“What I was about to say was, well, I’d best get going then.”
“Very well. May God guide you safely on your travels.”
Mayme headed for the livery. Her step became livelier as she reminded herself she had a horse. And a job that required her to be on said horse.
Duster’s deep nicker welcomed her as she walked into the barn. None of the bedding in stall had been disturbed and Mayme wondered if Duster had stood at the stall door awaiting her return. She peeked over the stall and was satisfied to see that the farrier had already trimmed and put shoes on Duster’s hooves. They looked as good as Blaze’s did after he was shod.
“Hey, big girl. What do you say we get to know each other? We’re going to be heading out on a long trail ride in a few days.” Mayme stroked Duster’s neck and her hand came away with a bunch of hair pasted on it. She looked around and smiled as she found a burlap sack that’d been emptied of the oats once stored in it. She took it outside and flapped the dust out of it. Satisfied, she went into Duster’s stall and let her sniff it before she touched her with it.
Duster snorted twice and wiggled her nose over the sack.
“Still smell the oats, huh girl.” Mayme rubbed the sack gently on Duster’s chest.
Duster’s nose wiggled back and forth, and Mayme used a bit more force. Pretty soon she was able to work the burlap over Duster’s entire hide. Mayme was hot and sweaty by the time she finished and believed she wore more hair and dirt on her than Duster did. She wiped her face with a sleeve. And pasted her hair back under her hat.
As during her grooming, Duster stood stock still as Mayme laid the saddle on her back. Mayme tightened the girth and Duster didn’t move. Mayme held the bridle in front of Duster’s face, and she lowered her head, opened her mouth, and took the bit without any drama whatsoever.
“Wow. You really have nice ground manners. But let’s see how you ride, shall we?”
Mayme led Duster out of the barn. After she adjusted the stirrups to her length, she stepped up and swung her leg over Duster’s back. She wiggled her butt back and forth in the saddle to set it firmly on Dusters back. She picked up the reins and patted Duster’s neck.
“Okay, big girl. Let’s see what you can do.”
Mayme quickly realized Duster reacted to weight adjustment in the stirrups more than signals with her legs or reins, although she was keen to do those as well.
She followed the road out of town, past the train station. The ruts ran out and turned into a dusty trail, and she eased Duster into a trot. As she suspected, Duster’s stride was easy and extremely comfortable. She asked for a canter, and Duster cross-cantered a few strides before correcting herself.
Mayme was impressed with Duster’s endurance. She’d barely broken a sweat until after she’d slowed her down to catch her breath. “It’s me that’s not used to riding.”
Already her legs were tired and the rocker bones in her seat were letting her know of their presence. She decided to turn around and head back. There’d be plenty of time for her to get used to the long hours in the saddle.
“YOU’LL NEED THIS.” A long chain with a pocket watch attached at the end dangled from Mr. Smart’s fingers. “It’s as important as the flint.”
Mayme gazed at the watch. “I can tell pretty good time from the position of the sun.”
“I’m sure you can. But this is also your compass.”
“What?”
“Follow me.” Mr. Smart led the way out the back of the store. He looked up at the sky and moved out of the shadow of the building. “You’ll use this to check your course. If you divide the watch into three-hundred sixty degrees, or like the points on a compass, you can figure out a line of direction from north to south.”
“How the heck do I do that?”
He held the watch in front of him. “You aim the hour hand at the sun. Then you split the distance between the hour hand and the twelve on the watch. See? It’s eight-fifteen in the morning now. The split is near ten which shows you the southern direction and north is where the four is.”
Mayme furrowed her brows in concentration.
“Look, you have any doubt which end of the line is north, just remember that the sun rises in the east, sets in the west, and is due south at noon.”
“The sun is in the east before noon and in the west after noon.”Mayme nodded. “Okay. I understand.”
“There’s one other thing you have to remember.” Mr. Smart handed the watch to her. “You have to keep it wound. An hour difference could take you in a completely wrong direction. You surely don’t want to get lost in those mountains.”
Mayme focused on the mountains in the distance. Suddenly they looked less pretty and more foreboding.
“YOU’RE LEAVING IN only two days?” Iris said that night. “That’s not near long enough for me to get used to you leaving.”
Mayme smiled at her and patted her hand. “I’d leave tomorrow except I have to buy provisions, a bedroll, and a few other things that I didn’t have time to get today. I would’ve liked to take Duster on some longer rides too. I rode her out past the train station and back today. I was so proud of her. She was so steady and didn’t even spook when I had to shoot the rattlesnake.”
Iris shook her head and chuckled. “You are nothing like the girl who came off that train a few months back.”
“I am. I’m just not adhering to everybody else’s thoughts of how a girl should look and act.” Mayme winked at her. “I guess I did go from one extreme to the other.”
MAYME WAS ABLE to purchase most of what she needed from Mr. Smart. He didn’t want to take her money at first, but after she nearly cleaned him out of dried meat, biscuits, and bullets, he relented. But only after he added a flint and knife to her pile.
She stood back and surveyed her purchases. “Geez. I don’t know how I’m going to carry all this.”
“Roll your clothes up inside your bedroll. You should be able to pack the rest into the saddlebags. Keep your flint inside your pocket because you never know when you’ll need to make a fast fire or a torch. And one last, but very important thing: Always keep your guns loaded.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. I’ll see you when you get back.” Mr. Smart wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. “You be careful out there and hurry home, you hear?”
MAYME ROSE BEFORE dawn the next morning. There wasn’t anything else of hers in the room except the clothes she would wear. She had packed her suitcase with everything she wouldn’t need. It was now safely stored in Iris’s room. She wrapped her chest, shoved her arms through the flannel shirt, and tied a bandanna around her neck. Once she’d pulled on her trousers, she tucked her shirt inside the hem and threaded an ammunition belt through the loops. Although it held twenty-four rounds, it wasn’t obtrusive sitting on her hips. After sliding her feet into her new boots, she took one last look around her room. It looked as if she’d never been there.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Time to go.” Thankfully everyone else was still asleep in her respective rooms. As she crept downstairs, she placed her palm on Iris’s door. “I’ll miss you most of all.”
Chapter Fourteen
DUSTER DANCED IN place as if she knew they were about to embark on a big adventure. She tossed her head proudly and snorted.
“Easy girl. You don’t want to wear yourself out before we get out of town.” Mayme patted Duster’s neck. She circled the horse, making sure everything was securely tied, and then checked it again.
“Thank heavens I caught you before you left,” Mayme heard Iris say as she finished tightening the girth.
She freed the hooked stirrup from the horn, let it down, and turned around.
Iris shoved a small sack into Mayme’s hands. “I made these for you.”
Mayme opened the sack to find a several pieces of fried bread, each with a hole in it. She looked at Iris with raised eyebrows.
“I put holes in them so you could just poke a finger in and eat t
hem as you rode.”
“Oh! What a great idea. Thank you.” Mayme realized that she now had to say goodbye to Iris again. She felt a lump working its way into her throat and suddenly she couldn’t find her voice, couldn’t find the words to tell Iris what her friendship meant to her.
Iris must have read the look on Mayme’s face. She pulled her into a hug and then pushed her toward Duster. “You better get going. I’ll see you when I see you.”
Mayme smiled weakly and tied the sack onto the saddle horn. She stepped into the stirrup and pulled herself up into the saddle. She tipped her hat and said, “Yeah. Count on it.”
She pushed Duster into a slow trot to expel any lingering thoughts of changing her mind and staying. By the time she reached the town’s western edge, her concentration was solely focused on moving in rhythm with Duster’s gaits. Not for the first time, she gloried in being on the back of a horse again. She’d missed the wind in her hair, the smell of horse sweat, and the creak of leather. Duster felt good beneath her and didn’t seem to be bothered by the weight of all her gear.
The sun was high in the sky before she finally reached the point where she had to change direction and head north. The land fell away in gullies and ravines to the river. According to the map, she had to cross here.
Mayme pulled Duster up and double-checked the map. From her vantage point, she saw steep rolling hills that led up to huge outcroppings of underlying granite and gaunt pines that towered somberly everywhere. It all seemed so wild and untamed to her mid-west bred eyes.
A barely perceptible cattle trail led her eyes to the river below. Beyond, the trail cut through a wall of white birch trees. She clucked to Duster, leaned back in the saddle, and let Duster pick her way down the rocky slope littered with rocks and old piles of cattle dung.
The closer she got to the river, the wider it seemed to grow. Large boulders were spattered downstream just before a series of rapids rippled the water. Mayme scanned the current for the best place to cross and found a spot where it seemed calmer. She pointed Duster toward the river and entered the water. The sloshing and dull thuds of hooves meeting the rocks beneath the water mixed with the breeze created by the river.
Aside from a few stumbles, which Duster easily recovered from, the crossing was uneventful. Convinced they both could use a break, Mayme dismounted on the other side. While Duster drank her fill from the river edge, Mayme sipped from her canteen. As she did so, she scanned Duster’s legs and made sure the shoes were still securely nailed to her hooves. She untied the bandanna, dipped it into the water, and wiped her face and neck of sweat and dust.
A slap against the water caused her to look up quickly. She watched a beaver resurface and scramble onto flattened ground where a cluster of poplar trees grew, several of which sported notches from the creature’s gnawing. The beaver had squinted slits for eyes and crinkly bare ears. It stood up on its hind legs and tipped its nose upward to detect any possible danger. As its nose wiggled up and down, it showed off four curved teeth stained as if from eons of continuous tobacco chewing. Eventually it ambled back into the water and disappeared.
Mayme checked the saddle girth and gathered the reins. Duster seemed refreshed from her long drink and short rest. The sweat on her neck had dried and Mayme made a mental note to give her a good brush down when she camped for the night.
The trees ahead were dense and green. “I better take advantage of the sun while we still have it, eh girl?” Duster pricked her ears forward and seemed to listen. Mayme slid the pocket watch out and checked the map against her current position. “So far, so good.”
A few minutes later she wove Duster through the stand of cottonwoods lining the river. The ground slowly rose as she rode. She knew she must be close to, if not into the foothills. The landscape was quite pleasing. The foliage was lush and shadows dappled the ground.
Eventually the water loving trees gave in to the pines. The ground was littered with brown needles and the tops of the trees stretched up tall into the sky. She came to an edge where the trees emptied out into a meadow covered in blooming flowers. As she took in the colorful landscape, her eyes came to rest at the base of the huge pine next to where Duster stood. A litter of pinecone flakes on the ground betrayed the red squirrel sleeping on the branch above. With its tufted ears and tail of fine hairs curled over its back and projecting just in front of its face, it resembled a large, hairy pinecone.
Duster tossed her head and stared intently across the meadow. Her big chest expanded as she took in a deep breath and fidgeted beneath Mayme. She put her hand on Duster’s neck and squinted to try to see what had her horse’s attention. She thought she might have seen some shadows and maybe a glint of something shiny, but in the end, she couldn’t be sure. Besides, whatever it was must have moved on because Duster snorted once and lowered her head to grab a few mouthfuls of grass.
Mayme loosened the strap on the rifle scabbard just in case. She knew Indians lived in this part of the country, although she’d ever laid eyes on one, even in town. Then again, it very well may have been the stallion that Mr. Smart had spoken of. If it came down to preventing him from stealing Duster and shooting him, she didn’t think she would hesitate. Suddenly she realized exactly how Mr. Smart felt.
The sun touched the peaks of the mountains and was starting its slow decent into night. Slivers of bright orange and red streaked across the sky.
Mayme had already made her first mistake. She’d forgotten how quickly it got dark after the sun disappeared behind the mountains. She scanned the meadow. Other than a few taller flowers moving in the slight breeze, all was still.
She dismounted and quickly got to work. After looping a rein over a low branch, she loosened the girth and slid the saddle off Duster’s back. She untied her bedroll and saddlebag and put them next to a downed log. Realizing she needed to get a fire going quickly, she scraped the ground of litter and scuffed as much dirt to the sides as possible. There wasn’t much because of the deeply imbedded granite, but it would suffice. She snapped dead branches off the pines and soon had a decent pile.
The flint was easy to use. With the dry tinder, the sparks caught hold and soon small flames licked the wood. The pine resin snapped as it burned and reminded Mayme of the fires she used to build for cooking at Mrs. Randall’s house.
That thought brought about a pang of loneliness. She missed Iris’ and Mr. Smart’s company. They both had added so much value to her life. There was no doubt in her mind that she wouldn’t have succeeded in getting this job if it weren’t for their help. Her fatigue would make her long for their company more, she knew, so she focused on caring for Duster and making something to eat. She was tired enough that sleep wouldn’t be long in coming afterward.
Mayme woke suddenly to impenetrable darkness. The fire had died down to embers so the only light was the bit that crept from the moon through the tree canopy. Duster’s dark form remained motionless, although her head was up and alert with ears pricked forward. Mayme strained to look through the darkness, but to no avail.
An owl hooted from across the meadow and was answered by another from the trees behind her. Other than that, all was quiet. But what woke her? And what had Duster’s attention? Mayme’s heart beat thickly in her ears. She was sure even Duster could hear it. She slid her hand out from under the blanket and felt for the rifle. She’d propped it against the saddle before she’d gone to bed. A surge of panic was nearly her undoing as she failed to find the gun. Her fingers finally landed on it as she bent her elbow and felt nearer to her head. She rolled her eyes, thinking this was all ridiculous. But Duster’s sudden snort told her differently.
Mayme fought the instinct to freeze. With a shaky hand, she slid the rifle down along her ribs and held it to her chest. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Beads of sweat formed on her upper lip and she licked it nervously. As slowly as she could, she shoved the blanket off to the side and rolled into a deeper shadow, one where what was left of the fire couldn’t touch. She
crept forward on her hands and knees until she crouched by Duster’s front legs.
Duster lowered her head and blew a soft breath into Mayme’s hair.
“Easy girl,” Mayme whispered.
Uneventful minutes turned into what seemed like hours. Her knees ached from maintaining her position. She finally gave in and sat down. She draped the rifle over her lap and leaned against the tree to which Duster was tied.
A bird woke her once again, although this time it wasn’t an owl. In fact the meadow and woods around her was full of birdsong. Robins, magpies, and chickadees flitted among the branches above her.
She couldn’t believe she fell asleep. Her butt was asleep and she was sure she had the bark imprint on her cheek. Her muscles ached from the tension of last night and riding all day yesterday.
Duster wiggled her lip over the top of Mayme’s head.
“Some help you are. You let me fall asleep, you big oaf.” Mayme got to her feet and stroked the mare’s neck. Dried, crusty sweat flaked under her hand and she instantly felt guilty for not giving Duster the grooming she’d promised.
After surveying the expanse of the meadow for any movement, Mayme grabbed handfuls of pine needles and rubbed them over Duster’s hide. After she finished a little while later, Duster’s coat was smooth and shiny. Mayme untied her and with the rope dragging at her feet, Duster grazed the grasses nearby. She was quite pleased to see the mare didn’t seem to want to wander too far.
Breakfast consisted of some of the fried bread Iris had given her and a can of beans. She’d been so engrossed in navigating the countryside on horseback that she’d only eaten a few bites of jerky yesterday. She made a mental vow not to do that again as it added to her fatigue and could ultimately be deadly if her reaction time was slowed.
While chewing the last mouthful of bread, she wound the watch and confirmed her route for the day. After making sure the fire was completely dead, she readied Duster, gathered everything, and tied it onto the saddle.
After a Time Page 12