After a Time

by Laurie Salzler

  Her breath caught in her throat. “I’ve never been around a stallion before.”

  “Then you’re even. Cloud has never been around a woman before.” He offered a reassuring smile. “You’ll be fine. I wouldn’t put you in any kind of danger.”

  Mayme nodded and turned her attention to the mare who wiggled her nose against her hand. The filly watched intently just out of reach.

  “When Rooster was a yearling she used to take it upon herself to jump the fence early in the morning. She somehow figured out how to get the cabin door open and from there she’d whinny at me until I got up to feed her.”

  Mayme laughed. She scratched beneath Rooster’s jowls and watched in delight as the horse closed her eyes and extended her neck forward for more.

  “She’s taken quite a liking to you.” Mr. Smart jumped down from his seat and proceeded to unhook Ox from the wagon. He slid the harness off and draped it over the shaft.

  After his bridle was removed Ox walked over to the coral. All the foals, including Rooster’s filly left their dams and pushed against each other to vie for Ox’s attention.

  Mayme looked on in amazement. “He’s like a favorite uncle.”

  “Yep. I have no idea why, but every foal ever born here has been totally infatuated with him. It makes weaning really easy.”

  A long tongue wrapped around Mayme’s wrist from behind her. She turned quickly and saw the tongue was attached to the cow she’d noticed from afar. Only now she realized it was actually a very fat red steer who sported a lot of grey around his muzzle.

  The steer inhaled in her scent and then shoved his tongue into his nostrils. His gray whiskers accentuated his placid appearance. Mayme knew without asking that this animal was definitely more of a pasture pet than a source of meat.

  “Now that you’ve met Fred, let’s see what Cloud thinks of you.” Mr. Smart opened the door to the barn. As she followed him, he said, “And no funny remarks about Fred.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mayme said with just a hint of sarcasm.

  Mr. Smart shook his finger over his shoulder.

  Mayme stifled a giggle but quickly swallowed it as a loud bang echoed throughout the barn.

  The boldly spotted white head of the stallion loomed over the stall gate. The white sclera around his eyes accentuated his attitude.

  Mayme stood back from the stall. Caution more than fear, made her observe him from a distance. His thick neck sported a thin flea-bitten mane. His short back flowed into a powerful hind end.

  “Where’d he get all the scars from?” If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve sworn he’d been beaten recently. In addition to the black spots peppering his hide, there were several semi-circular gashes on his neck and rump, some barely scabbed over.

  “From the damned mustang stallion. Pardon my language, but he’s a bold son-of-a-gun. He comes down from the hills every so often to try and steal my mares to add to his herd. If it wasn’t for Cloud here, Ox would be the only horse around here.”

  “Those are fight wounds?”

  “Yeah. That’s why he’s in here and the mares corralled. He was a bloody mess this time. I figured they’d all be safer locked up while he recuperated.”

  “It looks like Cloud got the short end of the stick.”

  “Yeah. That was all my fault. While the mares fed on some oats by the barn the other day, I got working him on a long line inside the coral. The mustang snuck in, looking to drive the mares away. Cloud jumped the fence, rope and all and they got into it. The rope did him more harm than good. He got it tangled around his legs and had a hard time defending himself. By the time I got the rifle from the house, it was over with. I don’t how he managed to keep that stallion from taking the mares.”

  “You were going to shoot him?” Mayme looked at him incredulously and touched her lips with her fingers. She couldn’t imagine Mr. Smart doing such a heartless thing, especially when there was an arthritic pet steer just outside.

  “Yes, I was. Here’s the thing. One of these days, that stallion is going to cripple Cloud. And worse, he’s going to succeed in taking those mares outside. He could ruin my horse-breeding program all in one fell swoop. Let’s put it this way. If you had to choose between your Blaze and knowing that mustang ran free, what would it be?”

  “Couldn’t you try to catch him?”

  “Many tried and none have succeeded. The bugger is just too smart. Somehow he gets to knowing somebody’s after him so he hides his herd deep in the mountains.”

  Mayme listened with complete fascination. “Wow. Can you imagine owning a horse like that?”

  “Aw, Mayme, he’d be way too dangerous and unpredictable. I’d be wary about any of his offspring. Horses like that tend to pass their errant tempers onto their foals. They can’t be tamed.”

  Mayme inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled it loudly through her mouth. “I’d sure be willing to try.” She raised her chin and walked to Cloud’s door.

  Chapter Ten

  MAYME HAD HER back to the counter on a quiet Wednesday afternoon. Business was finally slow enough she had the opportunity to do a little dusting, although most times it seemed futile. The front door was always open except when a storm blew in from the west. The constant traffic from the multitude of wagons and horses on the road seemed to keep a permanent cloud of dust adrift in the air. It attached itself to the mercantile patronage and was then inconveniently deposited on everything in the store as soon as they entered.

  “I need some SAA forty-fives.”

  Mayme barely stifled a yelp and spun around. She hadn’t heard the man enter. A flush of adrenaline tingled through her body. She narrowed her eyes as she realized it was none other than Billy Prescott. She walked around the counter and looked pointedly at the spurs on his boots.

  She put her hands on her hips. “You snuck up on me.”

  Billy gave her a toothy grin, shook his head, and tapped the floor with the tip of his boot. The jangling spur taunted her. “No, ma’am. I would never do that. You just didn’t wasn’t paying no attention.”

  “Bullocks.” She returned to behind the counter, opened the ammunition drawer, and tossed a box at him. “That’ll be fifty cents, please.” Her voice held none of the courtesy normally exhibited toward customers.

  Billy flicked a couple coins in her direction. They spun like chaotic tops on the counter. “Thanks.”

  He tucked the bullets into his jacket pocket and from the same spot withdrew a folded piece of paper. “Is Fred around? I need to ask him something.”

  The back door slammed suddenly and a moment later Mr. Smart walked in with the rifle she’d been using.

  Perfect timing. Now I won’t have to deal with this egotistical cowboy.

  “Hiya, Billy. Nice to see you back in town.”

  “Won’t be for long. I got me a new job.” He handed the paper to Mr. Smart. “My boss asked me to pass out some of these here flyers. Can you tape one up on your door?”

  Mr. Smart took the paper from Billy and studied it for a few moments. He raised his eyebrows, shoved his lower lip out, and nodded. He worked his jaw and finally said, “Sounds like a great opportunity, but pretty dangerous if you ask me.”

  Mayme craned her neck to see what was written on the paper. Mr. Smart noticed her interest and passed it to her. “Please tack this onto the door when you’re done.”

  Mayme nodded and read with fascination as she walked toward the entrance:

  The United States needs Postal Riders

  Wanted: Skinny, wiry fellows.

  Must be 16 years or older and use any method necessary to deliver the mail, including but not limited to horseback, boats, sled, snowshoes and skis. Orphans preferred.

  With the words playing heavily on her mind, she pushed it over a nail, top and bottom, thereby securing it to the door. She retrieved her feather duster and listened discreetly as Mr. Smart and Billy continued to discuss the postal service.

  “They don’t supply the guns,�
� Billy said. “But I’ll be carrying a carbine and two revolvers. There’s not much that can get past that.”

  “Depends on what kind of shot you are, doesn’t it?” Mr. Smart gave him a wry smile.

  Billy snorted and puffed his chest out. “You said yourself I was one of the best around.”

  Mr. Smart caught Mayme’s eye and winked.

  “What kind of route are they expecting you to ride?” Mr. Smart set the rifle into the empty spot among the other guns. “This place isn’t exactly a big enough city to generate a lot of mail.”

  Billy leaned against the counter and hooked one leg over the other. He rubbed his chin, which had the mere beginnings of a blond scruff of beard. He jangled his spurs against each other and grinned at Mayme.

  Mayme rolled her eyes and not for the first time thought him too cocky for his own good.

  “That’s the thing,” Billy said, turning his attention back to Mr. Smart. “The postmaster wants me to ride between two main offices.”

  “That won’t be too bad for you then. The country south of here is pretty safe, I hear.”

  “I’ll be hauling a lot of mail. That’s what’ll be the most demanding. They expect the riders to meet up at scheduled times at scheduled places. That means I’ll be pushing pretty hard from one drop-off to the other. Some of the routes are up into the mountains.”

  Mr. Smart threw his head back and laughed. “You expect that old plug gelding of yours to hold up to that? I reckon he’d pull up lame on the first day, maybe after the first hour out.”

  “I won’t be riding Sage. The company that bought out the Pony Express is under contract to supply some of the horses. I have some money saved up to buy me one from there. I was hoping you’d be willing to look after Sage for me though. You can use him if you want.”

  “Hmm. Are you sure you want to do something like this?”

  Billy shook his head fast. “I can ride fast, I can shoot, and I like adventure. Why not? I feel like my life is wasting away, herding cranky cattle all day and night.”

  Mr. Smart sighed and then smiled. “I wish there’d been something like this when I was young. Best of luck to you, Billy. Don’t be a stranger around these parts though. You can send one of those letters up here once in a while to let me know how you’re doing.”

  “Yes, sir. Hey, I have to get going. I’ve got some more of these papers to post around before I head out. I’ll get Sage to you somehow.”

  ALTHOUGH BILLY’S EXCITEMENT had a powerful effect on her, Mayme couldn’t help but feel envious. She’d had a strong desire to rush after him and beg to hear more. But with Billy being Billy, she refrained. She had no intention of inflating his ego even more than it was. Indeed all said, she couldn’t help but feel a sort of self-loathing for being a girl. The flier had specifically required boys. Or had it?

  Mayme read and re-read the flyer several times over the rest of the day. She had trouble focusing on anything else, frankly, and watched from a distance as several men and boys stopped to read it. She couldn’t help the unkind thoughts she had about each of them. She silently urged them to quickly move on.

  After Mr. Smart closed the mercantile for the day, she waited discretely in the shadows until he pointed Ox toward home. She checked to make sure no one was watching, and, when the coast was clear, pulled the paper off the door. As she quickly walked away, she folded it and shoved into her bodice. She had no idea what she was going to do with it. She just knew she had to take it down and keep it for her own. She needed to think. A sense of desperation awoke inside her and continued to grow as she walked home. She felt an intense desire to share this with someone. Yet she wasn’t sure who would understand. But by the time she arrived home, she’d made a decision. She was somehow going to be one of those post riders.

  MAYME PACED ALONGSIDE her bed, frequently glancing at the flyer lying on the folded blanket at the foot of it. The words were permanently emblazoned in her memory yet it seemed to constantly hail for her attention. The draw was too great for her not to read it again and again.

  A post rider. What a dream come true it would be if she could pull it off. And it was something she was confident she could do. She was a fast rider. Images of her atop Blaze, racing through the fields sped through her mind. And thanks to Mr. Smart, she could now skillfully handle a gun. Although she wasn’t too keen on the notion she might have to shoot somebody if the need arose. But if it were a matter of life or death, she didn’t think she’d hesitate to pull the trigger.

  The door flew open and Iris poked her head in. “You coming for dinner?”

  Mayme followed Iris’s eyes to the flyer. Her heart flew into her throat.

  “Hey, what’s that?” Iris swept into the room and grabbed the paper before Mayme could react.

  “It’s nothing. Give it here.” She watched Iris’s eyes moved across the page.

  “Where’d you get this?”

  “Billy Prescott brought it by today.”

  “So why do you have it? Isn’t this something that should be posted on the door?” Iris’s eyes suddenly grew large and her face fell slack. “You can’t honestly think you could do something like this.” She shook the flyer at Mayme. “It specifically says boys. In case you’ve forgotten, you’re a girl.”

  “It says fellows, not boys.” Mayme crossed her arms over her chest, defiantly defending her decision even though she hadn’t exactly admitted her plans.

  “Mayme, are you nuts? This ain’t no job for a girl.” Iris sat down on the bed and read the words again. She slumped slightly forward and bent her neck down.

  “Isn’t,” Mayme corrected. She shook her head, realizing it sounded as if she was in agreement. “I know I can do it. Besides, I’m going to see if they’ll give me a route from here down to the station in Pocatello. Billy said that was the safest anyway.”

  “Billy thinks you should do this?”

  “No. No one knows but you.”

  “There’s still the issue of you not being a boy.”

  “I’m going to cut my hair. You said yourself that when I have on my trousers and hat I look like a fellow.”

  Iris looked pointedly at Mayme’s breasts. “What are you going to do about those?”

  “God, I have no idea. I forgot about them. Maybe I can wrap them and wear loose shirts. I should be able to hide them. They’re not that big.”

  “Yet.”

  “I’ll figure something out.”

  Iris sighed loudly. “I just don’t understand why you’d want to do something as crazy as this. Aren’t you happy here? Don’t you like us?”

  Mayme sat beside Iris and put her arm around her shoulder. “Of course I do. Don’t be silly. But I know I can do this. It’d be something I’d be really good at.” She sighed. “Ever since my parents sent me away, I’ve felt inadequate.

  Iris shook her head. “But you’re not. You have a great job at the mercantile. Why can’t you keep on doing that?”

  All of a sudden, it became clear to Mayme. “Because I don’t want to feel like I’m waiting around for some man to ask me to be his wife. I want to actually do something with my life that counts.”

  Iris stared at her for several moments, seemingly letting her words sink in. The corners of her mouth slowly turned up into a smile. “I’m the only one who knows?”

  Mayme chuckled. “Yes. For the time being that is. But at some point I’m going to have to tell Mr. Smart. I can’t just quit without saying anything.”

  “Do you think he’ll hire me in your place?”

  Mayme shoved her shoulder into Iris.’ “You just want my job so you’ll see Billy Prescott. Although I’m not sure how often you’ll see him. He’s already got one of these jobs.”

  Iris shrugged and laughed before becoming serious again. “You’ll need someone to cut your hair. I can do that. And I’ll help you with your clothes. There might even be something of my dad’s still in the closet.”

  Mayme flung her arms around Iris and squeezed. “You’re the best
. Thank you.” The doubt and tension she felt about what she was about to attempt disappeared. In that single moment, Iris made her heart feel full. She wouldn’t only be riding for the postal service. It’d be for Iris too.

  IT TOOK A couple days for them to put together a collection of clothing for Mayme. Iris also found an old cloth wrap tucked deep in her father’s closet. He’d used it to wrap his leg after pulling a groin muscle one time. After convincing Mayme it’d been washed, it was added to the pile. Mayme practiced wrapping her chest at night after everyone else went to bed. The last thing on the list of things to do would be to get her hair cut.

  Mayme hadn’t quite gathered the nerve to tell Mr. Smart about her plans. She was nervous and scared he’d either talk her out of it, or go to Mrs. Randall and blow the entire plot out of the water. She needed to think about it for a while longer.

  In the meantime, with Iris’s input, she practiced acting and speaking like a boy. By imitating what she remembered of Billy Prescott’s behaviour, it was pretty easy. After her first few attempts brought about fits of muffled laughter and uncontrollable giggles, they were able to sober up enough to make progress.

  “I think I should cut your hair before you go talk to Mr. Smart,” Iris whispered to Mayme while washing dishes one evening.

  Mayme was drying and sorting the cutlery. She paused and blinked at Iris as a fluttery feeling beat in her belly. “Why?”

  “Let’s put it this way. If you tell him looking and dressed like you do, you’ll have a harder time convincing him you can do it. But if you walk into the mercantile and he doesn’t recognize you—”

  “He’d know I’m serious and be less likely try and talk me out of it.” Mayme wasn’t looking forward to having her lengthy tresses cut off. She’d had long hair for as long as she could remember.

  “Oh, I suspect he’ll still try to talk you out of it.” Iris frowned and cocked her head. “But I’d be more willing to bet you’ll feel more confident when you tell him you’re quitting. And suggest I take your place.” Iris’ smile exuded mischief.