by Kit Morgan
A flash of lightning confirmed his words, followed by a crack of thunder. Ryder jumped at the sound. “Oh no!”
“What? You ain’t afraid of a little thunder? That ain’t like you, boy.”
“No, it’s not that, I left … something out on the prairie.”
“What? Well the rain ain’t gonna hurt it.”
“It might. I’d better go fetch it. You plannin’ on stayin’ the night?”
“Of course, you don’t expect me to go back up in those hills in a down pour do ya?”
Ryder groaned. “No, I guess I can’t expect you to do that. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He left, wondering why he didn’t tell the old man he’d just gotten married. But he somehow felt it wouldn’t be right, and he didn’t want Cutty to feel put out by his new bride. However, this did propose a problem when it came to the sleeping arrangements. Cutty was happy to sleep on a pallet on the cabin floor, while Ryder occupied his cot. What was Constance going to think about sharing the one room cabin with company? Because of the leaky roof, Cutty would have to shove his pallet closer to Constance and Ryder’s bed.
He pushed the thought aside as he mounted his horse, the rain starting to fall in big fat drops, and galloped away to fetch his bride. By the time he got back to where he’d left her, she was drenched.
“Ryder!” she called. “Where have you been? Is everything all right?”
He inwardly smiled, she wanted to make sure things were okay at the ranch instead of complain about being left out on the prairie in a downpour. “Everything’s fine.” He reached down, and in one swift move, pulled her up to sit sideways in front of him. She was on his lap, wedged between him and the saddle horn. He put both arms around her and turned Banjo toward home. “I must look a fright!” she yelled over the pounding rain. “I dare say, but I’m glad there’s a fire at your cabin.”
“That’s not all that’s at my cabin. We got company.”
“Company?”
“Cutty from up the hill come down for a visit. He’s harmless, but kinda smells. I hope you don’t mind. I can’t expect him to go home in this. He’s likely to catch his death.”
“You mean there’s a man in your cabin?”
“Yep. But like I said, he’s harmless. Cutty wouldn’t hurt a fly. You’ve seen him before, at the mercantile.”
She looked at him. “If you say so, but where will he sleep? Do you have a guest room?”
Ryder looked at her as they rode. Her curls had dropped from their pins and were now plastered to her face and neck, and her dress was soaked through. Thank Heaven the bodice was made from some sort of brocade, otherwise a man could see right through …
“Dagnabbit!”
“What now?” she asked.
“You got any other clothes?”
“She looked at herself. “No, I’m afraid I’ll have to stay in the kitchen and dry off.”
“Well, there might be a problem with that.”
“What sort of problem?” she asked as her teeth began to chatter.
“I ain’t got no kitchen.”
“No kitchen? Then wha … wha … what do you have?”
“That,” he said as he brought Banjo to a stop in front of his cabin.
* * *
Constance turned, blinked water from her eyes, and stared at the tiny ramshackle structure before her. Her heart sank as her head began to swim. He couldn’t possibly be serious! That was his house? It looked to be little more than a shack. There wasn’t even glass in the windows yet. “Oh dear me …”
“I know it ain’t much, but it will be.”
She turned and gave him a half-smile. “Of course it will.”
He helped her slide off his horse, then dismounted to stand beside her. “I’ll introduce you to Cutty, then take care of Banjo here.” He took her hand and led her to the small porch. There would be no guest room, no separate kitchen, and no way to properly dry off, if her guess was right. Sure enough, he pulled her through the door into a one-room cabin that was little more than fourteen by fourteen feet square. The only furniture was a table and two chairs, and a cot shoved against one wall. Several buckets were set about the space, all quickly filling with water from the leaky roof.
“Is that what you left out on the prairie?” Cutty asked in shock.
“Sure is. Meet my bride, Miss Constance Sayer,” Ryder told him. “On second thought, better make that Mrs. Jones.”
Cutty looked at her in stunned silence for a moment, his mouth agape, before he snapped it shut and stood. “Er, pleased to meet ya, ma’am.” He smiled, and she was surprised how clean his teeth appeared in contrast to the rest of him. As if they were the only things he had any sense to take care of.
She curtsied without thinking, and noticed the huge puddle she was making on the floor. “I … I’m please to make your acquaintance … Mr. Cu … Cu…”
“Land sakes, woman! I gotta get you dry!” Ryder exclaimed as he pried the basket from her cold fingers and set it on the table. “Come stand by the stove and get warm.”
“She ain’t gonna get warm in those wet clothes,” Cutty said with a smile. “Best she take em off.”
Ryder’s head snapped around to him. “Then you’d best step outside, hadn’t ya?”
“Cutty put his feet back on the table. “Don’t mind me, boy. I’m fine where I am.”
Constance watched as anger flashed through Ryder’s body like the lightning outside. “My wife is not undressing in front of you,” he said, his voice laced with warning.
“I was just makin’ a suggestion that she take em off, I didn’t say she had to. She stands in front of the stove long enough, she’ll get dry … eventually.”
“She’ll catch her death. She needs dry clothes.”
“I … I don’t think …” Constance snapped her mouth shut against her chattering teeth. “I have any.”
“Then you’ll have to wear some of mine.” He went to the trunk at the end of his cot, and pulled out his spare shirt and pants. “Cutty and I are gonna go to the barn and take care of the stock. You change.”
She nodded, water dripping from her everywhere, as Ryder grabbed the man Cutty by the arm, pulled him out of his chair, and shoved him toward the door. She swallowed hard as the door shut, and reached for the shirt and pants Ryder had tossed onto the table. She took them, spied the basket, and out of curiosity, peeked inside. “Oh thank the Lord!”
A simple dress was folded on top of the napkins, underneath of which was the food. She snatched the calico dress out of the basket, shook it out, and held it to her chest. Never in her life had she been so happy to see such a simple, frock. It beat wearing a man’s clothes, even if they were her new husband’s. But she knew she would feel better if she could wear a dress.
As quickly as she could, she got out of her wedding attire, no mean feat by her own admission, and donned the blue calico Sadie had given her. It was one of Sadie’s old work dresses, and had seen better days, but it would do for tonight or whenever she got the rest of her things. She draped her soggy wedding dress over one of the kitchen chairs and pulled it over by the stove to dry. She then looked again into the basket. There was fried chicken, a pie, a few raw vegetables, and some eggs. They both guessed right, and she supposed that now she owed her new husband a kiss. When she was going to give that kiss with the smelly stranger in the house, she had no idea, and recalled that Cutty lived in the hills beyond Ryder’s ranch, and that he came down now and then to help Ryder out around his place. That’s probably what he was doing there, and from the looks of things, Ryder Jones needed all the help he could get.
* * *
Ryder fought the urge to tell Cutty to go home, but the thunder, lightning, and pouring rain prevented him. He couldn’t send the old man out in this storm, it just wouldn’t be right. He’d catch his death and die out in the woods somewhere, and Ryder didn’t want that on his conscious.
“I’m sorry Ryder if I insulted ya back there,” Cutty said, breaking into his thoughts.
“I ain’t seen a pretty gal in a long time. Not up close anyway.”
“You saw my wife and her sisters not two weeks ago in the mercantile.”
“Yeah, but it ain’t like seeing a pretty gal up close.”
Ryder sighed. “Cutty, I just got married …”
“I understand, I don’t mean to be a nuisance it being your weddin’ night and all. I can always sleep out here in the barn.”
Ryder stared at him. Now why didn’t he think of that? “Would you?”
“Of course I would, heck, I remember what it was like when I was a younger man. I admit I’m old, but I’m not that old.”
Ryder stared at him, unsure of his meaning. “How old are ya?”
Cutty glanced his way, then took a sudden interest in unsaddling Banjo. “Old enough to know better, but young enough to enjoy myself.”
Ryder laughed. “Good answer. Now, let’s get these horses taken care of. Folks from town sent out a basket of food, I’m sure there’ll be enough for all of us.”
“That was right kindly of them. You know I’m not one to turn down food.”
“I know,” Ryder said dryly. “I’ll have to hunt soon, I don’t fancy a trip to town just now.”
“That pretty little wife of yours know how to cook?”
Ryder straightened and hung Banjo’s bridle up on a wooden peg. “We’re gonna find out.”
Cutty’s lip curled. “I have a feelin’ that means no.”
Ryder smiled. “Like I said, we’re gonna find out.”
“Them English ladies don’t know much of anything do they? For instance, I doubt any of em would survive out on the prairie by themselves.”
“I aim to remedy that,” Ryder told him. “No wife of mine is gonna be some coddled fancy woman. She’s gonna learn to hunt, shoot a gun, and ride.”
Cutty’s smile broadened. “Sounds like a lot of ways to kill her.”
Ryder stared at him, his brow raised. “What do you mean by that?”
Cutty shrugged. “To me it sounds like trouble. Women shouldn’t handle weapons, hunt, or ride. Why, she could get bucked off a horse and break her neck, or shoot herself in the foot, or worse, shoot you in the foot!”
Ryder shook his head. “You’re not thinking this through. This far from town a woman needs to know how to do all those things and more. It’s a hard life out here.”
“Well, I’m just sayin’ a lot could happen to a sissy priss like the one you married. All kinds of things, snake bites, mountain lions ...”
“You make it sound like something’s definitely gonna happen to her.”
Cutty shrugged again and smiled. “Ya just never know out here. I’d rather ya be prepared than it come as a shock if somethin’ were to happen. After all, you’re my friend, ain’t ya?”
Ryder eyed him. As much as he hated to admit it, he had a point. Living out where he did was rough, and Constance wasn’t exactly prime prairie bride material. A lot could happen to her if she wasn’t careful. “You’re right. I’ll be sure to keep an extra sharp eye out from now on.”
Cutty’s smile vanished. “You do that.”
They finished their work in the barn, and went back to the cabin to eat and get a blanket for Cutty. At least he’d be comfortable and dry, and Ryder could have some privacy with his wife. He might have a decent wedding night after all.
Unfortunately, by the time they returned to the cabin, his dear sweet wife was sneezing so hard she could barely talk. He noticed she was wearing a dress as she pointed to the table where she’d laid out the food, then blew her nose in one of the napkins from the picnic basket. “You okay?” he asked.
“No,” she said then started to cough. “I think … cough … I caught a chill.”
Cutty smiled at her. “Now ain’t that too bad.”
“Here, sit by the stove where it’s warm,” Ryder told her as he pulled her toward the chair where her wedding dress was hung.
“You haven’t any glass in your windows,” she said as a gust of wind blew into the room.
Ryder gritted his teeth. “I will, sugar, you’ll just have to be patient.”
“I know you will … cough … but what are we going to do in the mean time?”
“Don’t you worry none, I’ll take care of it,” he said. He could always go to the bank and take out a loan. He’d already spent the money he earned working on the hotel to raise his barn and purchase Othello from Duncan Cooke a couple of years ago. Duncan’s horse Romeo was Othello’s sire, and now that the horse was old enough, he could start doing some serious breeding. In the mean time he had a little money set aside, but didn’t want to spend it on the cabin, it was for the ranch. He’d need more fencing, and a wagon. What were a few windows compared to that?
“I’ll just mosey on out to the barn,” said Cutty as he grabbed a chicken leg with one hand and a piece of pie with the other. “You two have a good night.”
Ryder fetched him a blanket off the cot, folded it up, and stuck it under Cutty’s arm. “You too. Stay warm. Looks like this rain is gonna go on all night.”
Cutty looked through the open window. “Yep, sure am glad I’m in that nice dry barn. You two have fun now, ya hear?”
“Dry barn?” Constance asked.
“Sure, ain’t all drafty like in here.”
Ryder closed his eyes at Cutty’s remark. Did he have to say it that way?
Constance shivered in her chair. “The barn is dryer and warmer than the house?”
“It’s only because it has …” Ryder hesitated to say it, “… completed windows.”
“With shutters,” Cutty was quick to add.
“The barn has windows but the house doesn’t?” she squeaked.
“It will sugar, now let’s get you warm. Good night, Cutty.”
Cutty smiled one last time, then headed for the door. Ryder stared after him as he began to rub his wife’s arms. Was the man trying to ruin his wedding night? Or was he that ignorant of what he was saying?
“Don’t most people finish their house first, then put up a barn?” Constance asked as she shivered.
“I did things backwards I guess. I didn’t want Othello to be out in the bad weather. He’s my living ya know.”
“Othello?”
“He’s my stud horse. The one I’m gonna use for breedin’?”
“You named your horse after one of Shakespeare’s tragedies?”
“Shake-who?”
“Oh dear me, I do believe I feel faint.”
“Faint?” Ryder asked in shock. “Whatcha gonna faint for?”
“Your horses are better housed than we are!”
Ryder grabbed the other chair from the table and set it next to hers. “C’mon sugar, the house will be great when it’s done, you’ll see.”
She looked at him. “Why do you call me that?”
“What?”
“Sugar, I find it … interesting to be called that. Do I resemble something sweet?”
He stared at her and smiled. “You have no idea,” he said, his smile broadening. “It means I like ya.”
“Ohhhh,” she said with a nod. “What then, shall I call you?”
“Ryder, unless you think up something else.”
“Your American terms of endearment are quite different than those back in England. I’ve never heard anyone called ‘Sugar’ before.”
“I can call ya somethin’ else if you like,” he said as he inched closer.
“No, let us stick with your original … nick name. And in time I shall think up one for you.”
Ryder grinned in delight. She was blushing again. “Whatever you say … Sugar.” He put an arm around her. “What say we eat somethin’ and go to bed? It is our weddin’ night after all.”
She glanced to the food and swallowed hard. “Oh, yes, I’m quite famished … cough …” She had to cover her mouth while she hacked away. She blew her nose again in a most un-lady like fashion, then forced a smile. Her nose had swelled up and was red from her sneezing. “Maybe I s
hould just go to bed?”
Ryder sighed. “Let’s make sure you’re warm and fed, then you can have the cot.”
“What about you? Aren’t you going to sleep too?”
“Nope.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Fix them windows for ya, Sugar, so you don’t freeze to death tonight. It’s getting’ mighty cold outside. Wouldn’t surprise me if we wake up to a late snow.”
“Snow? This time of year?”
“It’s barely June, it can still snow.”
“Oh dear!”
“Don’t you worry none, I’ll be back to keep ya warm,” he told her with a wink.
She blushed a bright red. “I’m afraid I haven’t any night clothes.”
“You won’t need none, it’s our weddin’ night.”
She weaved to one side. His arm shot out and he grabbed her to pull her up right. “You ain’t gonna faint are ya?”
“I … I … oh bother!” She sniffed once, twice, before the floodgates opened. She buried her face in the napkin and blew her nose again through her tears.
“Now what’s wrong?” Ryder asked in exasperation.
She looked at him first before her eyes darted around the near empty cabin. “I just thought … I thought …”
He watched her a moment as she glanced about, and put two and two together. She didn’t want to be there, it was too uncomfortable for her, and he hadn’t given her comfort a second thought. He figured what was good enough for him would be good enough for her. And why shouldn’t it? The way she was acting in town and all fired up to marry him, he figured she had to be his kind of woman. But no, this wasn’t right, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about it, other than the obvious.
He got up, went to a wooden box by the door, and began to sift though it. He pulled out a hammer and some nails. “I’ll fix the windows so it’s not so drafty. You eat somethin’ ya hear?”
She nodded, shivered again, and with a shaking hand, reached for the food on the table.
Ryder wanted to hit himself in the head with the hammer at his own selfishness. Up until now the elements didn’t bother him. But marriage meant life wasn’t about only him anymore. It was about her as well. He took one last look at her shaking form, then spun on his boot heel and left the cabin for the barn. Whatever it took, he’d make his new bride comfortable and give her the home she deserved. He just hoped he could do it before she got to the point where she wanted to leave.