Prairie Song

by Cheryl Anne Porter

  “I was. But I didn’t realize until now just how late in the morning it is. But I guess I should have when you said you stood in line for hours.” Kate took the mug he held up to her. She was as careful as he was not to let their hands touch. She sipped at the black brew. Hot, strong, biting. Looking over the mug’s rim, she caught Cole watching her.

  He looked away and then reached around to drag her wooden box from yesterday around to the fire. He stretched to place it at arm’s length from him. “Sit here.”

  Hesitating only a moment, Kate walked to the box and sat down, knees together. She perched her mug on her knees, and turned her gaze to Cole. And prayed her morning sickness wouldn’t take hold of her just yet.

  He sucked in a gulp of his coffee, looked up at a point in the distance, huffed out a breath, and turned back to her. “What are you looking for in a claim?”

  She realized she had no idea. And it was hard to think with his black eyes boring into her soul. So she said whatever practical-sounding thing came into her mind. “Water, I suppose. And trees.”

  “Water and trees. That’s all?”

  Refusing to squirm, she quickly added, “And grass and good soil.”

  “Grass and good soil.”

  Kate clamped down on her back teeth. “Do you intend to repeat everything I say?”

  His chuckle further unnerved her. “Kate, who in hell let you get on a train bound for Oklahoma country with no idea what you’re getting yourself into?”

  She raised her chin a notch. “No one let me. I’m my own woman, Mr. Youngblood. Just like you’re your own man. And I don’t take kindly to people who think they can let me do anything.” Not after Mr. Talmidge, she added to herself.

  “Is that so? You’re your own woman? That’s not how you looked when I saw you under that tree last evening, sitting on that very box there and crying.”

  Stung by further evidence of her unpreparedness, Kate lowered her gaze, concentrating on staring deep into the tin mug of coffee cupped in her hands. Quietly, she said, “I know what I was doing. And I’ve said thank you for helping me.”

  Then she looked up, capturing his knowing gaze. One that said he knew she was just as aware of him as he was of her. Kate took a deep breath and reminded him, “We’re not accomplishing anything here, Mr. Youngblood.”

  He blinked; the look was gone. “You’re right.” He took another pull from his coffee mug. “So, I’m to find you a claim with water, trees, grass, and good soil, right?”

  Finally. They were back on the subject. “Right.”

  “Which city you want it to be close to?”

  She frowned and lowered her mug, which she’d been raising to her lips. “City? I didn’t know there were any cities in the Unassigned Lands.”

  Cole gave her a sidelong look. “I swear you’d be dead now if I hadn’t come along when I did. Kate, there are cities staked out and marked by the government already. Not everyone here wants to farm the land. A big number of these folks are businessmen and tradesmen, expecting to get rich off the building of this territory.”

  Kate slumped with the realization of how little she knew of the world, of how sheltered—except for those last weeks—her life in the Talmidge mansion in New York had been. She’d been so preoccupied with getting out here that she hadn’t noticed a single thing going on around her. There was so much to learn. But the good news was a city close by meant work, something she knew how to do. Unlike farming. So finally, all she said was, “I see. Whole cities. Go on.”

  “All right. I’m going to suggest that you settle near the railroad’s Guthrie station.” He pulled a folded-up piece of paper out of his shirt pocket, unfolded it and showed it to her. “I found this map that my brother-in-law had marked a likely spot on right here.” He pointed to it. Kate studied it intently. “It’s close to the Cherokee Outlet border, near the junction of the Cottonwood and Cimarron rivers, which means I can get to it in a hurry on Monday. And being that close to water, the land should be good for farming. And if you’re near Guthrie, you’ll likely be close to neighbors, which will be good for a woman alone.”

  Kate nodded, her thoughts winging ahead several months from now. To the dead of winter, when her time would come due. And of just how much she would need these as yet unknown neighbors. What if she couldn’t get to them when her time came? And if she was alone, as she suspected she would be, who would she send to get these neighbors, assuming they were inclined to help her? A shard of sheer terror of the unknown sliced at Kate. What would she do, she and her baby?

  She glanced over at Cole Youngblood, saw his hard profile … and wondered if she should tell him of her condition. And make up yet another lie, this one about her baby’s father. Or barring that, could she come up with enough reasons to keep him with her until her condition showed itself? Even then, would he stay? Would he even care, married to her or not? Finally, realizing the silence between them had stretched out, and feeling certain that he had purposely allowed it to, she quickly said, “You’ve thought of everything. It all sounds grand.”

  “Yep. Grand.” Cole Youngblood straightened up, refolded the map, and stuck it back in his pocket, all the while eyeing her. “When are you going to tell me what it is you’re really thinking about? Something’s eating at you. Something big and raw and ugly. And don’t tell me it’s not. Because I can see it in your face. What is it, Kate?”

  Chapter Five

  Kate’s breath caught. She couldn’t tell him. She just couldn’t. Not when she didn’t know if he was merely curious, or scouting for details that could get her killed. Well, she hadn’t gotten this far and kept herself alive by making strangers privy to her deepest thoughts and darkest secrets. And she saw no reason to begin doing so now. And especially not with this man, a Talmidge hired-gun.

  So, raising her chin a notch, she lied. “There’s nothing eating at me. Go on about this Guthrie station, please. I’d like to hear more.”

  He steadily considered her. Tension coiled in Kate’s belly. She fought against just blurting out the entire truth. Then, just when she thought she’d break, he said, “All right. The talk is that Guthrie might be the new capital city, which would make your land that much more valuable. But for now it’s been designated as a land office for the run. And if I can get that plot of land for you, I’ll be able to register your claim right away and then get back here quickly to you and the kids. I don’t think I’d be gone for more than one, maybe two, nights.”

  Kate stared at him, envying this man his knowledge and experience and confidence. Darn him, he just made everything sound so reasonable and so easy. And he did sound sincere, as if he really did intend to make the run for her and come back. She looked over at the man’s saddled horse, which was tied to the remuda line. So he had been out and about, like he’d said. Perhaps her stake was in one of those saddlebags.

  She hated how hard it sounded, but getting the land was her priority. Just as getting his sister’s kids taken care of was his problem. Immediately, Kate’s guilty heart tugged at her. She already cared about Joey, Willy, and Lydia. Hadn’t she held the baby girl all night long? And hadn’t she gotten Joey to give in enough to help her with supper? And didn’t Willy dog her every step, just like Kitty … as Lydia had named the skinny hound dog who’d adopted them all? Yes, it was true.

  But Kate also knew that her first priority, even above the land or another woman’s children, was her own child, the one she carried under her heart. So she couldn’t come to care too much for any of these people. And especially not for this man sitting quietly beside her, his gaze fixed on her. She couldn’t get used to letting him direct her actions or do her thinking. And getting her out of scrapes. How was she ever going to learn to do for herself if she didn’t start now?

  After all, he’d made it plain enough all along that he didn’t intend to do much but stake her claim, settle her on it with the kids, and then leave to go find that cousin of his. And after that, they’d all move on … without a thought to her. S
o she couldn’t afford to need him. He didn’t want to be needed. And she didn’t want to need. And she surely didn’t want to cry, which was what she suddenly felt like doing. How was it possible, she wondered, for a body to be surrounded by as many people as she was and still feel all alone?

  To keep from giving in to this foolishness, this self-pity, and sure that Cole’s assessing stare was partly responsible for her tumbling emotions, Kate blurted out her thoughts. “Mr. Youngblood, I appreciate everything you’re doing for me. I truly do. But I didn’t come all this way not to make the run for myself. I want to see my claim firsthand, where my home will be. And I want to see the city of Guthrie, all staked out. So, the kids and I … we’re going with you.”

  Well, she’d surprised him with that. He glared at her and pushed his hat back. “I already told you why you can’t. It’s pure folly, Kate. The wagon would—”

  “I know all about the wagon slowing you down.”

  He didn’t appreciate her interruption one bit. His narrowed eyes said as much. “And about the kids being shaken to death in the back of it? Do you know about that? And yourself maybe being knocked off the buckboard seat and trampled in the rush?”

  Good points, all. She couldn’t deny any of them. And she didn’t intend to do anything as uncalled for as getting those kids, herself, or her baby killed. But she persisted. “I’m not saying I have to be on the front line, Mr. Youngblood—”

  “Cole. You’re to call me Cole. If I’m going to marry you, you’re going to call me by my given name.”

  Momentarily taken aback, Kate could only stare at him … and remind herself that, yes, she was going to marry this man. The very idea, though, still seemed so foreign to her. Imagine. Her, married to Cole Youngblood. She couldn’t believe it. And his insistence on her calling him by his given name. It had her wondering just how many people in his life he’d invited to call him Cole. She’d bet, outside of his family, he could count those people on one hand. Was that why he wanted her to do so now? Was he lonely? Did he want something more than he had? Kate’s thoughts about the gunslinger unsettled her. But especially unsettling to her was how his name on her lips seemed so right.

  But finally she did as he wished, even though she felt her face heat up. “All right … Cole.” Then she rushed on. “All I’m saying is I’m the one who came here to make the run. And I’ll be the one living on the land the rest of my life. So I think I should be the first one to see it. I’ll go slow, so the kids aren’t—”

  “You know how to handle a team? How to drive a wagon that size?” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the lumbering schooner behind them.

  Kate didn’t have to look at it to know how big it was. Or to know that she’d never driven one. “No,” she reluctantly admitted. “But you could teach me.”

  Cole Youngblood’s eyebrows rose … slowly. Very carefully, he placed his coffee mug on the ground beside him. Then he ran a hand over his mouth and looked off through the trees at nothing in particular. And finally, he looked at her. “When, Kate? When am I going to teach you how to handle a team?”

  Kate shrugged, but inside she was shaking like a willow in the wind. “I’m not doing anything now. Are you?”

  His stare intensified. “You’re not making the run. That’s my wagon, my mules, and my niece and nephews. And I say you’re not doing it. There’s no time to teach you. Be reasonable.”

  Kate’s determination increased tenfold. She didn’t like his tone of voice. “I am being reasonable. I’m thinking we still have to get married, even though you said there’s no time for that, either. So why don’t we do both things? Take the kids with us in the wagon … and you can teach me to handle the team on our way into town. And while we’re there, we’ll find the justice of the peace and get married. I’m betting that when you tell him your name, he’ll be glad to give you the few moments a ceremony takes.”

  In one smooth move, Cole Youngblood stood up. Kate held her breath, half fearing he’d pull his gun and shoot her. But all he did was put his hands to his waist and stare down at her. “No. There’s no time. For either one.”

  Disappointment ate at Kate. And had her trying yet another tactic. “I see.” She stood up, the better to be on his level … well, the better to look up into his eyes. “So if you don’t teach me, then when you make the run and afterward marry me and ride off to go find that cousin of yours … who will drive this wagon and team you’ve promised me?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Joey.”

  Kate nodded. She’d thought he’d say that. Yesterday she’d seen Joey handling the team while Cole had come around his wagon to see if his horses had trampled her. “But Joey won’t always be with me. You’re taking him to that cousin of yours. And then what do I do?”

  Cole’s gaze flicked away from hers and then back. “It’ll take me a while to find her. In the meantime, Joey can teach you.”

  Kate wondered at the hesitation in Cole’s manner and voice. That was unusual for him. But she didn’t dwell on it, wanting instead to make her points as quickly as possible. “I suppose he can. But I’d rather he didn’t have all that resting on his shoulders. He’s just a small boy and there’ll be plenty else for him to help with. But still, how long did it take him to learn how to drive that wagon?”

  “Longer than the one day you have, Kate. And will you look around you? This ground is muddy and rutted. And what’s worse, there’re trees and roots and ravines to navigate around. All those things make mules skittish. Now, I admire your gumption. And I understand your wanting to make the run. But our deal was, I’d make the run and you’d—”

  “And I’d stay here with the children. If we were married … first.” Even though her heart pounded, Kate refused to look away. She’d won. She could see it in his eyes. And he didn’t like it one bit. And so again she rushed on with her real point, with what she really wanted. “You’re not my husband yet, Cole.”

  He crossed his arms over his broad, hard-muscled chest. “But if I was, you’d have to obey me, right?”

  The trap door slammed shut. And she’d done it to herself. Then she had a sudden, devilish thought. Maybe not. She let the thought roll around inside her mind and finally take hold. Her decision made, she fought desperately to keep her expression neutral and sincere under his intense scrutiny. “Yes. You’re absolutely right. If you and I were married, I would have to listen to you.”

  Cole lowered himself to the ground, sitting with his knees bent. Again he picked up his coffee mug and sipped at it. But over the rim of the tin cup, he watched her.

  Kate began sweating under the man’s silent scrutiny. And knew this trait of his was probably what made him so good at his profession. Quietly watching and waiting, a whole store of patience, time on his side. It worked, too—on her anyway. He made her want to scream and tell him everything she knew. Just then, he lowered his mug to the ground and laced his fingers together, dangling them between his spread knees. Kate was sure she would get a headache from purposely keeping her eyes so wide and innocent-looking. She didn’t even allow herself to blink until he spoke again.

  “You’re right. That was our deal,” he told her. “I’ll go get the kids up and ready. You fix us some breakfast and then fix yourself up. On the way into town, once we’re out of this bog here, I’ll turn the team over to you.”

  Kate’s spirits perked up. “You will? You’ll show me how to drive them?”

  He looked everywhere but at her, as if he were embarrassed to be caught doing a good deed. “I said I would,” was his fierce reply. “And while we’re in town, we’ll find the justice of the peace and get … married”—he cut his gaze over to her, as if he too were having trouble coming to grips with that notion—“if that’s the only way I can be sure you’ll stay put and not get your fool neck broke.”

  “It is,” Kate assured him, even knowing she was lying. But when had she not been lying to this man? And what choice did she have except to continue to lie to him? Because right now lies we
re the only way she could get what she wanted … and still keep herself alive.

  He nodded, saying, “I thought as much. But get this through your head, Kate Chandler. After we’re hitched, I’m leaving to make the run. By myself. And you’re staying here with the kids while I do. You understand that?”

  She knew his last words were a test—one she didn’t intend to fail. So she blinked, and exhaled … softly, slowly. And flashed a very demure smile to her husband-to-be. “Yes … Cole.”

  That got him. He cocked his head sideways—assessing her sincerity, and no doubt her sudden submissiveness.

  Kate finally had to look away. She quickly sat down and picked up her own mug of now-cooled coffee, raising it to her lips to take a deep drink from it. Not that she wanted any of the bitter brew. But she wanted less for him to see the truth in her eyes. And the truth was … she wanted this marriage to Cole Youngblood more than she’d ever wanted anything else in her life. That, and the coming lesson on handling a team and wagon. Because those were the tools she needed.

  And wasn’t it he, after all, just last evening, who’d told her a married woman with the means to do so could make the run herself? Well, in less than a few hours, she’d be both. Married. And with the means to do so … the buckboard wagon, the lighter vehicle of the two she’d soon own, and two of those very mules right behind them now.

  The land run. She’d come here to make the run … and she still intended to do just that.

  * * *

  “You ready to take the reins?”

  Giddy yet afraid, Kate swallowed and nodded to Cole, who was seated to her left on the spring-supported buckboard seat. Sandwiched among dozens of others, their wagon lumbered along rhythmically on the narrow path leading out of the Walnut Creek camp. From here on out, Kate could see, there wouldn’t be much to do but keep the mules nosed in the right direction, toward the clapboard buildings of Arkansas City.

  Still, she wanted to shout, no, she wasn’t ready. But she had to do this, she told herself. She couldn’t let fear get the best of her now. Not with her whole life depending on the next few days, if not hours. Exhaling, she said, “I am. I’m ready.”