Christina and Mitchell
Page 3
It was an advertisement. Boarding House in Rocky Ridge, Colorado for brides coming west. Women only. Board, meals, and lessons provided. Cheap. See the Jessups. Confused, she read it over several times until it finally began to sink in. An offer for mail order brides.
She dropped the paper like it was hot and the Bible quickly slid from her grip. Had her mother wanted to send her off to be married? The Bible laid there on the floor, mocking her. Swallowing hard, Christina burrowed under the covers. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to tell herself that she was only imagining this.
But as the next week passed, Christina couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d found. She worked hard to keep away from the Good Book, ignoring it and hopping over it. This gave her the energy she needed to stay out of the room and slowly return to her duties. While she couldn’t find the strength to go outside past the graves, she returned to the kitchen and started cooking again. It gave her the time she needed to think.
“They called him a horse thief,” her mother had told her one evening, a few days before she died. “They wanted to hang him, but we had a good sheriff then. Since no one could prove it, he said that he couldn’t be touched. He told me his name was Running Water, or at least that was the one I could pronounce.” She had chuckled at that, and it had turned into a coughing fit.
Christina had brought her a glass of water. “You shouldn’t speak, Mother. You need to regain your strength.”
Mother had shaken her head. “Nonsense. It’s time I told you this story, Christina. I’ve kept it to myself for far too long. Do you know what he called me when we met?”
Christina bit her bottom lip and shook her head.
“Ehawee. That means Laughing Maiden. Oh, he was so handsome. You remind me of him so much, and I’m so grateful for that. It’s comforting to see a little of him when I look at you.”
Touching her dark hair, Christina smiled.
“We only had two years, and he was often away with his people until they discovered he was visiting me. When they sent him away, Running Water told me it was worth it for the life we would have together. He promised to build me a home, and we would go west after you were born. We were wed after his way, by a spiritual leader of his people who married us in secret. No pastor would have ever done it for us, but he was a good friend to your father and never told a soul. It was a lovely ceremony, surrounded by flowers and under an apple tree. You would have loved it, Christina.”
She could hear the love in her mother’s voice, even through the exhaustion taking over her body. Her mother smiled and stroked her cheek. Her fingers were chilly, and Christina pulled her hand between hers, rubbing it for warmth. “What was he like?”
“Charming, and he had such a way with horses. That’s how we met, you know. I went out riding further than usual and was turned around. I was lost, and it grew late. My horse threw a shoe, and he found me. His English wasn’t very good, but he built me a fire and gave me his blanket. We spent all night exchanging words as best we could until the sun came up. After Running Water helped my horse back to his feet, he brought me home. I made him supper in gratitude, and then he began stopping by our home nearly every day.
“It terrified Ruby at first, but he was charming and sweet. When she realized how much I cared for him, then she accepted him and came to care for him very much. He loved you, do you know that?”
Tears stung in the corners of her eyes, and Christina had sniffed, hiding her face in her mother’s blanket. It only made her sadder, to know how good things had been before she was born. “But I don’t remember him.”
Her mother patted her head tenderly. “When I told him that you were on your way, he shouted for joy. I laughed so hard that I cried. I was worried that he would be mad, or that something bad would happen. But oh, he was so happy. The day you were born, he told me that your cries were those of a warrior maiden. You were christened as our Christina, but you were Mahpiya to him.”
Christina had not heard that before. Her heart hammered in her chest as she peered up at her mother, those red-rimmed eyes and shaky hands. “Mahpiya? What does that mean?”
The woman was growing drowsy and her breathing was ragged. “The clouds and the sky,” her mother had yawned. “And our Heaven. You were our Heaven, dear.” She drifted to sleep then, and her body had caved to the fever. Christina sat there all night, pondering her mother’s words.
Jane had only wanted the best for her. Standing at the table, looking at the three plates that were set out for supper, Christina slowly realized that the advertisement wasn’t a problem. Her mother wanted her to have happiness, the joy she’d experienced with Running Water. She wanted her to be cared for. And they all knew she wouldn’t find anything good in Virginia.
“I’m leaving,” Christina announced softly that evening. She took a deep breath as her aunt and uncle looked at each other. The young woman slid the newspaper clipping across the table. “To Colorado.”
Ruby stared at it for a long moment before she handed it to Steven. “Are you certain?”
“Yes,” Christina nodded. “I think it might be the best thing, for all of us. I won’t be in your way, and… and I need a fresh start. I found it in Mother’s Bible and I think she wanted this for me. Thank you so much for raising me, for helping us, for everything. But I think it’s best that I go.” Her voice cracked and she looked away.
Ruby hurried around the table, grabbing Christina in her arms with tears in her eyes. She had been a big sister to Christina, and she realized she had never been without her aunt. The woman reminded her again of her mother, and they wept quietly, clinging to each other. Though it went unsaid, they all knew Christina couldn’t have stayed there forever.
“We’ll buy your ticket,” Steven sighed, a lingering sadness in his voice. “And no matter what, you’re always welcome back here if anything changes or goes wrong. You know this, right, Christina? You’re family we love you so very much.”
5
Mitchell
Mitchell stopped and cocked his head, wondering if he’d heard right. While he had heard plenty of strange things in the past, he wasn’t sure how to acknowledge this. Frowning, he rubbed his ear and looked at the man he barely knew. “Pardon me?”
But Matthew Connor wasn’t fazed and shrugged as though it were nothing. Perhaps he was the type of man to hand out jobs whenever he felt like doing so. “You sound smart and you seem like a man who keeps to himself. I need a good hand and if you need a job, I can give you one. In fact, my last foreman just quit because he couldn’t take the cold. I don’t blame him,” Matthew added sheepishly, “but it was mighty inconvenient.”
Their items were paid for before Mitchell could find his voice. Trying to sort this out, he squinted at the man to see if this was a joke. “You’d just give me a job, no questions asked?”
Matthew chuckled. “How about this, Mitch? You come out and see my spread if you’re not doing anything else today. See the layout, have some supper, and we can talk expenses. You’re under no obligation or anything. What do you say?”
While he wasn’t certain what he had said in response to that, Mitchell found himself climbing back onto his horse, newly bought buttons tucked away, and following Matthew Connor out of town. It was an hour’s ride away but he didn’t mind. The fresh air did him good, and the tension eased from his shoulders.
And the man kept to his word. After reaching the Circle C ranch, Mitchell met the man’s wife, Eleanor, and two children before heading up the hill to see the layout of the land. It was a nice place, but there was much work to be done. Most of it was still wild and could be better partitioned off to prepare for possible droughts and planting. The ranch was swell, and Mitchell helped the other ranch hands corral the cows before stopping for supper.
“I’ll double that,” Matthew offered later that evening, after a delicious supper and the two of them were enjoying the fireplace with coffee in hand. “I’ll double what you’ve been paid, and you’ve got board in back with t
he other men. Two meals a day and food for your horse. You’re an impressive gentleman and I like the way you work. Have we got a deal?”
Mitchell grinned and shook hands before found himself telling Harrison later that evening that he was quitting. Somehow, he’d found a place to stay for a longer period than just a few nights. It was a new concept for him, but everything about the Circle C ranch and Matthew Connor felt right. The old man had given him a good long look and took several deep breaths on his rolled-up cigarette before saying anything.
“About time,” Harrison drawled, to his surprise. “Best of luck, boy. The other drivers are gonna be mighty unhappy,” he added with a chuckle. “Oh boy, now they might have to start carrying their weight around here!”
He left the man still laughing to himself and went to tell the rest of the lot. The other cattle drivers grumbled at his departure in the morning, but they otherwise parted on good terms. After his last night with the group, he collected his final pay, and they all went their separate ways. The cattlemen headed towards Wyoming and Mitchell went towards the Circle C. And his new future.
“Just the two of us now, Rascal.” He sighed as he looked around at the clear skies and stroked his horse’s neck as they went. “It’ll be a mighty big change, but I’m hoping things go well.”
The horse jerked his head as though he were listening, and Mitchell chuckled. Together they drove down the road, enjoying the sun on their faces. Matthew gave them the afternoon to get settled, and Mitchell put his horse in the stable with the intent to explore.
“Howdy, I’m Kyle.” A young man waved from a fence where several of the men were watching someone in the ring. Kyle had a lazy smile and long limbs, and the man in the ring was short and portly. Neither of them were a match for the stallion in the ring that was prancing anxiously to evade capture. Mitchell paused and went over, tipping his hat to Kyle and the other men.
“Howdy,” he said finally. “New horse to break in?”
The young man nodded, and Mitchell decided he couldn’t be older than eighteen. The rest of the men were at differing points in their lives, a few in their forties and a few near his age. Seven men hung outside the ring, hooting and hollering to the man in the center, a man named Ellis. They cheered him on and Mitchell studied the scene before him carefully.
“He’s a little older,” Kyle was saying, “but Matthew liked the look of the horse and purchased him with the other wild ones. You need good horses for a sprawl like this, after all, and there’s several more where this one came from.”
He nodded carefully but frowned when Ellis pulled out a whip. “Is Mr. Connor putting anyone in charge of the horses here? To train them, I mean?”
Kyle shrugged, not really understanding. “We all take turns.”
“Like that?” Mitchell asked in disbelief as Ellis started playing with the whip. On his first attempt, it flung back and hit his backside. He jumped, and the other men roared with laughter. Shaking his head, Mitchell suppressed the urge to stay back in the shadows unnoticed because he couldn’t allow an animal to suffer like that. Immediately he hopped over the fence.
“Hey now,” Kyle called out in protest. “It’s not your turn!”
But that didn’t matter. The other men shouted out as well, but Mitchell blocked them out. Frowning, he set his hat back and waved an arm to Ellis. The man realized he was there and stared as he fumbled unfamiliarly with the whip. “What’s going on?” he said in an injured tone. “I’m not done yet.”
“Yes, you are,” Mitchell told him. “Now hand that over.” Gritting his teeth, he snatched the whip and tossed it outside the ring. “Now get out of here.” Ellis was too stunned to do anything else, and staggered back, eyeing him suspiciously. The other men were still calling out, but he wasn’t listening.
People could be like that. Obstinate, selfish, and they’d do anything for attention. Pulling his hat off, he hung it on a post and turned to the horse in the corral who was still jerking around and pawing the ground. He was anxious in this confined space, scared and uncontrollable. It wasn’t helping to have strangers shouting at him, either. Mitchell knew how he felt and kept his hands low and splayed near his waist as a gesture of good will.
“Hey, fellow,” he murmured. “Hey now, it’s all right. It’s going to be just fine.” Keeping his voice level, Mitchell started walking around the horse, inching closer but at an angle that didn’t make it look like he was actually heading towards him.
It took work, of course. But soon the men quieted down, watching his strategy. Mitchell talked softly in a soothing tone and managed to get nearly within arm’s reach before the horse rallied, kicked up his legs, and trotted in the other direction. But he would be prevented from jumping the fence, and he’d pace over there anxiously. This happened over and over again.
The people disappeared, and Mitchell focused on the Mustang before him. The creature was stunning with a dark coat and three black stockings. His hair was long ebony across his back with a thick tail. That muscle in his legs and shoulders was immense, and he clearly had a lot of power. It made him all the more beautiful.
Mitchell knew he had the tendency to see more in horses than in people. But with good reason, for the latter tended to be judgmental liars and hypocrites. On the other hand, a horse was constant and they were steady. Most of his life was spent focusing on the care of horses and helping to capture and break them in gently. He’d done it on several of the drives, and that’s how he’d found his current Appaloosa, Rascal. And the best part was that none of them judged him on his looks and besides this moment, were never scared of him.
Now he worked on this, helping the horse to recognize his voice so he understood he was not facing a threat. It was important to become friends first, Mitchell knew, and become familiar before trying anything. A whip only invited more fear and more anger, and those never boded well in these instances.
“That’s right, boy, that’s right. You just take it easy and we’re going to say hello whenever you’re ready. Maybe not now, maybe not today. We’re going to do it your way, but it will happen. It’s all on you and all up to you, so don’t you worry about me. Just take it easy, and you can calm yourself down. There’s no need to worry. They’re not going to touch you.”
The horse bucked, but he held his ground. Standing there, Mitchell tried to catch the horse’s eyes. He shook his head several times and Mitchell stopped walking towards him, letting the animal test his limits. It got to the point that they followed each other nearly around the entire pen, but the horse stopped once he was between the crowd of people outside the fence and Mitchell. Stuck in the middle, the Mustang wasn’t sure which one was worse, and waited with his legs shaking.
“It’s all right,” Mitchell murmured and crept forward. Only now he reached into a pocket and pulled out half of a carrot. He waved it slightly in the air so the Mustang could get the scent, and then set it on top of a post before stepping back.
Hands down, he waited. Waving his head about, the Mustang slowly stepped forward, and reached out for the carrot. After two attempts, he got it and started to eat. He would be distracted enough then, and Mitchell stepped forward just within arm’s reach.
“See?” He offered with a small grin. “That wasn’t so bad. No need to worry, boy.” Once the horse finished eating, Mitchell put out his hands again and the horse didn’t shy away this time. Instead, he sniffed for more snacks. Although there was nothing left, it helped the animal become familiar with his scent.
Within minutes he was gingerly brushing his hands across the Mustang. He heard a wallop of cheers and glanced towards the men from the corner of his eye. There were more of them there, he realized, and frowned at the noise. If they weren’t careful, they’d spook the horse all over again. “Sorry about them,” Mitchell mumbled. “They can be pretty dumb. But you, you’re a beauty. Don’t you forget that.”
The horse was calm now so he climbed back onto the other side of the pen. By that point, several of the men had d
eparted. “There he is,” Mr. Connor chuckled and came over to Mitchell with an outstretched hand. “Boy, was that something! Have you had a lot of experience with horses?”
Nodding, Mitchell returned the firm handshake. “Yes, sir. They deserve proper attention and care, like we all do. If we want to work with them, we need to show them respect and patience.”
“I like that,” Matthew nodded thoughtfully. “I have a feeling you’d get along well with the Jessups. Have you met them?”
Glancing around at the men, Mitchell could feel their eyes on him. He recognized the prick on the back of his neck, and he shifted his shoulders. Keeping his head down, the man fixed his collar higher and told himself it was nothing. He looked to Matthew, wondering if he had felt it, too. “I’m afraid I haven’t had time to meet anyone in town yet.”
That made the man grin. “Perfect. I’m taking them a pie. You’re not busy, are you?”
He shrugged. “You’re the boss, Boss.”
6
Christina
Most of it was white, the scenery outside the window of her seat on the train. White, with glimpses of blue sky. Christina’s eyes were glued to it, squinting out at the world in the early morning and late nights on the train ride west. The journey was tiring, but she could hardly sleep.
She couldn’t tell what it was, for the ache between her shoulder blades was more than just the strain of the stares she could feel on her back. After all, there was too much hair to hide beneath a bonnet, and there was no way to disguise her unusual features. There were whispers from all sides and the conductor wandered by her more often than she thought was appropriate.
It was more than just leaving her late parents behind along with her surviving aunt and uncle. And this went beyond her leaving the only home she had ever known. It was the fact that she was going somewhere new, strange, and unfamiliar. Just the thought of it made her heart hammer and her palms sweat.