Mayme giggled. “Don’t want that.”
“No, you don’t. Especially if you’re standing in a field of cactus. So stand with your legs apart. Like the distance they’d be when you’re on a horse. Now point your toes in the direction you’re going to shoot.”
Mayme followed his instructions. She glanced down at her feet and then at Mr. Smart who nodded his approval.
“Now, this is the tricky part. You have to put the butt in the pocket of your shoulder. The recoil will be absorbed by your body.”
Mayme lifted the rifle up and settled it against her shoulder. With a few minor adjustments from Mr. Smart, she practiced raising the gun up and fitting it where it belonged. After a few times it fell comfortably into place.
“Relax your neck and let your cheek fall naturally to the stock. This will help you line up the sights and aim correctly. Put your finger on the trigger and squeeze it slowly. Your aim is dependent on both these things.”
Mr. Smart pulled two bullets from his pocket. “Watch me as I load mine and then you do the same.” He opened the action and slipped the bullet in, with the pointed end facing the end of the barrel. After locking it in, he handed her the other bullet and looked at her expectantly.
Amazed her hands weren’t shaking like before, with unhurried, relaxed movements, she loaded the gun. She adjusted her stance and aimed at the row of cans Mr. Smart had lined up on a fallen log. She rehearsed every step in her mind before executing it.
“When you’re ready to squeeze the trigger, exhale slowly. Your body is at its stillest when you’re at the bottom of that breath.”
Mayme lowered the gun and took a couple deep breaths.
“You can do this, Mayme. You’re handling the gun picture perfectly.”
She barely noticed the loud gun blast as the can she aimed at popped off the log. “Oh my God! I did it!”
“Yes, you did. That was wonderful shooting. Ready for another?”
Mayme answered him by holding her hand out for another bullet. She smiled mischievously as he handed her four.
In her excitement she missed the next two times. But redeemed herself when she figured out what she’d done wrong, corrected it, and shot the remaining bullets. Both resulted in the cans flying off the log from the impact of the bullets.
Mr. Smart clapped her on the back. “You, my dear, are a natural. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were Annie Oakley’s sister.”
Mayme beamed.
They took turns shooting and didn’t stop until they were both out of bullets.
The birds had long since fled after the first shot. The acrid sour smell of gunpowder lingered around them, masking the muskiness of the woods.
Mr. Smart looked to the sky with some concern. “It’s getting late. We should pack up. I want to get you home before dark.”
“Can we do this again?” Mayme leaned the gun against the wagon and bent to pick up the spent shells that littered the ground.
“I’ve had such a good time today, I think we should.” He put two fingers to his mouth and whistled.
Ox raised his head, revealing the long grass drooping down both sides of his mouth. He whinnied and trotted toward them.
They were on their way back to town in short order. Mayme’s shoulder was a tad sore, but she was sure it wasn’t too awfully bruised. The shooting had felt good, once she got over her fear, that is.
Chapter Nine
THE SUN WAS just beginning to set when Mr. Smart stopped the wagon in front of the house. Ox tossed his head and pawed the ground.
“He wants to go home, doesn’t he?”
“It’s his oats he wants. Spoiled bugger.”
Despite his gruff voice, Mayme knew Mr. Smart adored the horse. It was plain in the careful way he behaved around Ox. He’d placed the harness on his back with care, making sure all his hair was straight, and he’d gently pried Ox’s mouth open to insert the bit. But most notable were the gentle strokes and quiet murmuring Mr. Smart did when standing at Ox’s head. It made her smile to know he was such a gentle man.
“See you tomorrow morning.” Mayme hopped off the wagon and walked to the front where she gave Ox a kiss on the nose. “You’re a very sweet boy. Mr. Smart is lucky to have you.”
She trotted up to the porch and waved.
Mr. Smart tipped his hat and flapped the reins over Ox’s back. The horse gathered his haunches, pushed into the harness, and moved into a trot toward the direction of home.
“WHERE HAVE YOU been all day?” Iris swung the door open with such momentum it slammed into the side of the house with a loud bang. She cringed. “Oops.”
Mayme grabbed onto Iris’ arm and held on. “You have no idea how much fun I had today! Mr. Smart taught me to shoot a gun. At first I was scared as heck, but, Iris, I’m good at it!” She knew she was babbling like a rushing creek but she could not contain her excitement.
“Wait. You did what? A gun? Whatever possessed you to do such a thing?” Iris frowned at her.
“Mr. Smart wanted me to learn about guns so I could do my job better. But we had such a good time that we’re going to target shoot every Sunday.”
Iris looked her up and down and a slow smile crossed her face. “I’ve never known anyone like you, Mayme Watson.”
The setting sun reflected orange and red in the windows.
“Let’s watch the sun set.” Mayme pulled her down to sit on the porch step. She leaned back on her elbows and stretched her legs in front of her. “It’s so beautiful here.”
“Seeing it through your eyes makes me realize how I take this for granted.” Iris straightened her dress over her knees and reclined next to Mayme.
“Look,” Mayme said, pointing skyward. “That’s the North Star. Did you know that the entire sky revolves around that star? It never moves. That’s why people use it to navigate.”
“How do you know all this stuff? I never learned any of that in school.”
“I guess it’s because I’ve always researched stuff when I’m curious about something.”
“You did good in school, didn’t you?”
“I did all right. I loved science and math, but the girls’ classes were different from the boys. The girls were supposed to devote themselves to learning how to cook and sew. That was extremely boring. But during science class, I’d write down questions about stuff so I’d remember to look it up in the library during study hall. It used to make me so mad at how much more the boys got to learn. It was all the cool stuff like farming, animal husbandry, and carpentry.”
“You’re such a tom boy.” Iris shoved Mayme with her shoulder.
“No, I’m not. I’m just interested in more things than subjects that keep me in the house. I like being outside.” She turned her head. “You know, I used to be so angry and sad that my parents sent me out here. But to tell you the truth, this is the best thing that could’ve happened to me.”
“I have a hard time believing that.” Iris sat up and rubbed her arms.
“No, seriously. My future, in fact, my entire life would’ve been dictated by my last name. Out here, I can make my own decisions. Good or bad, right or wrong, they’re my choices.”
In the receding light, Mayme could make out an odd expression on Iris’ face. “What?”
“I don’t know what to think. Part of me is jealous you have the freedom to do all that, and the other part thinks you’re completely insane to want to try. At any rate, can we go inside? I’m getting cold and your dinner probably is too.”
THE NEXT SIX days flew by at warp speed. The mercantile was so busy with new sales and customers picking up backorders that neither Mayme nor Mr. Smart had energy at the end of the day to say anything other than a bid goodnight.
When she arrived home each night, Mayme ate dinner and then went to bed. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
Business slowed to a more manageable pace by Friday, and she found the stamina to relax in a hot bath after dinner.
Mayme finished wa
shing her hair, and she heard a knock on the door. She slid deeper into the bathtub so only her neck and head were above the soapy water.
“Come in.” She rubbed a sponge over her arm.
Mrs. Randall opened the door and stuck her head in. “Mayme, may we have a word?”
“Is there something wrong?” She sat up quickly. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub and pooled at the clawed feet.
“Nothing serious.” Mrs. Randall slipped through the doorway and closed the door behind her. She scooted the three-legged stool next to the bathtub and sat down. “I’m concerned you’re working too hard at the mercantile. You’ve lost weight and have been very quiet as of late. Is Mr. Smart treating you fairly?”
Mayme leaned back into the water. “I have to admit, it’s been crazy busy at work. Mr. Smart is probably much more tired than I am at the end of the day. He’s a very nice man by the way. There’s really no need to worry.”
“Are you feeling well? Maybe we should have a doctor check you over.”
“Whatever for?” Mayme cocked her head.
“Darling girl, in case you haven’t noticed, your clothes hang on you like a ragamuffin. A young woman should maintain a certain plumpness about her. It shows off her figure, if you know what I mean.”
Mayme was aware she had slimmed down, but with all the work she’d also tightened up muscles. She figured she was stronger than she’d ever been. Even when she’d been going to the stables on a daily basis, the work she was allowed to do didn’t compare to what she was involved in now.
“I feel fine, Mrs. Randall. Honest. I’m happy with how I look.” She glanced at her arms. The muscles stood out without flexing and she had to admit she was quite proud of them.
“Well, you shouldn’t be. My lord, your breasts are nothing but small mounds with a cherry pit planted on top. You can’t possibly expect a man to be attracted to someone who resembles more a boy than a girl.”
Mayme conscientiously crossed her arms over her chest and met Mrs. Randall’s eyes. “When I first came here, you gave me the impression that acquiring a job and becoming my own person was a priority. I get the feeling you’re trying to marry me off now. Truthfully, I’m not interested in finding a husband in the immediate future.” If at all, really.
Mrs. Randall tipped her head back and sighed with exasperation. “You are a very strong woman. Not just physically, but mentally as well. To be honest, you remind me a lot of myself when I was your age.”
“Then why the interrogation?” The bath water was beginning to cool and gooseflesh peppered her shoulders and arms. But Mayme was determined to finish this conversation. She knew if she made a move to get out, Mrs. Randall would quickly excuse herself to give her privacy.
“My mother, God rest her soul, hated that I’d rather be out in the fields with my father plowing than helping her bake and learning all the basics of housekeeping. She convinced my father that I’d end up an old spinster if I kept it up.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The thing is, she was right. When I started doing things her way, I met a wonderful man who made me happy. I want the same for you.”
“I’m not ready for an existence like that. Since I’ve been here, I’ve learned to enjoy life on my terms and not my parent’s. It’s funny because I was just talking to Iris about that not too long ago.”
“Yes. I know. My daughter idolises you, you know.”
Suddenly it dawned on her. “This isn’t all about me, is it? You’re concerned Iris may try to emulate me.”
Mrs. Randall averted her eyes. “You should get out of that cold water or you’ll catch your death.” She rose and, without another word, walked out the door.
Mayme shook her head. It was now clear Mrs. Randall wanted to mold Iris to her own conformations. A wave of sadness and frustration rushed over her. Iris should be allowed to become her own woman. But that wasn’t for her to decide.
While she dried herself with a rough towel, she let her thoughts wander. Should she follow Mrs. Randall’s advice to look and act like a girl shopping for a husband? Search for someone to take care of her? She envisioned wearing proper dresses, spending long hours in the kitchen, mending a husband’s clothing. She shuddered in revulsion at the thought of sharing a bed, her body in a sweaty coupling primarily for bearing a son to carry on the family name.
No. That was not who she was or who she wanted to be. She’d have to find another way to avoid the pressures of social conformity.
SUNDAY FINALLY ARRIVED and as usual she flew through her morning chores, barely tasting the fresh bread slathered with butter that accompanied bacon and eggs.
Since their talk, Mayme had tried to appease Mrs. Randall somewhat by donning nice dresses at mealtimes and forcing herself to eat a bit more. After she excused herself from the table, she ran upstairs to change into trousers and boots, grab the hat Mr. Smart had given her, and dart out whatever door Mrs. Randall wasn’t close to.
She arrived, out of breath from running and the exhilaration of anticipating the day, and found Ox and the wagon but no Mr. Smart. A wave of disappointment washed through her at the thought of being late. She’d woken before sunrise and she couldn’t remember anything that would’ve disrupted her morning routine. Ready to apologize for her tardiness, she entered the mercantile.
She nearly collided with Mr. Smart as she walked out of the back room.
“Oh! Goodness, you surprised me.”
“Good morning, Annie.” Mr. Smart had taken to calling her that since their first shooting session. But only in private, of course.
“I’m so sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not. I got here early to organize a few things before we left.”
“I see.”
“I thought we’d do something different today.”
Mayme furrowed her brows. “What do you have in mind?”
He shot a devilish grin her way as he walked toward the door. “You’ll see.”
Instead of directing the wagon through town, Mr. Smart turned the wagon in the opposite direction.
“Gee!”
Ox immediately turned right onto a dirt path Mayme hadn’t noticed before.
“You’re not even going to give me a little hint?”
“Nope.” He shoved his hat firmly onto his hat. “Hang on.” He clucked twice and Ox tossed his head and extended his stride into a ground-covering trot.
Mayme was thrown against the back of the bench. She held onto her hat with one hand and the edge of the seat with the other.
“Hey, wait a minute. The only time I’ve ever seen Ox so excited is when he thinks he’s heading home.” She glanced at Mr. Smart who showed no clue as to where they were going.
The prairie spread out on both sides. Shadows of clouds wandered over the short grasses. A small herd of pronghorns bounded away, frightened by the rattling wagon. Their white rumps resembled huge powder puffs that acted as an alarm device to all the others in the area. Ox merely snorted at them and picked up his speed a little more.
A rustic cabin came into view as they crested a small knoll. Erected a short distance from it stood a barn with a large coral built onto it. Four wildly spotted horses, mares, Mayme assumed because of the foals at their sides, trotted to the gate to watch their arrival. The horses shared the enclosure with a cow who paid them no attention.
“This is your farm? It’s beautiful.” She looked in awe at the expanse of land. Surrounded on three sides by the rich grasses of the prairie, the buildings sat comfortably tucked into a U-shaped area cut into the woods.
Ox snorted and tossed his head as Mr. Smart pulled him to a halt. “Yep, this is home. For as far as your eye can see.”
Mayme closed her eyes and took a deep appreciative breath. Although it was warm, she caught brief whiffs of cold air as it was forced down the mountains by the rising thermals.
“There’s nothing like this back east. I could ride for days out here and never get tired of it.” Once again she was hit with
a feeling of nostalgia, one that nearly only now surfaced when she thought of the long hours on Blaze’s back. She rubbed her arm absently to focus on something other than the thickness in her throat.
“Before I opened the store, I used to do just that. I’m not sure why, but not so much anymore. But I’m thinking that may be about to change.” He slapped the reins over Ox’s back. “Come on. Let’s get up.”
Ox needed no encouragement and lunged into a trot.
The corralled horses pranced and whinnied to their herd mate as they approached the homestead.
A loud bang echoed from within the barn followed by a deep guttural neigh.
“That’d be Cloud. He’s not too fond of being stalled and separated from his mares.”
“Those are his foals then?” She leaned forward to get a better look. All four foals were nearly identical in appearance. Aside from the placement of black spots on their white rumps, they sported varying shades of black from nose to flank.
“Doesn’t matter what the mare looks like, Cloud stamps his offspring just like you see them. Every once in a while he lets them have a blaze, star, or a snip on their faces, but more times than not, they’re solid black.”
“Beautiful. Just beautiful.” Mayme jumped off the wagon and walked the short distance to the coral. The mares paid her no attention. Their attention was solely on Ox. Yet the foals eyed her suspiciously from various positions around their dams. She stuck her hand through the bars and wiggled her fingers to see if she could entice any of them to approach her.
Before too long, a red-spotted mare took three steps toward Mayme. She paused briefly, nickered encouragement to the filly who’d beforehand peered from beneath her belly and advanced toward Mayme’s fingers.
“That’s Rooster.”
“That’s a funny name for a mare.” Mayme turned her head and was surprised to see Mr. Smart had yet to get off the wagon. “Shouldn’t I have gotten down?”
“You’re fine. I wanted to see how the horses reacted to you and you to them. Some people claim to be horse savvy until they’re around them. The real test will come when you meet Cloud. He’s a great judge of character.”
After a Time Page 8