by Tia Siren
A light breeze wafted its way past, lifting at some stray strands that became untucked from her braided hair. For a moment, she thought she heard the sound of horse hooves in the distance, but she brushed off the idea as her imagination once again getting carried away. In the city, there were so many sounds and sights that rarely did anything jump out in particular. Everything melded together after a while. But out in the country, with such vast expanses of quiet, each noise was something new to her, and entirely unfamiliar.
There was a slight rim siding below the window of the car. If she could scale along the rim as a step, perhaps she would be able to get down and…
What then? Cora could at least hide until the bandits passed, maybe summoned for help somehow. They weren’t to be too far from their destination anyway…
She could work out the details later. For now, the thrill awaited.
Cora propped herself, though rather clumsily, at the sill, and over, her hands keeping at the window sill, and using her feet to prop against the outside wall of the car as she slowly felt for the rim below her. When her boot’s toe caught on, she heaved a sigh.
But then the unthinkable began to happen. A loud wheezing sounded from far ahead the train, as if the brakes…
“Oh no,” Cora mumbled.
The train began to move. Had the robbers decided on a faster getaway? And were they taking everyone along with them?
As Cora began to feel a sudden panic, the sound of horse hooves once again broke up her thoughts. It really was the sound of hooves. They were gaining closer, against the train as it began to gain speed. It was near.
“Oof!” Cora felt a sudden wrench at her waist, a strong arm draping across and lurching her off the side of the train car. She soon found herself draped across a galloping horse like a sack of flour. Her sides buffeted against the saddle uncomfortably.
“It’s alright, ma’am, I’ve got you.”
The smooth, deep sound of a man’s voice made Cora instantly grow hot in the face.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Cora continued to shout at the unknown assailant while trying to maintain her balance. “No one just yanks on a lady like that and--and slings her over your horse like some potato sack!”
The man laughed. “A lady wouldn’t be caught dead sporting that particular style, Miss. I can guarantee that.”
She attempted to pull down at her dress, suddenly conscious of her underthings showing, but her current position demanded that she hold on.
“Don’t look, you disgusting man!”
He laughed again.
“I’m not interested in your type,” he shouted.
Cora grew more furious. Was he entertained in all this?
“And what--what exactly--” she hiccuped between words, and braced herself against the jostling of the saddle. “What type am I exactly?”
The man pulled on the reins and gave a steadying “whoa” to his horse as they came to a stop, the train now out of site, barreling toward the station, with the intent to ride on past, no doubt.
Cora welcomed the steadiness, and relaxed for a brief moment, soon interrupted by the man’s low, mocking laugh.
“The type who tries to make a clean break out the side of a train during a heist,” he said. Cora’s face grew hot at the amusement in his voice. “That’s a strange kind of woman I want nothing to do with.”
Cora went limp, slumping as she sighed on the horse.
“Then thankfully, you don’t have to do anything with such a lady--”
“No, not a lady,” he mused. “Just a woman.”
“Well that’s just about all I can handle,” she exclaimed. Cora had enough. She clumsily slid off the horse, her boots hitting the ground a bit off-kilter. But with a bit of maneuvering and luck to save-face, Cora steadied herself and began to rush away from the man.
“Wait!” he called out.
Cora shook her dress free so that it fell once again to her feet, not daring to look back at the man who caught her.
“Who does he think he is?” she said to herself. “Some sort of chivalrous prince who thinks he can just wander along and pick up damsels in distress along the rail? These Western territory men are really something else.”
She kicked at the grass in front of her as she tried to straighten out her braid. “I would know,” she continued to rant under her breath. “I lived in New York City for crying out loud. The men can’t get any worse.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” she heard a shout and the sound of a horse trotting its way towards her.
Even when his shadow began to eclipse her, she refused to look.
“I’m going into town. I can’t be far. I’m going to get help.”
“It’s about three and a half miles into town. Are you sure you want to walk all the way?”
Cora felt her fists ball, and her cheeks grow hot.
“I would rather walk, than to be dragged along like some sort of produce sack.”
He laughed. “Very well.”
She wandered on toward town, or the general direction she seemed to be needing. Darker clouds began to gather, but Cora was of no mind to it. She walked on in silence, with the horse-man following silently beside.
Cora took a moment to glance beside her. The muscular, red-brown horse rode dutifully under the man whose broad hands commanded the reigns. His white button down was a bit disheveled at the collar, and Cora found her cheeks to be growing warm, watching him sit atop his steed, his hat shadowing his dark brown hair, some tousled bangs falling before his eyes, and his rough but clean jaw making his overall appearance to seem more well-to-do than she anticipated a rugged horseman in the West.
He seemed to be looking away, not noticing her glance, but then the edge of his lip widened to reveal a small dimple at his cheek, and his bright blue eyes flashed their way down toward her direction.
“Are you still intent on being so stubborn?” he said.
Cora looked away in an instant, embarrassed, and fuming at letting her mind wander.
“Certainly not all men from this part of the country are so--so--incredibly forward and--and--quite frankly, uncouth.”
“Uncouth?” he feigned sounding hurt, but she could tell that he was slightly amused. “Says the Miss who was shouting at me not too many moments ago--saying things a gentleman should never repeat.”
They continued to walk on, when Cora’s dress snagged on a drying, thorned shrub. She teased frustratedly at her dress, battling against the bush.
“This wilderness is impossible!”
At once, she reached back with a pull, her dress finally being released, though not without a tear, and fell back onto her bottom, hitting an open patch of moist dirt.
She immediately felt her cheeks glow red.
“Now will you reconsider?” The man on the horse lent his hand down for her as she steadied herself upright, attempting to brush off the mud, but only smearing it further down the backside of her dress. The clouds began to gather more darkly, and Cora took a second thought.
“If I let you give me a ride, you should know…” She sighed and placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t like you,” she pointed up at him.
“Blunt,” he pursed his lips. “I would say I like that in a woman, but in this case...I couldn’t care less.”
“Fine,” she said.
“Fine,” he said.
And they rode on in silence.
Chapter 3
“Joshua Dansby,” Sheriff Pickett greeted Joshua and Cora as they rode in toward the station. A closed buggy door was being closed and carted off by the Deputy policeman.
“Sheriff,” Joshua tipped his hat and slung off.
The two men shook hands and Joshua got a good look at the scene. The robbers were already being brought into town, and the passengers were being escorted off of the train, and onto the platform.
“Glad you made it in time,” Joshua said.
“Well, thankfully I
wasn’t too far along from the area,” Sheriff Pickett tipped his hat toward Cora, still sitting atop the horse, silent and her face flushed.
“Afternoon ma’am,” he said.
Cora nodded, red-cheeked and turned forward once again, clearly embarrassed to be seen with a strange man in such a way.
“Seems you tried to take matters into your own hands,” Sheriff Pickett laughed.
“When I got out there, they were already making off with the train. Glad the conductor seems to have taken his engine back.” He nodded in the distance to a bruised and bloodied conductor holding a wet rag to his face, clearly having been in an altercation.
“Well,” Joshua said. “It looks like there’ll be a delay.”
The two men surveyed the group of confused and stunned passengers. Joshua took a glance toward the sky, the clouds now dark as ever, ready to burst at any moment.
“Sheriff,” Joshua said. “Feel free to invite all the passengers to be able to stay the night at the Stanton. There are plenty of rooms open, and it will be all on me.”
“That’s mighty generous of you, Mr. Dansby,” the Sheriff replied.
“It’s the least I could do,” Joshua said.
The two parted ways as the Sheriff continued toward the platform, making arrangements for transportation and informing everyone about Mr. Dansby’s offer. It would be at least a day or two before the Lil’ Miss would be back in commission, and so all were offered a stay at the best hotel in town, The Stanton.
Owned by Joshua Dansby’s family, as were most of the business endeavors in the town, the Stanton was a prized jewel of the Western territory. It had a rustic charm that made it so all businessmen and wayfarers were pressed to stop by when coming through these parts. It was in convenient proximity to the mainstay of the town, but overlooked the rolling, unmarked hills of the prairie, a paradise in the West.
Joshua turned to the woman who still sat upon Kan, who was biding his time eating the grass by his feet.
“Would you like to come down?”
She refused to look at him, and he laughed at her indignation. She was an annoyingly stubborn woman. He was glad he only had to deal with her just this once.
“Alright,” she said. “I...I might need some help.”
Her face was red, and for a moment Joshua was almost taken aback by the way her cheeks flushed, and her braid fell to the side and framed her face.
“Oh, so now you want my help?” he said.
He helped her down, and she swayed as her feet hit the ground.
“You’ve never been on a horse before?” he mused, her large, brown eyes open wide as she attempted to figure out how to walk on the ground again.
“Of course not,” she said. “And I’m perfectly fine. Just a little...tired from being tossed around by the likes of you!”
She forced herself to stand up straight, but Joshua could tell by her face that her legs were not quite at ease with the transition from horse to land.
“Anyway, I have to be going. There’s someone I’m supposed to meet today,” she continued, snubbly. “Someone, I’m sure, who has a lot more class than you.”
Joshua smirked, his eyes glinting even beneath the shadow of his hat. “As classy as you?” He laughed and began walking toward the station platform, fully aware that the woman behind him must have been fuming.
I just can’t stand the hot headed ones, he thought to himself. Thankfully, I don’t have to.
Most people had already made their way in buggies toward town, and The Stanton. There weren’t a great lot of many travelers that tended to head so far east, and so only a few trips were able to bring the people to and fro. Joshua and Cora waited on opposite ends of the platform. Cora had her eyes shift through the clusters of people that remained, or those crew and men who still worked nearby.
Joshua Dansby, with his coat now returned from Mr. Stanfield, fixed at his hair, combing it back with his long fingers, and placing his hat atop. He straightened his collar and cuffs, buttoning his suit. He looked once again as if a man who would much sooner be attending an event at The Stanton, than a man who had been riding across country with his horse.
By now, what little tinge of embarrassment or nervousness Joshua had felt, seemed to have dissipated and he was well-ready to present himself to the incoming bride.
Perhaps it was his meeting earlier, with a woman so wild and untamed, that he felt ready to accept what came next. Anything seemed better than that. He hoped, at least, that she would be not entirely unpleasant to look at, though he had really paid no mind to age or looks. He needed a woman of good breeding if he was going to successfully convince his family…
“If you don’t mind me asking, Mr. Dansby,” Mr. Stanfield came and stood beside Joshua who was lost in his future calculations. “Who exactly are you looking for?”
Joshua pursed his lips, shifting his eyes to the side then back to Mr. Stanfield.
“Please don’t repeat this anywhere else, or to anyone else,” he began.
Mr. Stanfield nodded, assuredly. “Of course, Mr. Dansby. I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Joshua coughed and made his voice low, lowering himself toward the shorter Mr. Standfield. “I’m waiting for a woman.”
“A woman, Mr. Dansby?” Mr. Stanfield’s voice burled underneath his mustache.
Joshua feigned clearing his throat and stood once again upright, his hands fixing at his suit.
After a moment of silence, and perhaps trying to comprehend exactly what the young, brooding man meant, Stanfield’s red face soon puffed round at the sides with a smile.
“Oh, Mr. Dansby! Why, congratulations!”
Joshua’s face gave a hint of red, but he tipped his hat, using the shadow to hide any evidence.
Mr. Stanfield surveyed the crowd of people that remained near the post, and another group of people boarded a buggy, headed toward town.
“Mr. Dansby, perhaps if you described her, I can help you to locate her.”
“I’m afraid you know just about as much as I do, Mr. Stanfield,” Joshua muttered.
Mr. Stanfield’s eyes widened.
“Oh--oh my. Well then. Perhaps…”
The two of them scanned the area, and still no obvious choices.
“I don’t understand,” Joshua began. “She was definitely supposed to be on this train...she--”
Joshua stopped mid-sentence, an uneasy feeling now dawning on him.
He turned around to meet eyes with Cora on the other end of the platform, her face telling of her own kind of realization.
“You,” he shouted.
“You yourself!” she shouted back.
The two of them marched toward one another, livid at the notion.
“You lied to me!” Joshua called as he neared.
“You aren’t exactly a prize yourself,” Cora sneered.
Then, only a breath away, Joshua Dansby and Cora Sutton met, for the first time to each other, and the second time that day.
Chapter 4
“A deal is a deal,” Joshua Dansby paced outside, in front of the small house of the town minister.
“Exactly. A word is a word,” Cora folded her arms, her foot tapping in the grass nearby.
Joshua let out a snort. “And exactly how much is a word worth from a Cora LeBlanc?”
“Why does it matter? You live in the rugged wilderness,” Cora’s hands flew into the air. “Why do you need a fancy, French aristocrat in the middle of this dust heap?”
Joshua wiped at his jaw, a hand on his hip, sending a darting look to Cora.
“A girl like you would never understand.”
“Girl?” Cora was taken aback.
Joshua pointed his finger at her. “Yes, girl. You thought you’d take advantage of an opportunity, come here, get rich, live some hokey fairytale, did you?”
Cora rolled her eyes. “Believe me, this is anything but a fairytale.”
“You don’t understan
d,” Joshua sighed, and locked eyes with Cora. For the first moment since they had met, Cora thought she noticed real desperation and sadness in his eyes, and not the gleaming playfulness he first showed off before they knew. She looked away.
“My name is Joshua Dansby,” he said.
“I know that already,” Cora sighed.
“--I know, but you don’t understand what that means.” Joshua held his hand to his chest. “I’m the Joshua Dansby. Now, I know that doesn’t mean much to you, coming from the shady streets of New York City--”
Cora opened her mouth in protest, but Joshua stopped her.
“Here,” he said, “that means that I’m the heir of the Dansby fortune. I’m the only son of Michael Wetherby Dansby, who’s the grandson of Jacob Thomas Dansby, who was the founder of this town. He cultivated the land, practically built the town himself. Responsible for the wellbeing of the people, of the cattle ranches, of ensuring the best for this whole region--he’s the one who brought the rail to us, and made jobs open for so many people moving out here..”
For a moment, Cora felt her heart beating a little faster. Joshua Dansby began to be more animated as he spoke, and she almost forgot their earlier stint.
“All of that is supposed to go to me, or at least, I thought it would. Turns out that a man named Walter Howell, my father’s cousin, has rights to the inheritance. And my stubborn, stubborn old fool of a grandfather, when he made his will to grant me the land, he had one stipulation. You know what that was? I had to be married. Married!”
Joshua took of his hat and ran his hand through his hair, and Cora’s heart beat once again at the sight, though she reprimanded herself inwardly for it.
“It’s the 1870s for crying out loud,” he continued. “If a man wants to make a living, he ought to be able to do it all without a wife. But the old man was just so old-fashioned.” Joshua sighed. “That’s why I needed a wife. And a well-bred one at that. There’s a board of directors I have to go up against, and Walter’s got his lawyers watching my every move. There’s no way you’d last one day in high society. New York or not, I can tell you’re just a regular miss off the street.”
He turned his back away, but not without avoiding Cora who spun her way around to face him.