by Kari Bovee
Snuggled into the covers, her eyes scanned the sanctuary she had called home for the past few weeks. She remembered how the opulence of this abode overwhelmed her when she first arrived. Never had she slept in a bed so comfortable and never had she had such fine clothing. It would all change in North Star, Ohio. There’s she’d be focused on getting food into everyone’s mouths and providing shelter. A bath in the creek would be a luxury. Her stomach churned at the thought of what lay ahead.
Suddenly very sleepy, she closed her eyes and drowsily listened to mumbling voices floating on the wind, lulling her into the twilight of dreamland. She relished how warm and secure she felt in her bed, falling asleep to Lillie softly snoring.
They all waited for her at the stagecoach—the Colonel, Rusty Post, Bobby, Lillie, Michante, Emma, and Chief Sitting Bull. Annie swallowed hard, afraid she would cry like a little girl. If only she could have stolen off into the night.
They each took turns saying goodbye. Bobby couldn’t look her in the eye, and Lillie had nearly soaked a hanky clean through by the time they hugged. The Colonel and Rusty Post were sweet and kind, but as dignified as ever. Emma chucked Annie under the chin, said she’d be in touch, and Chief Sitting Bull stood some feet away from the rest, his dancing eyes dulled with sadness. Annie approached him.
“Will you stay with the show?”
“Only in the hope that you will return, Watanya Cecilia.”
“I’m going to miss you, Chief,” Annie leaned closer to him, whispering, “more than I’ll miss anyone. You believed in me.”
“I still do.”
When his stoic face softened, Annie dropped her bag and flung her arms around the proud Chief’s torso. He wrapped his arms around her and patted her back three times. Those pats were loaded with the Chief’s sort of praise—at least to Annie.
“You must forgive Frank Butler.” The chief stood back and held Annie by the arms. “Even my medicine couldn’t fix his failing eyes.”
“Yes. I suspected it was poor eyesight. But Frank is gone. It’s too late for us.”
Once seated in the stagecoach, Annie looked out the window at the buffalo fighter, Indian chief, cowboy shooter, suffragette, and the wildest woman she’d ever known. They had become her family, and she would miss them terribly. When the stage jerked forward, Annie pressed her hand to the window and kept it there long after they were no longer in sight.
CHAPTER 28
“Sale—Cut Rate Prices: North Star Mercantile—Large Selection of Fowl and Game.”
Greenville Gazette – May 30, 1885
Six Weeks Later
The bells on the door of the Mercantile jingled as John Henry burst through, his face red with exertion and his hair matted to his forehead.
“Annie, I finished stacking the wood for Mr. Shaw. He said I could have a lollipop.”
Annie put down the broom and wiped her hands on her apron. She went behind the counter and reached into the jar of sweets.
“Where is Mr. Shaw?” She handed John Henry a red lollipop.
“Dunno. Can I go to the creek and fish for a little while? Maybe I’ll catch something for our dinner!”
Annie tousled his sweaty hair and smiled.
“Yes. Be careful. Mind the slippery rocks.”
John Henry turned and raced out the door, causing a melodious cacophony of bell ringing.
Annie resumed sweeping the floor, enjoying the whoosh-whoosh of the brush against the wooden planks, grateful that few people had visited the store that day. She didn’t want her quiet melancholy disturbed. She just wanted to tend to the mindless business of sweeping.
She and her family still lived in cramped quarters at the back of the store. Annie had given Mr. Shaw all the money she had left over from the show and resumed her task of hunting birds and game for the mercantile. He said they could stay as long as they needed, but Annie felt the call to move on to their own place. She just didn’t know yet how they would manage.
She stopped sweeping and lifted her nose into the air to enjoy a wonderful aroma wafting out of the store’s small kitchen. Annie looked up and saw her mother waving a towel in the air, shooing away smoke. Her face looked so offended by the smoke that Annie laughed.
Her mother turned. “Oh, Annie! I’m glad you’re here. I think I used some wet wood. See if you can find some drier logs, would you?”
“What are you doing, Mother?”
“Why, I’m making dinner, sugar.” Susan stopped her fanning and placed her hands on her hips.
“But—”
“Oh, stop gaping and get me that wood.”
Annie welcomed the bossiness in her mother’s voice. She hadn’t been up and around that long.
“But how are you feeling, Mother? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, lovey, just fine.” Susan’s face softened and her eyes drifted over to a tin vase filled with wildflowers. Annie stared at the flowers, then turned back to her mother.
“I have an admirer,” Susan said.
“What?” Annie hoped to God it wasn’t Joshua.
“Oh, don’t look so shocked, Annie. It’s Mr. Shaw. He brought me those flowers earlier and told me it was a glory that a fine woman like me was feeling so renewed.”
Annie blinked, not quite sure she could believe what she heard.
“Well, I, um, he’s right. So you’re—”
“Yes, my dear, I am restored, and I am thanking Mr. Shaw by making us all a hot meal. Do you think he’ll be pleased?”
Annie dropped the broom, rushed to her mother, and drew her into her arms.
“Yes, Mother, I think he’ll be very pleased, we’ll all be very pleased.”
The bells on the door sounded again and Mr. Shaw entered, his blue eyes dancing under thick brows, and a smile creasing his heavy cheeks. He wore a fine wool suit.
“Well, don’t you look dapper,” Annie said, smiling.
“It’s a special day, Annie. I have a surprise for you.”
Annie cocked her head. “What? What do you mean, Mr. Shaw? It’s enough that my mother is feeling restored, don’t you go teasing me.”
“I am not teasing you, young lady. Now, go get your finest dress and put it on.”
Annie knit her brows. She’d been hunting, fishing, cleaning, and cooking since she got back. Her old sackcloth dress had been more suitable than those fancy clothes. She hadn’t even opened the trunk full of dresses she’d brought back from St. Louis.
“Go, go, and hurry up about it.”
Annie quickly washed her face, changed her clothes, and brushed her hair. She’d even pinched the apples of her cheeks. When she returned, clothed in the green velvet dress, Mr. Shaw had just finished securing the “closed” sign on the door.
“There we go,” he said, shrugging, “we can close for a couple of hours.”
Susan came up behind them. “I can mind the store, if you like.”
“I wouldn’t want you to take time away from that wonderful cooking of yours.” Mr. Shaw removed his hat and smiled at Susan.
“Oh, Mr. Shaw.” Susan’s face turned an appealing shade of pink.
“What’s this surprise all about, Mr. Shaw?” Annie asked.
“Well, if I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it? You look real pretty in that dress, Annie, so let’s head on out.”
They climbed into his wagon and headed toward his farm.
“Where are we going with me in this fancy dress?” Despite her protest, Annie’s mood felt lighter than it had in a long time.
Mr. Shaw laughed and clucked to the horses.
“You’ll see, my dear. You’ll see.”
Another mile later, he drew the horses to a halt and turned to face Annie.
“You know Annie, your mother is doing well, and I see a future here for us together, her and John Henry and Hulda, but I can’t say the same for you.”
Annie sighed. “I don’t know where I belong anymore.”
“I do.” A note of mischievousness tinged his v
oice. “You belong in the Wild West Show, where you shined like a star.”
Annie noticed a man working on a fence in the distance.
“Who’s that?”
“A cowboy I hired to mend fences. I’ve been so busy at the store, I haven’t had time to repair them.”
Annie pulled at the lace at her neck. The sun beat down on the fabric of her dress, burning her skin, and she again wondered why Mr. Shaw felt she needed to be dressed up.
“We’ve all been busy, and I don’t understand why I had to put on a fancy dress to ride into the fields.”
Mr. Shaw chuckled. “Just take a look over there.” He pointed to a field on their right.
Annie saw horses, one a deep chestnut color and the other—a buckskin with four white socks. Annie peered harder.
“Buck,” she whispered, as she leapt off the wagon.
“Buck!” She shouted out to him, and the horse raised his head, whinnied loudly, and galloped towards them. They met within seconds at the fence. He nuzzled her as Annie ran her hands through his mane. “Buck, Buck, it’s you!” she exclaimed, bursting with happiness.
Annie lifted her gaze and saw the man who had been repairing the fence walking towards them. When he took off his hat and ran a hand through his thick blond hair, Annie gasped.
“Frank!”
He broke into a run and rushed to her, his hands stretched out and grabbing hers the instant he reached her.
“Hello, Annie, don’t you look beautiful, as always!” His startling blue eyes looked deep into hers.
“Frank Butler, what are you doing here?”
Frank flashed that gorgeous smile she loved so well.
“I had to bring a girl her horse. And, I have a question for you.”
“Yes?”
“Will you marry me, Annie Mosey?”
EPILOGUE
Annie ran out to the field behind the Mercantile where Frank worked at building the frame of their new house. They’d married two weeks ago during the Friends Monthly Meeting. It had been a simple ceremony, each reciting their vow to take each other as life partners with friends and family looking on.
She reached him out of breath, excited.
“A letter from the Colonel.” She thrust the letter at him.
Frank raised a hand to push his spectacles further up his nose.
“You read it, you’ve got better eyesight.” He winked at her.
Annie ripped it open, scanned it fast, and then, with her heart racing, looked up again at Frank.
“So, what’s the old codger got to say?” he asked, grinning.
“The Wild West show has been invited to London—to perform for the Queen! Queen Victoria herself asked about me, said she’d like me to stay in her palace, as her personal guest. And the Colonel wants us both to come back, you as my manager and me as the headlining sharpshooter.”
Frank studied her face, and she his.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“Manager of the famous Annie Oakley. London.” Frank shook his head, a look of awe in his eyes.
“Personal guest of the Queen,” Annie said with a laugh.
“Sounds like we have no choice.” Frank pulled Annie into his arms and swung her in a circle, their laughter echoing across the golden fields of North Star.
Acknowledgments
There are so many people who were instrumental in helping me to create this book centered on a plucky young girl from Ohio who became one of the most famous American women of all time.
First, I would like to thank Annie Oakley herself, for proving to the world that a woman can shine on her own in a career and vocation dominated by men. She was a maverick of her time, and a woman who persevered regardless of the challenges life presented to her. She was and continues to be an inspiration to me.
Next, I would like to thank my dear friend Becky Hopper, her husband, Don Hopper, and Jake Kettenacker of the Rio Grande Renegades chapter of the Single Action Shooting Society (SASS) for teaching me to shoot period weapons that Annie herself used. They also helped me with some of the research for other rifles and pistols that might have been used by Annie’s contemporaries and fellow showmen. I would also like to thank my equine veterinarian, Dr. Matt Paxton, and his wife, Laurie, for assisting me with my own horses and some of the research on equine health and hazards. They helped me put poor Buck through his paces, but the Wonder Horse lives on!
I would also like to thank my friends Debra Speck and Linda Cecil, who have been my some of my biggest cheerleaders and allies. Thank you for your belief in me and in my work. It is so appreciated. And thank you to Jon and Julia Patten, who always asked me to tell them what was happening in my writing life. Your interest and support has been wonderful.
Also, my undying gratitude goes to my two amazing critique partners, Dana Killion and Shelley-Blanton Stroud, who are incredible authors in their own right. You have been through it all with me—the ups, the downs, the tears, the frustrations, and the joy in this passion that we share! You are the best, and I hope we can continue to support each other throughout our careers. Write on, my friends—your talent needs to be shared with the world.
Most of all, I would like to thank my husband, Kevin, and my children, Jessica and Michael, for their continued belief in me, and for the times I was unavailable or inconsolable as I pursued my passion. You are my rock, my joy, my life. I love you. And thank you to my parents, Jim and Geri Cramer, who bestowed upon me a creative mind, a diligent work ethic, and a belief in myself that has made my dream of becoming an author possible. I hope I’ve made you proud.
And last, thank you to Brooke Warner, Lauren Wise, Crystal Patriarch, Tabitha Bailey, and the wonder team at Spark Press and Book Sparks. You have been amazing to work with.
About the Author
Empowered women in history, horses, unconventional characters, and real-life historical events fill the pages of Kari Bovée’s articles and historical mystery musings and manuscripts. Bovée is an award-winning writer: She was a finalist in the Romantic Suspense category of the 2012 LERA Rebecca contest, the 2014 NTRWA Great Expectations contest, and the RWA 2016 Daphne du Maurier contest for her unpublished manuscript Grace in the Wings. She was also honored as a finalist in the NHRWA Lone Star Writer’s contest in 2012 with the unpublished manuscript of Girl with a Gun. Bovée and her husband, Kevin, live in New Mexico with their cat, four dogs, and four horses. Their children, who live happy lives as productive entrepreneurs and professionals, are their greatest achievements.
SELECTED TITLES FROM SPARKPRESS
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Visit us at www.gosparkpress.com
A Dangerous Woman from Nowhere, Kris Radish, $16.95, 978-1-943006-26-7 When her husband is kidnapped by ruthless gold miners, frontier woman Briar Logan is forced to accept the help of an emotionally damaged young man and a famous female horse trainer. On her quest to save her husband, she discovers that adventures of the heart are almost as dangerous as tracking down lawless killers.
Hidden, Kelli Clare, $16.95, 978-1-943006-52-6
Desperate after discovering her family murdered, a small-town art teacher runs to England with a handsome stranger in search of safety and answers in this suspenseful, sexy tale of treachery and obsession—perfect for fans of Sandra Brown and Ruth Ware.
Learning to Fall, Anne Clermont. $16.95, 978-1940716787
A behind-the-curtains peek into the glamorous but often heartbreaking world of competitive show jumping, Learning to Fall is a universal story of healing, hope, and what it means to love.
Found, Emily Brett, $16.95, 978-1940716800
Immerse yourself in life-changing adventures from a nurse’s perspective while experiencing the local color of countries around the world. Found will appear to not only medical professionals but those who are drawn to suspense, romance, adventure, and self-di
scovery.
The Year of Necessary Lies, Kris Radish. $17, 978-1-94071-651-0
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