Forsaking All Others (Western Vows)

by Kari Trumbo

  Heat rose to her cheeks at his touch and his words. She lifted the hem of the dress, which was longer than it should’ve been, to reveal what looked like men’s shoes on her tiny feet.

  “Your feet will blister and you won’t be able to walk. That will never work.” Pete eyed the offending footwear.

  Morgan turned back to face her and pulled a chair out to sit. “The dress is long enough to cover your feet, do you think you could manage to keep your toes under the dress when you walk?” He looked at her and propped his chin on his fist.

  She removed the boots and walked across the room. The petticoats and long hem of the dress kept her feet completely hidden. She smiled at Morgan for letting her wear what she was used to. Pete scowled.

  “Now for that hair. You look like a twelve year old child with your braids like that. Can you put it up and wear a bonnet?”

  She wrapped her arms across her chest and looked at the floor. It was bad enough Pete had asked her to dress and wear her hair as a boy would, but to be called a child...

  She wrenched the ties out that Pete had wrapped them in. Finger-combing out her braids, she then put it back into a long plait down her back. She found a long decorative comb on the mantle and wound her braid, securing it with the comb. Morgan handed her the bonnet and she put it on her head, but didn’t know how to tie the strings. He took them from her fumbling fingers and tied the bow off to the left side of her chin, taking longer than he should have to search her face. She couldn’t bear his scrutiny and looked away.

  “There. You look perfect.” He tilted his head to see her face as if he was searching for something.

  When she wouldn’t look at him, he turned away from her and hit the back of the chair with his palm. “Now...our next order of business will be to find another horse. Rose can ride with you, Pete.”

  “Rose can walk, like any other woman.” Pete crossed his arms over his chest again. Rose squinted at him. He was asserting his dominance, but over whom: her or Morgan?

  Morgan came around the table and stood nose-to-nose with Pete. “No, Rose can’t walk. We need to go faster than that and I am not leaving her behind, alone. If you don’t want her to ride with you, she’ll ride with me.” Morgan left the cabin before Pete could say another word. He followed Morgan out, leaving Rose to pick up the items on the table and return them to the flour sack. She slung the heavy bag over her shoulder and walked out to join them, closing the door behind her.

  Morgan and Pete continued to argue, but in hushed voices as if they didn’t want her to hear what was said. She trudged over to them and Morgan backed away from Pete, smiling at her.

  “You are safe here. You should wait at the cabin until I get back. The town isn’t far from here, and I can get a horse and bring it with me.”

  Pete stared at him with hard eyes. “Why should we believe you won’t leave us out here? Or worse, now that you’ve got us in these clothes that don’t belong to us, what would stop you from bringing the law out here and having us arrested?”

  “I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

  “I don’t trust you. The horse can stay here with Rose. You and I’ll walk into town and get the other one.”

  “So you trust your gal not to bolt? Well, at least that’s something.”

  Pete gestured at her. “Rose? She can’t bolt. She’s never ridden before.”

  Morgan shook his head. “I can’t figure out what that gal is doing with you? Do you treat her that way all the time? How is a woman supposed to get around without knowing how to ride a horse?”

  “She’s got legs.”

  “So do you.” Morgan yelled, his hands flying in frustration.

  Pete growled and clenched his fists but Morgan was ready for him and punched him in the jaw, laying the younger man flat on his back. Rose wanted to feel sorry for him, but Morgan said so many things that made sense. She’d always listened to Pete’s every word, but now she questioned that wisdom.

  Morgan looked at her. “I’d rather you come with me.” He mounted his horse, took his foot from the stirrup, and offered her his hand. She looked at it then back down at Pete. She shouldn’t leave him but didn’t want to stay with him either. Hiking up her dress, Rose stuck her foot inside and yanked Morgan’s arm to stand in the stirrup. She swung her leg over just as he had just done.

  It wasn’t comfortable sitting behind the saddle, but she held on to his waist and tried to make the best of the situation. He stuck his foot back into the stirrup and made a noise she’d never heard before. The horse started off at a trot, and she clung tighter to his back. It felt as if she’d fall right off the horse’s rump. How women rode like this was beyond her. Perhaps women truly were meant to walk.

  Pete stumbled to his feet and yelled after her, but she could do nothing about it. It took every ounce of concentration to keep from falling off the back or side of the horse. She wanted to look over her shoulder to Pete but, it was much harder than she’d thought it would be. Her legs already ached, and she wasn’t sure how to use her muscles to help balance atop the horse.

  Morgan had been right. They had been close to town the entire time and he slowed the horse as they entered. A wooden sign posted at the edge of town had symbols painted on it in white. Rose smiled. I’ll be able to read that someday.

  He rode past a few buildings into town then turned down a street with houses along each side. He stopped in front of a home with windows on two levels and flowers all along the front porch. Rose clutched at Morgan’s back. Being in town terrified her. She tried to take in everything at once to avoid any surprises. Her skin prickled with apprehension.

  “Wait here. Don’t let the horse go.” He handed her the reins. She looked at him, eyes wide. Just what was she supposed to do with them? She wanted to ask, but he’d already made his way halfway to the house. Morgan knocked on the door and was let in, disappearing from sight and leaving her alone in the street. One tiny, curious face looked out at her from a front window.

  The horse put its head down and chomped the fresh grass in front of the house, ambling a little further down the street as it grazed. Within a few minutes, it had walked three houses away from where Morgan had gone in. Rose couldn’t reach the stirrup with her foot to try to get down, and she couldn’t move up into the saddle. Every time she put enough pressure on the saddle to move forward, the horse walked faster in the wrong direction.

  She looked back at the house and tried to pull on the reins to get the horse to turn back, but it pulled in the opposite direction. She floundered, losing her seating, and she lost the reins as she gripped the saddle.

  “Oh, what a fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into now, Rose,” she grumbled, reaching for the rein and making the horse wander forward again.

  A sharp laugh sounded behind her. She whipped her head around to see Morgan walking toward her followed by another man.

  “Rose, I think that horse is taking you for a ride.”

  “So kind of you to notice,” she ground out through her teeth.

  Morgan chuckled as he walked with the other man. They came alongside her and she did her best impression of Pete’s scowl at him. He didn’t appear to care.

  The stranger touched the horse just behind where Rose sat, his hand uncomfortably close to her.

  “So, Morgan, you say you’re heading a group to Kansas. You only need one horse?”

  “Yes, just one. A man lost his.” Morgan spoke through the brim of his hat, not looking up at her or the other man.

  “And what about this gal. Who’s she?”

  “She’s the wife of the man who needs a horse.” Morgan patted the neck of his own.

  The strange man gave Morgan a scathing look. “Then why is she with you?”

  Morgan looked up and returned the scowl. “Do you have a horse or not?”

  “Horses ain’t free. What you got to pay for it?” He stood back a step.

  Morgan grabbed the dangling rein to keep the horse from continuing its jaunt. “You owed m
y uncle quite a bit in credit. He’s gone now, and I’m his next of kin. You can square up your debt with a horse.”

  “I’m sorry about your uncle, but my debt wasn’t with you, Morgan. I don’t see how I owe you anything.”

  Morgan looked up at Rose and raised his voice enough that many homes near them with their windows open could hear him. “So, Harley Lucas isn’t a man who squares up his debts?”

  “Keep your voice down!” He took a menacing step toward Morgan. The aggressive move triggered a terrible fear in Rose, as if the stranger were her father. She kicked the stranger in the stomach with as much force as she could muster from atop Morgan’s horse. Her movement was too much like what it had learned was the signal for go. The horse dipped its rear down and jumped into a trot, depositing Rose on her behind as it left.

  Running the few steps to where she’d fallen, Morgan helped her back up. The stranger followed him. Her fall had jarred the bonnet off her head and her long braid now fell down her back.

  “Indian.” The stranger’s lips curled into a snarl. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to her feet. “You’ll pay for kicking me, you good-for-nothing savage.”

  Morgan lunged for Rose, but the man holding her yanked her backward. Tears filled her eyes at the pain and she screamed, stopping Morgan in his tracks. Her head burned and she arched her neck to relieve some of the strain.

  “Harley, get your hands off her.” A new voice appeared behind her but she couldn’t turn her head to see.

  “Olsen, you stay out of this. She kicked me, and I’m going to let the law handle it.” He jerked her head again and looked her in the eyes with hatred.

  “No, you’re going to let her go or I’ll deal with you personally.” Olsen’s voice sounded nearer with every step.

  “Morgan, good to see you. If you needed help, you should have come by my place first. You know I’ll help you. Go get your horse. I can handle this.”

  She couldn’t see through the tears now spilling over her lashes. Rose had never known her hair could cause so much pain.

  “Hands off. Now.” He was right behind her, and she could tell he was tall. His voice sounded far above her head.

  Hands pried Harley’s fingers from her scalp and she let out the breath she’d been holding to avoid movement. Of their own accord, her hands massaged her aching scalp.

  “Get outta here, neighbor.” Olsen stood his full height and crossed his arms across his chest. Harley backed away a few steps then turned, hightailing it back to his own house, and slamming the door behind him.

  “You all right, ma’am?”

  She’d never in her life been called that. Was it a nice term, or not? She had to assume so. His voice didn’t hold a hint of derision or anger anymore.

  “Yes, I think so. I suppose I should get used to it. I expect I’ll get that reaction everywhere.”

  “Not from me. I’ve found when I treat your people with respect, they give it back in double measure. Are you Osage?”

  She shook her head. “I believe you would call me Sioux.” She tried to put her hair back into the comb. Giving up after a few tries, she slapped the bonnet back on her head, letting the ties fly down her back.

  His gaze looked far away. “I was out hunting along the border to the reservation two autumns ago and got too close to a bear. I happened to be in its way and was too terrified to know what to do. An Osage warrior heard me running through the brush and saw my predicament. I hadn’t been running long, but I was tired and the bear was gaining on me. That Indian took his rifle and in one shot took the bear down. I’ve never seen such skill. I thanked him, but had nothing to give him beyond that.” Olsen looked at his feet. “In a way, if I help you, it’s like I’m passing on the good turn I was given.”

  “I don’t know what to say...except thank you.”

  One side of his mouth pulled up. “You don’t have to say anything else. Now you’re off that horse, why don’t you just hold onto it while Morgan and I find something suitable?”

  She nodded and took the reins from Morgan as he walked by her. They both went to a nice, white house. A woman came out the front door and gave Morgan a quick hug. She then approached Rose.

  “Afternoon.” She gave Rose a welcoming smile. “Is there anything I can get for you while the men talk? We could tie the horse in front and you could come in and sit? My name’s Lucy. I’m Morgan’s sister.”

  “Oh.” The realization hit her that Lucy didn’t know about Joe and Maggie yet. “Yes, I...would like that.”

  “Friends are best made over tea.” She took the reins from Rose and led her to the house.

  Rose had never seen such a beautiful home. She’d grown up in a portable structure of long poles and hides. This was more like the wooden structure the nun’s had lived in. Soft, plush furniture adorned the front sitting room. Warmth poured from the potbellied stove in the corner and Lucy showed her a basin to wash her hands in.

  “Pick a seat that looks comfy to you in the sitting room. I’ll be in with the tea in a minute.”

  Rose sat on a small, square stool which sat in front of a large chair. It was padded and embroidered. To her small frame, it felt perfect. She crossed her calves in front of her and waited. When Lucy entered, her eyes laughed and she smiled at Rose’s choice but didn’t question it or correct her.

  “So where’s my brother taking you?” She put three dried raspberry leaves in the bottom of a cup and poured steaming water over the top, offering a small pot of honey.

  “I think our destination is Kansas. Though Pete, the man I’m traveling with, seems keen on changing plans.” She looked at the pot of honey and had no idea what she should do with it, so she shook her head.

  Lucy nodded absentmindedly, her focus on pouring her own water. “How did you meet my brother and convince him to take you south? It seems odd he would leave. You could just stay here.”

  Rose looked down into the water as it slowly turned green. “Pete and I met Morgan at your aunt and uncle’s home.” She paused, had Morgan told them? If not, should she say something? Rose took a tentative sip of her drink. “Your aunt and uncle...”

  “They didn’t make it through the winter, did they?” Lucy’s eyes took on a sad, understanding look.

  Rose turned away. “No. We don’t know if they were sick or what happened, but we found them...I’m sorry.”

  She sighed and her eyes misted. “We had much more snow this last year than usual, you’ll remember. Then we had a few families get diphtheria. None of us could get out to their house for almost two whole months and after that, the sickness had us all cooped up in the house. I think Morgan was afraid to go out there after the thaw. When we didn’t see them come into town, we all believed the worst. Now it’s just confirmed.” Lucy stuck her pinky into her cup for a moment then lifted her cup and sipped. Rose gave her a quizzical glance.

  “Oh, my mother would be furious if she thought I was teaching you to do that. I hate burning my lip on my tea, so I always put my finger in first to test it.” She blushed, then laughed at herself.

  Rose didn’t want her only female friend to be embarrassed. She searched her brain for something else they could talk about. “Harley recognized me as Indian as soon as he saw my hair. Can you teach me how to put mine up like yours?”

  “Oh, certainly. You’ll need a brush, though. If you don’t have one, you can take my aunt’s. Are you going back out there?”

  Rose nodded and Lucy got up to get her own brush and mirror. She showed Rose how to comb it and twist it, then turn it in on itself, and how to stick the comb in tight, close to her head. Rose had so much hair, it felt heavy and cumbersome. She took out Lucy’s work and attempted to do it herself. By the time they had finished their tea and the men were done, Rose had mastered her hair.

  “Lucy...your brother laughs at me a lot.” Her cheeks flamed. “Does he mean to be so cruel?”

  “My brother has lived far too long without feminine company. While men can joke and laugh at one
another, a woman takes those things to heart.”

  “I was worried he thought I was simple.”

  “Rose, you don’t have to go, you know. Stay here with me. The trail is no place for you. We can find somewhere for you to start over.” She touched a stray strand of Rose’s hair.

  Rose pulled away. She couldn’t leave Pete. He would go to Kansas, and that meant she must follow him.

  Rose shook her head. “No. I must go.”

  Lucy’s smile faltered. “At least take some provision with you. I’ll pack some things if you’ll take them?”

  Rose nodded, looking at the floor. She hadn’t meant to, but she knew Lucy was hurt.

  Lucy got up one last time. When she returned, she carried a sack similar to the flour sack Rose would already be carrying and a small slip of paper with writing on it.

  “This is my address. When you get to where you’re going, you can write to me. It’s always good to have a friend or two.” Rose stood, took the paper, and gave her a short hug. She’d learn how to write or find someone to help. Morgan entered the room with his brother-in-law and hugged his sister.

  “Morgan, you take good care of her. Get her where she’s going then you come back to us. We need you.” She touched his arm.

  “We’ll see. If I’m needed more where I’m going, I’ll most likely stay. It was time anyway. Probably Providence that I came across this couple.” He motioned to Rose.

  Mr. Olsen led them outside and stood on the stoop, watching. The two horses waited for them; both were saddled and ready. Morgan pointed to the new, smaller pony.

  “If I help you on her, do you think you can ride?”

  She considered a minute. It would be easier if she were sitting further up on the horse, not on the rump which shifted with every step, making balance so difficult.

  She nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

  “That’s all I can ask.” He held his hands down to the level of her knees. As she put one foot in, he lifted it higher. Rose threw her leg over the back of the horse. Sitting in the saddle was much more comfortable than behind it.