Rania Ropes a Rancher

by Linda K. Hubalek

  “I don’t think Mrs. Elison or Cora has ever been here, have they?” Sarah asked her mother who confirmed no with a shake of her head.

  Dagmar’s cockiness of living in this grand house was rapidly turning into the reality of him being in charge of the contents. Delicate china and crystal were on display in glass cases in the dining room. Polished carved–leg chairs and a settee covered in a gold velvet fabric gave the parlor a very formal look, especially with the brocade wallpaper and maroon velvet drapes. The downstairs bedroom, plus the four upstairs, featured elaborate bedroom furniture; large, thick area rugs; luxurious linens; with matching pitchers, basins and commodes on the wash stands.

  “And you’re going to live here by yourself, Dag?” Hilda asked as she wiped a finger over the massive office desk in the den and lifted her finger to show him the dust on the tip of it.

  “Yes, I’m supposed to. The Elison family will visit now and then, but Mr. Elison said it was better for the house to be lived in than left empty.” Dagmar turned his hat around and around in his fidgeting hands as he spoke. “Believe me, I’ll have you over to dust and polish the brass candlesticks when I get a telegram saying they’re on their way.”

  Luckily Jacob’s mother took over to calm Dagmar’s panic attack. “Dagmar, after lunch we’ll move things around a bit so you’ll feel comfortable living in the downstairs bedroom and kitchen.”

  These two rooms had more space than the sod house that they had first toured at Noah’s homestead, plus so much more sunlight streaming through the house. Hilda was excited about the home and buildings, though, and was anxious to go into Ellsworth to put the land in her name. Jacob could tell she liked the house they were touring now, but would be just as comfortable in a sod home with a dirt floor. The soddie, though, was very dark when you compare it to the light brought in by the grand windows in this house.

  Rania seemed recovered from her fall, but Jacob’s mind flashed back to her body sprawled on the ground whenever he glanced at her bruised forehead. Would he ever get over the panic of seeing Rania’s face covered with blood? She had been in his thoughts day and night since he found her.

  ***

  “Is that the whole flock?” Hilda asked with a chuckle. After lunch they toured the Bar E barn and outbuildings and now stood in a small nearby pasture. Two half–grown lambs curiously looked at the lineup of people in their territory while standing by a huge, white Pyrenees guard dog.

  “The entire flock was sold, but they couldn’t get the final two sheep away from the dog,” Dagmar told her. “Mr. Elison said I could shoot the last sheep for meat. He said to shoot the dog, too. No one can get near him or the sheep.”

  “Are you sure the dog isn’t eating a sheep a day?” Hilda gasped the question. “He’s gigantic, and weighs more than you do!”

  Rania walked away from her family about twenty feet and stopped to see what the dog would do. The dog eyed her, then the group, back at his charges and back to her. After a few minutes, Rania slowly walked closer to the animals.

  “Rania…watch him. No one’s been able to get close to the dog or the sheep without him growling and showing his teeth,” Dagmar warned.

  “Do you know his name?”

  “One of ranch hands said ‘King’, named for this variety of dog that was bred to watch over royalty.”

  “So what and how are you feeding him, if he won’t leave his flock?”

  “I guess he hunts rabbits and such when he feels the flock is safe. There are also two cattle dogs here, so I assume he lets them stand watch at times. I suppose I should to toss him scraps now and then.”

  “Come here, King. It’s okay,” Rania softly spoke when she was within ten feet of the dog. After a moment’s hesitation, the dog lowered his head and ambled toward her like he was finally relaxed and free of his duty. The sheep followed closely behind and then surrounded Rania when the dog lay at Rania’s feet. Rania leaned over, scratching the dog’s head, which brought out a happy groan from the animal.

  “So now what, are you part of his flock?” Dagmar asked in frustration, probably after all the trouble he had heard about between the ranch hands, dog and sheep. “A good sheep guard dog doesn’t mingle with people, nor should they be treated as pets.” But when Rania started walking back to her family, the two sheep followed her—with the dog following behind to guard their backs.

  The big dog gave Rania the first feeling of security she had enjoyed since leaving Texas. She wondered if the dog would leave the Bar E, if it could bring his flock with him. “Dagmar, would it be okay if the group moved with me to our parents’ ranch?”

  “Why would you want to bother?”

  “When you and Hilda move to your new homes, I’ll be there by myself until our parents come back.” Then she quickly added, “I’m sure Mother would like to start a flock for fleece and meat. She and our grandmothers used to card and spin wool into yarn.”

  She wondered if Jacob noticed her quick afterthought to cover up her insecurity. She so hoped that Dagmar and King would cooperate with her request.

  “I think that’s a fine idea,” Cate responded to Rania’s question before Dagmar had a chance to say anything. “We’ll herd them home for you when we leave this afternoon, and Jacob will check on them every day to be sure they get settled in.” Rania felt her cheeks blush when Jacob gave a questioning look to his mother. But it seems like her sons never questioned her courteous commands.

  ***

  The next week, as Dagmar and Hilda grew more excited about having their own homes; Jacob thought Rania seemed to withdraw. She was going to be alone in the house, left to clean and sort through the past owner’s belongings herself.

  The women set up Dagmar’s bachelor rooms in the Bar E house first. Jacob thought they talked about every item they moved—and where to move them—in that big house for the next two days.

  Hilda bought Noah’s place and took an inventory of his sparse household things. Jacob packed Noah’s personal belongings and brought them over to the family home. Hilda made a list of staples and items she wanted to buy and the women took the wagon to town for a shopping spree. For a woman who always dressed in men’s trousers, Jacob couldn’t believe that frilly curtains were the top priority on Hilda’s list.

  As promised, Jacob rode over every day to check the “flock” even though he had plenty to do on his own ranch. The two ranch houses were only a mile apart so it was easy to take a break and visit Rania. His mother seemed attuned with Rania’s insecurities and drove over at different times with produce from her garden, or eggs and milk. Jacob realized that Rania had to find her own way of being comfortable in her new life, though. He’d have to practice his patience until he could ask to be included in it.

  Chapter 4

  “Hello the house and Rania!”

  “What are you doing over here with a draft horse?” Rania asked as she strolled out of the house while flipping the drying towel on top of her shoulder. Rania had been washing dishes when she heard the harness clattering outside. Jacob was riding the draft bareback, sitting behind the work collar and harness the horse was wearing.

  “Come over to work your garden plot. There’s a single plow in the barn so I just needed to bring the right horse for the job. I assume you want the garden in the same spot Sam had it?”

  “And what am I going to plant in this garden?”

  “Grow whatever your family would like to eat this winter. You said there were some seeds in jars in the cellar, and of course Ma sent seeds over for you too,” Jacob replied as he pulled a small paper–wrapped package out of his left boot. “I’ll hitch the horse to the plow and meet you in the garden.”

  “Are you going to work Hilda’s garden too?” Rania couldn’t help asking.

  “I’ve already been there this morning and worked her ground. Thought I’d do yours second so I can help you plant and get rewarded with dinner.”

  Rania couldn’t help but smile back at the flash of dimples in the man’s cheeks. If s
he didn’t watch it, she could fall in love with Jacob. But even if he showed interest in her, how would that work—if she had another man’s baby growing inside her?

  ***

  “What’s your favorite kind of pickle?” Jacob was digging holes with the hoe while Rania trailing behind, dropping cucumber seeds in the holes, before kicking a bit of soil over the seeds and stepping on the spot to cover them.

  “Dill,” answered Rania. She was getting used to his question game, so knew to answer whatever came to her mind first.

  “Well mine is ‘Bread and Butter’ so be sure to preserve some jars of that for me, too, when you harvest all these cucumbers.” They had planted cucumbers, corn, beans and squash seeds so far this morning. The leftover potatoes from last winter that were left in the cellar had been brought upstairs already, cut into eye pieces, and lay drying out in the sun. Jacob said he’d help plant them after dinner, hinting he really meant he wanted to share a meal with her.

  Luckily Rania had some bread, butter and eggs left over from Cate’s visit the day before. It seemed like Jacob had a knack for arriving around the noon meal, so she needed to start planning ahead for company meals. It was a routine she really enjoyed and looked forward to each day. I wish it could be like this every day. Jacob would be a loving husband and a protective father.

  Jacob entered the house and washed on the back porch. Then before she had time to clear the table, Jacob started to set things aside for her. Sam’s writing box, which he remembered from visiting the man, was on the table.

  “Rania, have you opened this box yet?”

  “No, I haven’t found a key. I hear things inside when I shake the box so I wish I could open it. There might be letters that need to be answered or sent on to his family.”

  “It might hold important papers like the deed to this homestead, too.” Jacob dug his pen knife out of his pocket and opened a small blade. Who knows where the key might be, so he’d pry it open. “If I can’t get the lock opened with my knife, I’ll check the tool shed for something else to use.”

  ***

  After lunch Jacob opened the writing box, spread the contents out on the kitchen table and they began sorting and reading the papers.

  “Jacob, there’s a stack of letters from a Millie Donovan from Chicago. The postmarks start last fall and…this last one is dated March. What about his mail since Sam passed?”

  “The postmaster knew he died, so I assume he sent letters back to the senders.”

  Rania opened the newest letter to read first. After a quick scan, she started over, telling Jacob the highlights of the contents. “Oh, Jacob, this letter from Millie says her sister in Missouri is expecting a baby…so she’s leaving Chicago now—which would have been in March—and she will be with her sister until early May when she, Millie, will travel on to Kansas to meet Sam. She looks forward to becoming his bride!”

  After that discovery, they read the other letters starting from the beginning, learning that Millie and Sam met through a mail–order bride advertisement. Apparently Sam had asked her to move to Kansas, because they read Millie’s acceptance in one of the letters.

  “There’s also an envelope with a woman’s wedding ring in it,” Rania said as she handed the letter over to Jacob.

  Jacob took out the simple gold band, holding it between his thumb and finger, secretly wondering what it would look like on Rania’s ring finger. “Looks like Sam was ready for the ceremony. I wonder if the preacher in town knew about this. And how do we get word to the unsuspecting woman that she needs to stay at her sister’s?”

  “I wonder if Sam sent a picture of himself to her. There was no picture of Millie in any letter.” Rania got out of her seat, and walked into the bedroom, calling back over her shoulder, “I’ve packed all his personal things in a box that I thought we should send to his family. There are photos in the box, so maybe Millie’s picture is in it.”

  Minutes later Rania and Jacob had four individual photos of women laid out on the table. “These could be family members, or Millie, or other women he’s corresponded with in the past,” pondered Rania.

  “They are all fairly young women; no names written on the back of the photos. Did Millie describe her features in any of the letters?”

  “No,” confessed Rania. “It was more ‘by my photo you’ll recognize me at the train station’ instead of her telling him her hair or eye coloring. No mention of what color of hat or dress she’d be wearing either.”

  “Because Millie didn’t mention her sister’s name or town, we have no way of contacting Millie. It sounds like she’ll be arriving soon, too. I suppose we should give these letters and the photos to Adam, and he can meet the train each day and try to intercept her. I hope she has funds to travel back to her sister, because there’s no reason for her to stay here.”

  ***

  “What color portrayed your childhood?” Jacob asked Rania as they watched King herd the two sheep back into the pasture after coming up to drink in the water tank by the barn.

  He let that sink into her mind and then continued. “What’s your childhood color?” Jacob asked again. He glanced at Rania, but she seemed deep in thought, either about his question, or something else on her mind.

  Jacob responded to his own question since Rania didn’t answer, “I’d say mine was ‘Union Blue’. We lived in Illinois just as the War Between the States exploded with the attack on Fort Sumter in South Carolina in 1861. When we heard the news a few days later, Pa said we were heading west if the war wasn’t settled soon. When battles continued into the next year, our farm was sold and we were on the road by early spring. My grandparents were Quakers, and instilled in Pa that fighting and slavery were wrong. He did not want his sons drawn into the battles in the war.”

  Rania looked at him. “Well I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t want my sons in a war either. How old were you?”

  “I was fourteen and wanted to get in on the fighting so bad…that’s all I talked about. It seemed so exciting and patriotic. I wanted to be wearing Union Blue and carry Pa’s old Springfield Model 1855 rifle musket.

  “Adam was a year older than me and more into the rights and wrongs of the states leaving the Union. You can guess why he’s a marshal now.”

  Jacob looked her way to see if she’d comment with a nod or word, but now her eyes were looking toward the horizon, so Jacob just kept talking. “Adam still has that same need to correct the wrongs that happen in society. Everything is pretty much right or wrong to Clear Creek’s marshal. He sees things in black and white, no gray areas to his way of thinking at all.

  “My younger brother, Noah, just wanted to tag along with the two of us. He’s more of a happy–go–lucky guy, but very loyal to his family and friends.

  “My parents were afraid we’d all three end up fighting in the war, so they decided to put some distance between us and the recruiting people.

  “I was upset with moving and losing out on my dream of being a Union soldier, but now I’m glad I didn’t participate in the battles. The war’s end brought a whole lot of soldiers west, many disabled, trying to run from their nightmares, having no family or home left, especially if they came from the Confederate states that were burned and ravaged. I sometimes feel guilty when men mock me for staying out of the war, but I sleep easier at night because of my Quaker–minded father’s decision.”

  Jacob fell silent, but still thinking back to moving. Kansas had obtained statehood the year before, but the eastern part of the state was fighting with Missouri about slavery issues, so his family kept going west until they settled near a trading ranch.

  “But we still ended up with soldiers around us a few years later when the Indians became hostile with all the settlers moving in on their land. That’s how Fort Harker got started and my wish of wearing Union Blue flared up again. I was a seventeen–year–old, ready to ride into battle…although it was on the prairie instead of the Civil War battlefield. Pa took us boys over to the fort when a struggling unit was bri
nging wounded soldiers back from a skirmish. I really think that day set the destiny of career choices for all of us. Adam wanted to go into law enforcement; I wanted to run a ranch to supply the army with food and livestock, and Noah decided he wanted to go back to Illinois.”

  Jacob fell silent, thinking how the Civil War changed all their lives.

  “Falun Red.” Jacob glanced sideways at Rania when she spoke.

  “It’s a deep red color that most homes in Sweden are painted. The paint is made of water, rye flour, linseed oil and the tailings from the copper mines of Falun.

  “The idyllic place every Swedish woman wanted was a pretty, red cottage, bordered with flowers, and a field of potatoes beside it.” But the color from the mine slimes came with a price.

  Jacob leaned against the board fence, listening to Rania as she opened up about her childhood.

  “My father worked in the depths of a copper mine and came home every night black from soot, and stank from sweat and rock. He’d spend his day in the dark heat, digging and breaking out the ore, and setting it on fire to break up overnight. Next morning, they’d put out the fires, and start over again. Most nights he spent drinking to put out the thirst and memories. Most miners were drunks.”

  Rania sighed, but continued after a moment. “Momma had a cousin from a nearby parish who was leaving for America to work on a Texas ranch. The rancher had ties with our area and, for years, had been paying ship passage for families who would work at his ranch.

  “Momma knew Leif and Dagmar would be joining our father in the mines soon, just as several generations before them had done. That’s all our men knew to do, and they would die young, too.”

  Rania stopped talking but now Jacob wanted to know more, so he asked, “So your parents decided to move to America?”

  She gave a slight laugh when he asked. “I was only nine at the time, but I remember my very drunk father being coerced onto the ship, and he was very belligerent for at least a week at sea.” Her eyes looked like she was back on the ocean staring at the waves of water instead of grass. “But weeks later we had a new, sober father, who had a better outlook on life when we reached America’s shore. My mother’s decision to move to Texas saved my father and our family.”