by Becky Lower
She had no way of telling how her future would unfold. There were wild tales of women who lived in the West their entire lives with a false identity. She might become one of them, blend in with the surroundings, and never cause anyone to think she was anything other than the façade she presented to the world. She’d keep Valerian at arm’s length should they ever meet up again. Even if he thought he was only befriending another man, it wouldn’t do to become overly friendly with him. She needed to be alone, to rely only on herself. The years with Uncle Jack had been good training for what was to come next—she’d need every ounce of self-preservation if she were to get through the next year.
Then, she’d plot her revenge.
With each mile she put between herself and Uncle Jack, her spirits, and her shoulders, rose a bit. Her eyes were on the rolling hillside and the western horizon. She had used the last little bit of her money to buy some basic food at the hotel, and by the time she stopped for lunch and to water the horses, she was actually humming.
“It’s a fine day to be out on the prairie, don’t you think?” She’d dubbed the horses Blackie and Smoke, since one was dark and the other a gray color. Not terribly original, but they’d do. She ran a hand down the black’s head, and he nuzzled her hand. “You’re nice, too, Blackie. You’re saving my hide. But I think for the afternoon, I’ll get up on Smoke and let you trot along beside us.” She cut a slice of apple off its core and shared pieces of the treat with both animals before finishing it off herself. Her taste buds puckered at the tangy sweetness.
She’d been observing the horses as she loped across the fields and splashed through shallow streams. They both had similar tireless strides, as did most wild mustangs she’d come across. They’d be good horses for the Pony Express, since their stamina was inbred. She followed the Wolf River until it turned south. From there, the trail went straight west until she reached Seneca, seventy-five miles from St. Joseph. She’d get at least halfway to her destination by day’s end. After she got to Seneca she’d figure out what to do next.
• • •
Samantha breathed a sigh of relief as the Seneca station came into view. Two days in the saddle made her one tired woman. But now she had to act as if it was nothing, as if long days in the saddle were something she was used to—and she had to convince the man in charge that she was a fellow. She pulled her hat low over her eyes as she prepared to dismount and meet the gentleman who emerged from the station.
“About time you got here. These the Lafontaine horses?”
“Yep.” Sam kept her voice low and curt.
“Well, put them in the barn and see to them. Then come inside for supper, and we’ll talk.”
Samantha hurried to do the man’s bidding, after sending a cursory glance to the station, which was actually a hotel. It was a stagecoach stop as well as the first home station for the men who would gallop across the country as Pony Express riders. The Smith Hotel was a busy place, much more so than Samantha cared for. Uncle Jack could emerge from a stagecoach and find her within a few days if he figured out in what direction she’d gone. Maybe she’d move on. Surely if she went farther west, she’d find an outpost where only riders would come through.
She led the horses into the barn, put them into stalls, fed them some good grain, and filled their troughs with water. As she rubbed them both down and brushed the trail dust from their hides, she thought about her options.
“I can’t travel on without a horse, and much as I’d love to take one of you with me, I’d be labeled a horse thief by Joseph, and Valerian would need to pay for the horse. I can’t do that to him. Not after all he’s done to help me.” She spoke softly into the horse’s neck as she brushed the gray coat of the one she’d named Smoke. “I don’t know why he’s chosen to help me, but I appreciate it and won’t do anything to make him think less of me. I’ll keep him from getting close to me, but I won’t do anything to make him regret his help. He’s a decent man, and I can’t do what I want and steal one of his horses. I need to treat him with the same integrity he treated me.”
She found her way to the dining room of the big hotel and met up with the station manager, a grizzly-looking man with a twinkle in his eye. He grabbed hold of Samantha’s hand and shook it, hard. Samantha blinked to keep the sudden tears from falling as she winced in pain.
“Glad to meet you. Name’s Gus, and this here’s my wife, Emma. She’s the one responsible for all the good grub. Now, sit and talk to me.”
Emma served them and returned to the kitchen. It was late afternoon, and thankfully, they were alone in the large dining hall. Samantha breathed a small sigh of relief. She reached for a warm roll, inhaling the yeasty scent. After two days in the saddle with only jerky and apples to eat, the food before her was a slice of heaven. She loaded up her plate before she opened the conversation. “My name’s Sam Hughes, and I’m from over St. Joe way. What do you want to know?”
“How do you know the Lafontaines? You ain’t an Injun.”
“Nope, I’m not. I met up with them in St. Joe, and they asked if I’d mind bringing the horses to you.”
“So, are you going to take the stagecoach back east now?”
“I was hoping I could stay here and work with the horses for the Express.”
“Can always use a good stable hand, and you handled those two nearly wild horses well enough. You know the Express will pay you fifty dollars a month, but you’ll also be responsible for the stagecoach horses, so I’ll tack on a bit extra for you.”
“If you’ll give me a place to sleep in the barn and Emma’s good grub every day, that’ll be enough.”
Gus laughed and then shoveled some meat into his mouth. “You better eat up then, since the stagecoach is due within the hour. You’ll have six horses to take care of soon. Welcome to Seneca.”
Six horses in addition to the ones already in the barn. She’d be busy, as she’d seen no sign of another stable hand in the barn. But she was up to the challenge. She’d work into the night if need be. After all, it was either take care of the horses or return to Uncle Jack. Her back stiffened as she sat and talked to Gus a bit more. She’d die if she went back. She’d die before she’d go back.
Chapter 5
In the days leading up to the opening run of the Pony Express, Valerian was kept busy. Joseph’s brothers, Etienne and Gaston, brought another railcar of horses into town, as the first batch of twenty had been spread out over the first four relay posts. The four men, taking two horses at a time, rode out to the relay stations farther out along the old pioneer trail. The stations were set roughly ten to fifteen miles apart, which was the farthest a horse could run at a full gallop. The plan was to have the riders jump off one spent steed, grab the mochila—the pouch carrying the mail—from one saddle, and throw it over the next. Then they’d vault up on the waiting horse and be off. From St. Joe, the route took the horses by ferry across the Missouri River at Elwood and headed on to first relay station in Lancaster. They didn’t have to venture far into Kansas to enter uncivilized country. The relay stations were being erected quickly out of whatever materials were available, usually with dirt floors and no windows. Since only a relay manager and an occasional assistant would be living there, furniture was sparse. Accommodations for the horses were better, in most cases, than the housing for the relay manager. Conditions, except for the home stations, were meager at best.
The trail was set up so at about every seventy-five miles, a home station was built, where one rider’s leg of the journey ended and the mochila was handed off to the next rider along the route. These were bigger, more expansive stations, with room for the Pony Express rider to sleep, eat, and play cards or other games until he was required to go back out on a leg of the ride. The first of these stations was at Seneca, which had already been established for some time as a stagecoach stop for the coaches leaving from St. Joseph, and it was one of the last vestiges of civilization for the wagon trains headed west. It was also where Sam had already delivered two hors
es. Or so Valerian hoped. His first paycheck from the Pony Express was on the line.
As the four men and their remaining extra horses came close to the Seneca station, several persons emerged from the station hotel and the barn to witness their arrival. Valerian was relieved to see Sam among them. Sam took the reins of the extra horse with a nod of welcome and a tip of his hat. Valerian rode his own horse into the barn behind Sam and then dismounted.
“Good to see you again, Sam. So, I take it since you’re still here you got hired on as an assistant?”
“Yep.” Sam shrugged as he led the horse into a stall and removed the bridle. “Got here without any big problems and got hired right away. Thanks again for your help. As soon as the boss took notice of me leading Smoke and riding Blackie, he figured I could handle any horse you men would bring.”
“Smoke and Blackie? You actually named these bad boys?”
“They’re not bad. Just a little wild still. They’ve settled down nicely this past week.”
“As long as they can run hard and fast for ten miles without stopping, they’ll be good for the Pony Express.”
“Nourishing feed and enough rest between runs, and these ponies will do all right.”
They talked a bit more about the horses, and Sam showed Valerian the sleeping quarters in the barn.
“So, you’re going to stay here in Seneca? What about your plans to go farther west?”
“I decided to stay put for the time being since they need help here, and who knows what they need at Marysville? They could probably use another stable hand here, since I have to take care of the stagecoach horses as well, but I’m not complaining. I have a dry place to sleep, good food every day, and I get to work with horses. Right now, this is fine. What else do I need?”
“Speaking of food, it’s about time for supper. Why don’t you join us?”
“I reckon I could. After the stage arrives.”
“All right then. See you later.”
Valerian returned to the yard when the stagecoach rolled in. He observed Sam waiting in the shadows. Sam carefully examined each person on the stage before he emerged from the sidelines to take control of the horses and get them into the barn. Valerian was even more convinced Sam was running from something, and wondered about what Joseph said. About how fate or destiny played a part in the two of them meeting each other. So far, all he’d done was give Sam a horse to ride. If that was the sum total of what fate had in mind, he’d be happy. Valerian wanted no ties, no younger brother figure looking up to him. He didn’t want to be responsible for anyone other than himself. It didn’t figure into his plans right now. Maybe after he was done with the Pony Express and he had some money of his own to set up his own ranch, but right now all he wanted was to be free to ride ponies as far and as fast as he could.
Joseph, Etienne, and Gaston were waiting for him to join them for supper. Etienne resembled Joseph, with his dark hair and eyes, but Gaston took after their father, with sandy hair and green eyes. He still had the high cheekbones and hawk nose giving away his Indian blood, but if he was away from his brothers, one could mistake him for a white man.
Sam finally joined them after the horses were put up for the night. Once he overcame his initial shyness, he was full of news about the Pony Express and led the conversation.
“There’s talk that it’s going to be a race, with the first riders, anyway. One will start from the east, at St. Joseph, and one from the west, at Sacramento, at the same time. Hopefully, we’ll make it from east to west first. It’s a matter of pride.”
Gaston offered up his take on the subject. “Well, the riders heading east from the Pacific coast may have it harder to begin with, since they have to go through mountains. I hear tell they have hired a mule team to keep the trail clear of snow. But the riders heading west will have to face the same challenge at the tail end of their ride. Riding through those mountains any time of the year can be difficult.”
Etienne helped himself to another helping of mashed potatoes before he talked. “It will be interesting to see who wins the first trip. It has certainly been good for our business. I hope it keeps up for several years, since running a pony at top speed will wear them out quickly. We will have to round up more mustangs soon.”
“You’re on your own there, men,” Valerian replied with a laugh. “Now that I’ve got my red shirt, my Pony Express-issue rifle, and my horn to signal when I’m coming into a station, I’m set.”
“Do you know yet where you’ll be stationed?” Sam asked.
“I’m going to make the run from Seneca to Marysville. So I’ll be through here a lot.”
“I’d prefer to be in a place with a little less traffic. When you get to Marysville, I’d appreciate it if you could find out if they need any help.” Sam wouldn’t meet Val’s eyes as he asked for the favor.
“From what I hear, Marysville handles a lot of traffic as well, similar to Seneca. It is another stagecoach stop, and there are thousands of folks from the wagon trains funneling through there every spring.”
“Well then, maybe I’ll need to go even farther west. But one step at a time. Find out if they need anyone, and I’ll take it from there.”
Valerian nodded silently. Yep, Sam was running, and hiding, from something.
• • •
Samantha kept busy and as out of sight as best she could in the final, frantic days before the Pony Express began its run, scheduled for April 3. She was amazed that a task as huge as putting together the Pony Express system could be accomplished so quickly, but that was par for the course in the Wild American West. She was proud to be part of it.
Even with her excitement over the new adventure her life had become, she was still on edge. Every time a stagecoach pulled into the station, she studied the disembarking men from a distance, always on the lookout for Uncle Jack. Although she doubted he’d figure out where she was for a couple of weeks, she couldn’t afford to let her guard down. Not for another eleven months and six days. She didn’t for a moment think he’d give up on finding her. She was convenient, and Jack was lazy. Where else would he find someone to keep his house clean, cook for him, do his laundry, and be within reach whenever he had the urge to plow into her? Not for one minute did she think of it any other way. He’d plowed into Aunt Hilda practically in front of her on more than one occasion. The man was a brutal pig, and she had no delusions he’d change his ways and become an upright member of society. No, he’d rather spend his time tracking her down and hauling her back to his cabin than to get a job and gain some respect in town. People had only tolerated him because of Aunt Hilda. But now that buffer was gone. Samantha was certain people would soon turn their backs on Jack unless he changed his ways.
Somehow, she didn’t think Seneca was far enough away. Her parents’ farm had been in this part of Kansas, and she had sentimental ties to it, but she really thought a place farther west, such as Marysville or beyond, would better suit her needs, even if the Marysville station was a popular stop on the wagon train route. Uncle Jack might be smart enough to figure she’d go back to where she was familiar with the landscape, where her parents were buried. Maybe beyond Marysville was where she needed to be. Or one of the remote relay stations, where life was harder and the relay operators would be sitting ducks for thieves and Indians in need of horses. Uncle Jack would have a hard time finding her there. She’d take a thief or an Indian over Uncle Jack any day.
One step at a time, though. Right now, she was in Seneca, and she had only one friend. Valerian. Even though he had his own family to provide support to him and didn’t need a boy named Sam trailing after him. He had befriended her, made her feel welcome into his circle. Her heart warmed toward him because of that small action. The fact he had a handsome face and the girls who worked in the Seneca kitchen all swooned when he came into view registered with her as well. She couldn’t very well swoon over him as the kitchen ladies did, but his thick, sandy hair and his intelligent, brown eyes had not gone unnoticed by her,
either. It was more reason not to be involved in his life. She didn’t need the distraction a handsome man would cause. But Samantha needed him, if only to not feel so alone in this world.
Once she admitted to herself that Valerian was part of the reason she wanted to stay at either Seneca or Marysville, she allowed herself to think about how they’d work together. Of course, she’d have to shield her identity from him at all times. And shield her attraction to him. It would not do to have him discover she was a girl. After all, they’d both taken the pledge to conduct themselves honestly and be faithful in their duties. She was living a lie, which would mean immediate dismissal from her job should she be found out. And if Valerian ever put the pieces together, he’d have to report her or be turned out, same as her. She couldn’t afford to let that happen to either of them. So, she’d continue the ruse, and if she were unveiled somehow, she’d grab one of the Lafontaine horses and run as far and as fast as she could.
When she became of age and decided what to do with the rest of her life, she might tell him then. Or she might disappear from his life without him ever knowing all the months he’d been her pal she’d been a girl.
Joseph, Gaston, and Etienne had taken the stage back to St. Joseph, leaving behind the horses that they had ridden in. Valerian took two horses on to Marysville. In a few short days, the rides would commence, and the hectic pace around Seneca would pick up even more. Despite worrying every time a stage pulled in, Samantha was excited to be a part of the Pony Express, even if she wasn’t a rider.
For now, at least, it was her job to shovel horse dung, throw down fresh hay for feed and straw for bedding, and take care of the horses. Life was good. Or as good as it could be. She’d take the scent of horse dung over Uncle Jack’s nasty breath any day.
She picked up a brush and began to clean one of the ponies recently left by the Lafontaine brothers. “Easy there, Rosebud.” It was easier for her to sort through the horses if she put a name to each one. The brown horse whinnied, and its flesh quivered as she ran the brush over the hide. “A bit nervous, are you, girl? Join the crowd. America is on the verge of doing something great, and we’re part of it. In only a few days, the race is on.”