to the show, then Professor Monro will have me riding with the clowns for the rest of our travels this season.”
Abigail smiled sweetly at Chase. “Of course, Mister McAllister,” she replied, “and thank you for taking the time to visit us today. Please remember that you’re always welcome here at the McNeal Ranch.”
She paused, as though waiting for some opposed input from Maggie, but the elder McNeal daughter was still staring lovingly at John Baldwin, the two unable to take their eyes from one another.
“Leyla,” Abigail declared, catching her daughter’s attention. “Would you kindly see Mister McAllister to his horse? And give him one of the lanterns from the stable just in case he needs help seeing the signs directing him back to Cheyenne.”
“Yes, Mama,” Leyla answered, standing up from the table and approaching Chase.
Chase, ever the gentleman, offered his arm to the young redhead and she gratefully accepted it, the two of them strolling out into the hall and out the door.
“THANK YOU AGAIN, CHASE,” Leyla said quietly as they walked toward the stable. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you came by and taught me some of your skills.”
“The honor was all mine, Leyla,” Chase countered, giving her another of his charming smiles. “It’s not often I get to spend time with folks other than performers or get a meal like your mother whipped up. Certainly wouldn’t mind the chance to come back again.”
“Why don’t you?” Leyla asked simply.
Chase faltered in his steps and he turned to regard the woman on his arm. For a moment, he thought she might’ve been joking but the expression on her pale face told him that she was being sincere.
“Well, I...that is,” he began awkwardly, his free hand scratching the back of his neck beneath his long brown locks. “I suppose I might be able to stop by tomorrow around the same time and I could teach you a few more things. That is, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Leyla giggled at his sudden bashfulness. “I wouldn’t mind at all, Chase,” she said happily. “In fact, I insist on it. Please come by tomorrow around the same time.”
“It’d be a pleasure to, Leyla,” he replied, unable to turn down her offer.
As the two reached the stable, Chase found Cannonball and prepared his horse for the journey back toward the show. Leyla did as told and handed him a lit oil lantern, providing him with light for his ride.
Before Chase climbed into Cannonball’s saddle, he fixed Leyla with another smile.
“Until tomorrow?” he asked courteously.
“I’ll be expecting you,” Leyla answered and without any provocation, she stood up on her toes and touched his lips in a shy kiss. “Ride safely and best of luck in your performance tonight, Chase,” she said before turning on her heel and skittering back toward the house.
Chase stood there for a moment before he tentatively reached a hand up to his lips. He touched them, feeling the warmth upon them that the intimate contact with her had left. In a way, it made him feel something long forgotten spring to life once more.
Maybe I can finally put the past behind me, he prayed.
Chapter IV: A Love Blossoms
MCNEAL RANCH LAND, Near Cheyenne, Wyoming Territory, August 1885
The four days that followed Chase McAllister’s first visit to the McNeal ranch of Cheyenne were a flurry of activity, much to the delight of everyone involved.
Margaret, John and Abigail busied the
mselves by going over the groundwork that would need to be laid not only for the wedding, but also for afterward.
It was with some trepidation that John Baldwin broached the subject of the legalities of Margaret finally taking a husband. When Margaret fixed him with a suspicious look, he quickly made sure to clarify that he had no desire to be the new owner of the ranch nor did he have any dreams of it becoming the Baldwin Ranch.
Though that assuaged Margaret, she too began to wonder what the variables of finally getting married would mean for her ranch.
Luckily for both of them, Abigail had long since prepared for the eventuality of her older daughter finally finding a husband and had the paperwork stating all of the necessities ready and waiting. All it took was summoning a notary from Cheyenne to ensure that everything was in order and that was one little obstacle cleared from their path.
While the three of them were preoccupied by Margaret’s engagement, Leyla was paying close attention to Chase McAllister’s show-riding lessons.
The brown-haired show rider had become something of a regular at the McNeal ranch, appearing every afternoon around the same time, meeting up with Leyla and then the two of them would ride off toward the southern pasture in order to continue Leyla’s lessons. Despite the good-natured complaints of Professor Monro about his star rider becoming amorously distracted, Chase kept to his regimen like clockwork.
Each afternoon, Leyla’s riding skill improved dramatically under Chase’s patient tutelage. By the end of the first day, she could confidently guide Whirlwind into a full gallop that left a cloud of dust in her wake. As the second drew to a close, she was far more comfortable performing feats of leaping over obstacles as well as riding sidesaddle. With the end of the third, she could even replicate her sister’s trick of releasing the reins in midair and she even managed to become used to riding atop her saddle in a crouch.