Lariats, Letters, and Lace

by Agnes Alexander

  The service ended.

  The pastor greeted them at the back foyer. “Chantilly. Hope Matt’s not ill?”

  “He’s fine. Had to go on an outing.” She sort of told the truth. “Have you met Blaze, our new Pony Express rider?”

  “Nice to meet you.” The pastor shook Blaze’s hand. “Hope you’ll visit our church again.”

  Blaze smiled. “You can count on it.”

  With a parting nod to the preacher, he offered Chantilly his arm and guided her toward the livery.

  “Ready for our picnic?”

  “Not if we’ll be outside.”

  “We’ll be eating indoors. Come spring, once it warms up, we’ll take a buggy ride to the river.”

  An adventure. That’s what I need—a short adventure with Blaze.

  ****

  Blaze pulled open the barn-style door and brought Chantilly inside the tall wooden structure. The carriage house, with ten-foot rafters, dwarfed Blaze’s size. Dozens of buggies lined both sides. His hand felt warm as he held hers and walked through the middle to a corner in the back. Haystacks were covered with red-and-white checkered tablecloths. A basket sat in the center, a jug of apple cider next to it.

  “You did all this for me?” A sweet sigh left her lips as she sat to the left on the edge of the haystack.

  “Chantilly.” He planted a soft kiss on her cheek “Don’t you know I long to please you?”

  “I’ve never been spoiled like this before.”

  “Time to get used to being pampered.” He opened the basket, and spread out fried chicken, a jar of peaches, biscuits, and orange marmalade. He handed her a tin plate, silverware, and a white cloth napkin.

  She took a biscuit and slathered it with marmalade. “Tell me where you were born.” Her voice had an enchanting spunkiness.

  “Canada.”

  “Canada? I’ve never met anyone born there.” A faraway look glimmered in her green eyes. One that might be longing, but he couldn’t be certain.

  “Winnipeg. It’s in the middle of the country, but not too far from the United States border.” He loved how her head tilted as she listened. “It’s cold there. Snowed from November through May.”

  “I wouldn’t like that.” She gave a mock shiver and pointed the biscuit at him. “How’d you end up in the States?”

  Her luscious mouth tempted him. He swallowed hard. “Must’ve been about six when relatives in Wisconsin sponsored us. My folks worked the farm with my aunts and uncles. The spring and summer meant tending the fields. The winter meant dragging hay out to our livestock and drudging through snow to milk the cows in the barn.”

  “Are your parents still there?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet.

  “Pa got kicked in the head by a horse ’bout five years ago. Ma died the following winter.” His parents’ death spiked grief in his chest. “At twenty, it seemed like a good time to leave.”

  “I lost Ma at nine.” She sipped cider. “Been looking after Matt ever since.”

  He took her hand. “Makes you two close.”

  “He’s the only family I’ve got left.” Her top lip quivered. “If you remember, you were going to tell how you ended up here.”

  “Pretty and knows her mind. I like it.” He pressed his lips to hers.

  Giving him a playful push, a mock-sternness crept into her voice. “Back to the story, sir.”

  “Alright. The gold rush stories had me wanting to see California. Thought Sacramento streets were made of gold, not muddy dirt. Didn’t like feeling like a walking piece of milquetoast. One of the so-called ‘friendly folks’ picked my pocket.” He laughed. “Wasn’t at all what I expected.”

  Snatching a piece of chicken, she asked, “How’d you end up working for the Pony Express?”

  He laughed. “Dumb luck. I happened to pass their office and found out they was hiring. They took a chance on me—gave me a route, and here I am.”

  Her glance slid past him, seeming to see plumb through the livery stable walls and beyond. “Sometimes I wish I could up and leave.”

  “I admire your strength. I don’t know another gal who’d work in a blacksmith shop alongside her brother.” His thumb drew a line down her cheek. He cupped her face with his palm and leaned forward. Breathing in her natural scent, he kissed her fully. “Chantilly, you are so beautiful.”

  When she looped her arms around his neck, he kissed her senseless. Pulling back to take a breath, he whispered. “I wish I didn’t have to leave you tomorrow.”

  Kissing her cheek, he said. “I’ll come calling next weekend.”

  Chapter Five

  As Chantilly made breakfast Monday morning, she couldn’t stop thinking about how Blaze’s kisses made her insides quiver.

  “Hey, sis,” her brother said from the table. “What’s gotten into you? You’re more skittish than a hen being chased by a fox.”

  “You surprised me, that’s all.” With a quick flick of her wrist, she salted the eggs. “Did you enjoy your time at the ranch?”

  “Boy, did I. Daniel and I raced horses by the river, and I won. Can you believe it?”

  She could believe Daniel lost on purpose.

  “Then, we watched cowboys breaking broncos. Daniel said I could try breaking one the next time I’m there. Figured I’d be a natural, what with all my know-how with horses.” His words spilled so fast he hardly paused for a breath. “Seein’ as the others were having trouble, he might let me tame Reckless.”

  “Reckless?” Her heart stopped. Experienced cowboys broke their necks on the backs of powerful horses with names like Reckless and Devil’s Due.

  “The bronc’s big and mean. Daniel says the right man can make him rideable. He says Jamey was gonna give him a try, but…”

  What was Daniel thinking? She counted to five and tried to sound calm. “Wouldn’t it be best to first practice on a lesser horse?”

  “No, sis. Daniel says I ain’t gonna need no practice.”

  Daniel had no business encouraging an inexperienced teen like Matt to try such foolish things. No way would her kid brother be visiting the Double-B any time soon—if she had any say about it.

  Matt dropped his fork, and it clanged on the floor.

  Her nerves jangled. That cowboy deserved a piece of her mind. “Is Daniel in town today?”

  “Yep. Said he’d come to the shop early.”

  “When you see him, tell him I’d like a word with him.”

  By the time she’d cleaned up the kitchen and walked out, she found Daniel waiting on a nearby bench at the side of the shop.

  She strode over to him. “How dare you put such fanciful ideas in Matt’s head? I can’t lose Matt to that killer beast, Reckless.”

  “Sweetness, calm down.” He smiled. Jamey’s warning came to her. Never trust a man with a ready smile. And Daniel’s smiles came as natural as blinking.

  “Calm down? Not when you’re telling Matt he’ll be riding a mean bronco with the name ‘Reckless’.” Her blood stewed.

  “Never said that. The boy’s smart about animals. Knows more than I’ll ever understand. He showed me his medical books on horses. I simply told him that with his smarts, I wouldn’t be surprised to see him tame a beast like Reckless with his wisdom.”

  “You’re right about him being smart.” She let out a long breath. “A few years back, Doc retired and gave Matt some old medical books—including ones about horses. Matt must’ve read his books ten times each.”

  “He’d make a fine vet. You should send him to a university.”

  “If only we had the money.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a sincere smile. “Tell you what. Let me take you to dinner tomorrow, and we’ll talk about it.”

  ****

  It had been dark for hours when Blaze arrived a day earlier in town than he’d planned, on Friday. After settling in at Missy’s Boarding House, he figured he might as well wet his whistle at the Golden Horseshoe Saloon. He put on his heavy coat and headed across the street.


  Inside, miners and cowboys leaned against the long, mahogany bar. Blaze slipped into an empty spot near the end.

  “What’ll it be sir?” The white-haired bartender’s yellow teeth matched his shirt.

  “Whiskey.” Blaze looked at the painting of a scantily clad woman behind the bar.

  “Four bits,” the bartender said.

  Charging fifty cents could be called thievery, but Blaze retrieved the money from his pocket and paid.

  The bartender handed him a glass. Blaze drank. The watered-down whiskey had a bite of chili pepper.

  Hearing cheers, he walked toward the Faro game. A buxom blonde in a skimpy outfit put her arm around Blaze’s shoulder. “Hey, handsome. How ’bout I show you a good time?” Her red lips and coal-black eyelashes cheapened the features of the young girl.

  “Not tonight.” He imagined Chantilly. Soft, untarnished, courageous.

  Somebody shouted, “Buck the tiger.” The people around the table cheered.

  A lanky fellow put down a few coins and took a swig from a whiskey bottle on the table.

  Blaze’s head nearly spun off his neck as he took a second look. Could that young man be Chantilly’s brother, Matt?

  The dealer called, “We’ve got ourselves a winner.”

  Blaze recognized Daniel who’d been trying to cozy up to Chantilly at the dance. “That’s the way to show ’em!” Daniel clapped the teen on his shoulder and walked out the back door.

  Matt’s eyes were unfocused. He stumbled toward the bar and hiccupped. “Another—hic—whiskey,” he called.

  The bartender handed him a glass.

  Blaze moved behind. “Hello, Matt.”

  “Blaze?” Matt turned, his words slurring more than a wet painting. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Just got in town.”

  “Daniel’s not gonna like it. He’s sweet on my sister, you know.” Matt swayed forward. “Why’s the room spinning?”

  Blaze steadied the teen. “Come along.”

  “I ain’t going nowhere with you.” Matt threw his drink in Blaze’s face. It dripped down his neck, soaking his shirt.

  Before something bad happened, Blaze had to get Matt out of there. “You’re feeling lucky. Let’s head on over to the Red Dawg.”

  “Gonna win big there, too.” Matt floundered forward as he tried to stand. Blaze wrangled Matt’s arm and led him out the back door.

  “Keep moving.”

  Outside his home, Matt said. “Shhh. Quiet, Blaze. We don’t want to wake my sister.” He tried to turn the knob, and shouted, “It won’t open.”

  “I’ll get it.” One turn, and Matt stumbled inside, knocking over a jar. It shattered with a thunderous clatter.

  “What’s going on?” Chantilly shrieked.

  Matt garbled, “We was having a little fun.”

  “We?” Wearing a long flannel nightgown, she eyed Blaze in the doorway. Her hair flowed down to her waist. “You were out with Blaze?”

  “Sure was.” Matt held out a handful of silver dollars. “He helped me win this.”

  She glared at Blaze like he’d had two horns and hoofed feet. “How dare you encourage my brother to gamble?”

  “I didn’t—”

  “You both stink like you bathed in whiskey,” she huffed.

  “But—”

  “I never want to see you again, Blaze. Stay away from my brother. Stay away from me.” Out of nowhere came a mighty shove. For such a bitty thing, she managed to push him backward.

  “Chantilly, you have to listen to me!”

  “No.” She grabbed a shotgun and aimed directly at his personal parts. “If you’re not out of here by the count of five, I’m pulling the trigger.”

  Blaze didn’t have to be told twice. His heart beat fast as he hightailed it out of there.

  He walked along the dirt alley. No woman had ever pointed a gun at him. Chantilly had been furious. She wouldn’t listen to him. How could she think he’d coerced Matt into wagering and became his roostering buddy?

  But I did smell guilty. Dang, Matt threw his drink at me.

  He made it to the boarding house and up the stairs to his room. He tugged off his boots.

  I’ll explain everything to her tomorrow.

  He took off his shirt.

  She’ll understand.

  He pulled off his pants

  Can’t blame her for protecting her brother.

  Stripped down to his long johns, he flopped onto a lumpy straw-filled mattress.

  Better get some shuteye. He closed his eyes and tried to doze.

  He imagined he was with Chantilly. Her eyes danced before him as she flipped her long braid behind her. He unraveled her hair and ran his fingers through the silky and soft tresses. He leaned in to kiss her. She cocked her gun.

  Blast.

  He woke with a start from the sound of a gunshot outside.

  No blood, just a dang dream.

  ****

  Saturday morning, Chantilly sifted through receipts on the desk. She wondered what kind of god would put her through such torture. She couldn’t lose Matt, too.

  A firm knock sounded on the door.

  The receipts fluttered to the floor in twisted loop-de-loops, like her twisted thoughts. “Who is it?”

  A low voice answered, “Blaze.”

  Last night, Blaze drank and gambled with her brother. His adventurous life no longer appealed to her. She didn’t need trouble—she needed security. Daniel could offer her that.

  Blaze said, “I’m heading out this morning, but had to see you before I left.

  She cautiously opened the door a few inches. “I have nothing to say to you.” She tried to close the door, but he stopped the movement with his foot.

  “Please, Chantilly, hear me out.” Desperation strained his tone. “I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

  His boot made some headway.

  “All right. Let’s go to the bench under the eucalyptus tree.” She waited for him to back up, then closed the door behind her. “This won’t change anything. I don’t abide with drunks, nor do I approve of how you encouraged my brother to gamble.”

  “I only drank one glass of watered-down rotgut.”

  “Likely story. You smelled like a whiskey still. My father was a drunk. He lied all the time.” She flounced onto the bench, then sat rigidly.

  He took a spot to her right.

  “Your brother was well into his cups when I got to the saloon. He threw his drink at my face because I tried to get him to go home.”

  “More lies.” She glared at him. “I’ve decided I’ll have a better future with Daniel. He’s a stable, upstanding citizen.”

  “Just like when Daniel congratulated Matt on his winnings.”

  She huffed. “I’m not buying your nonsense.”

  Blaze stood, folded his arms, and glared. “I don’t understand, Chantilly. I like you, and I’m quite certain you like me. I could tell you liked my kisses. Now, you say Daniel’s calling on you.”

  She had more than liked his kisses, but figured once she’d sampled Daniel’s kisses, she would probably like them well enough, too. “I can’t be with a man I don’t trust.”

  “I’d be careful about trusting Daniel.”

  “You’re jealous.”

  “Damn right, I’m jealous.” He paced in front of her. “Didn’t our dinner or dance or picnic together mean anything to you? It did to me.”

  She fought down her feelings for Blaze. “At the time I thought it did, but now I realize we want different things. We’re through.”

  “Don’t give up on me so quickly. Let that fiery temper of yours cool. Then read this.” He pushed his letter in her hand and walked away

  She fisted the letter.

  Footsteps scrunched on the ground behind her. She shoved the letter in her pocket and turned.

  “I saw your Pony Express fellow leaving.” Daniel stood next to her. “Everything okay?”

  “Just. Fine.” At least, it will be, onc
e I forget Blaze.

  “Mind if I have a seat?”

  She gave a backward Devil-may-care twist of her wrist. “Suit yourself—it’s empty.”

  “You seem shaken.” Daniel took her hand in his. “How ’bout I take you on a stroll to the bakery and buy you a cinnamon roll?”

  “I need to go inside and make breakfast for Matt.”

  “From what I heard about last night, he’d be better off sleeping.” He chuckled.

  She didn’t find Matt getting over a drunken stupor funny. Word had gotten to her that folks had been talking about Matt lately, probably comparing him to their pa.

  “Come on, you deserve something sweet.”

  “Alright, but I don’t want to be gone long.”

  Holding his arm as they walked along the dirt trail and up to the boardwalk, she glanced at Daniel. Her head reached the bottom of his chin. If she’d been walking with Blaze, her head would have met his shoulders. Daniel’s light hair was a sharp contrast to Blaze’s wavy dark locks.

  She shook her head. Quit thinking about Blaze. No use poisoning a dead mouse.

  “You look fetching this morning.”

  She wore her least favorite dress—the peach floral, that had mostly faded to beige. Her braided hair had been tied into a long ponytail. What could be fetching about her appearance?

  Relieved after passing the three saloons, they entered the bakery. Four round tables were covered with checkered tablecloths. Displayed on the counter were cakes, breads, and sweet rolls. The owner, Sally, wrapped an item in paper for an older couple, and they paid and walked out.

  Daniel led them to the table closest to the door and pulled out her chair. “I’d like to take you and Matt out to the ranch tomorrow. I know you’ve never been there.”

  “I’ve ridden past.”

  “That’s not quite the same. I’ve got new furnishings in the house. I’ll get my cook to make us lunch.” He took her hand and gazed into her eyes. His deep blue stare didn’t flicker. “Please, say you’ll go.”

  “Sure. I’m curious to see your big home on the hill.” He’d said he wanted to court her. Going to his home would be a natural step. Did she really want this?

  “Chantilly.” Sally wiped her hands on her apron. “Daniel. What can I get you two?”