She ran into Raleigh’s arms, crying and laughing at the same time. Behind her, she heard Milly say, “I told you so.”
They had a celebratory supper that night, and even little Nicky seemed to catch the excitement, clapping and calling Raleigh “Unca Raleigh.” They all agreed it was probably best to keep the engagement quiet until after the race. As Raleigh put it, referring to Allbright, there was no use poking a sleeping rattler until he was safely in the sack. And Violet wanted the announcement of their engagement to be free of threatening clouds hanging overhead.
Nick informed his sister he would be riding along whenever they went out to run the horses beyond Brookfield land, or any other time she left the ranch. Violet accepted the news with good grace, so grateful that her brother had been astute enough to see that Raleigh was the only man for her.
“Then could we take our first run tomorrow, not on the racecourse, but out to see the ranch you’re going to win? I...I missed seeing it when Raleigh first went to look at it,” she explained to her brother, remembering the awful quarrel she and Raleigh had had after Raleigh had seen her fall. “I’d like to start picturing our future home, you see.”
She caught Raleigh’s eye across the table, and he winked at her before turning to Nick. “It’s too bad your sister lacks confidence in me, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice heavy with irony. “Sweetheart, you have to remember there’ll be a passel of horses in this race, and winning depends quite a bit on pure luck. If we don’t win this ranch, I’ll buy us another one somehow. It’ll just take a mite longer.”
“Come now, Raleigh, never say die,” she chided him.
“Sweetheart, with you believing in me, I’ll win either way,” he promised her.
She turned to Nick. “Brother, will you write Edward tonight? I think he needs fair warning that I expect him and the family at the wedding, if at all possible.”
“I figured you’d want me to, since we’ll be riding right past the post office on the way to that ranch.” He turned to Milly. “Wife, you’ve been very quiet tonight.”
Violet shifted her gaze to her sister-in-law. Was Milly already dreading the logistics of such a visit from her English in-laws?
But Milly’s eyes now danced with merriment. “Me? I was just mentally sketching the wedding dress. Violet, you’ll have to let me know what you want. I want this to be the best I’ve ever sewn.”
* * *
The horses were blowing when they pulled up at last at the turnoff to old Daugherty ranch, having raced there from the eastern edge of Simpson Creek. Once again, Blue had won, but only by a neck, for the pinto mare had gamely kept up with him. Nick, riding his favorite bay, was several lengths behind. Shep had been given quite a lead, since he was supposed to be riding ahead, but they still passed him before reaching the ranch.
Now was the moment Raleigh had been both anticipating and dreading. What would Violet say when she saw the run-down little house with its weed-overgrown garden and shot-out window glass? Yes, the ranch was five hundred acres, but she’d have to live in the house, and accept gradual improvements and enlargements to it. Would she be able to see the possibilities of the place, or would her smile be forced, her words carefully chosen and tactful?
“Now, Vi,” he began when they rode up the rise below which the house was situated. He’d started using the nickname which heretofore only Nick had used, and she loved it when he did. “I want you to remember that the house needs some fixing before we could move into it. I need to replace the windows. I’m betting the roof leaks, and we’ll have to add on to it, of course. It might even be best to tear the whole house down and start over.”
“I understand,” she said, looking at him steadfastly. “Don’t worry, Raleigh.”
Nick had gone on ahead to scout the area for any possible danger, but now he and Shep hung back tactfully to let the couple forge on ahead.
When Violet reached the little house nestled against a grove of pecan trees and live oaks, she clapped her hands with delight. “Raleigh, what a darling little house! It reminds me of the land agent’s cottage at home, though that one was straw-thatched and the trees were fruit trees. We used to go there to play in the orchard whenever we could get away from the schoolroom, and the land agent’s wife would make us apple tarts....”
They dismounted and went into the house. Violet peered around her, looking into every nook and cranny. “It’ll be small and cozy once it’s fixed, Raleigh—a good thing, since I’m not used to housekeeping and need to accustom myself to my wifely duties little by little, don’t you think? I think we should add on a wing on the south side for the babies that will come, don’t you? And we could add on more rooms on the opposite side for guests. And wouldn’t a porch be nice on the western side, with a wooden swing?”
The babies that will come. How naturally and easily she spoke of it. Raleigh swallowed hard, imagining a son with his dark hair, a daughter as golden-haired as her mother.
“And where is the barn, and the bunkhouse?”
“On the other side of the creek beyond those trees. A tributary of the San Saba River ran through the property.”
She clasped her hands together. “Are there fish in it? Will you teach me to fish?”
He loved her enthusiasm. “You can count on it, sweetheart.”
The four of them ate sandwiches from their saddlebags in the shade of the trees and drank cold water Raleigh fetched from the creek. While Nick had been posting letters to England, Violet had purchased a newspaper from the Simpson Creek Chronicle office, and while they ate, she perused an article about the upcoming race.
“This says there are thirty entrants expected from San Saba and neighboring counties and as far away as Victoria,” she said. “The hotel’s planning to erect a large tent behind the hotel itself with cots in it for whomever they can’t accommodate in the hotel or the boardinghouse.”
“Yes, I noticed some new faces in town as we were passing through,” Nick said. “Sheriff Bishop will have his hands full, I imagine.”
Thirty entrants, all out to win this ranch, Raleigh mused. Oh, Lord, please, if it’s Your will, let me win. Not for my sake, but because I don’t want to disappoint this lovely woman who believes in me.
As they prepared to ride back, Raleigh pointed to the English saddle Lady wore. “I hope you don’t think I’m going to use that little postage stamp of a saddle on race day.”
“Oh? Why wouldn’t you want to give yourself every advantage?” she argued, looking exasperated. “It’s so much lighter than that stock saddle. Surely it would make it easier for Lady to run, carrying that much less weight.”
He eyed it uncertainly as they stood by their mounts. He’d feel foolish in that flat saddle, he thought. He was so used to the big horn and high cantle of the Western one. When he was in the saddle all day, it seemed like an extension of himself.
“Why not ride Lady back to the ranch, so you can try it out?” she challenged. “I’ve been aching for a chance to ride your roan. By the way, we’ve never discussed it—which horses are you planning to ride for the first and second legs of the race?”
They discussed the pros and cons of the choice all the way back to Simpson Creek.
Drew Allbright was just emerging from the bank as they approached it. He tipped his hat to Violet, who studiously ignored him.
“Been out to see my new property, Masterson?” he inquired with a smirk. “Or at least it will be, soon.”
“Nope.” It wasn’t a lie, of course, since Raleigh didn’t intend to let the other man win it. “Have you shown it to your twin yet?” He could hardly smother a grin when he saw the other man’s smile lose a bit of its sureness.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Masterson,” Allbright said, his voice as smooth as before, but Raleigh thought he’d gone a mite green.
* * *
&nb
sp; The next week and a half was spent in daily gallops over the course between the eastern edge of town and Five Mile Hill. Sometimes they encountered other entrants, sometimes not; once Allbright himself galloped smugly past as they cooled down their mounts. Raleigh was glad to have Nick and Quint nearby when that happened.
They trained in the morning while it was relatively cool, then ate the midday meal at the Brookfield ranch. Then Raleigh rode home on another horse in his string to complete his chores at Colliers’ Roost, leaving Blue to Violet’s care. He usually managed an evening visit with Violet, too.
Jack Collier was being more than accommodating to allow him to be absent so much from Colliers’ Roost, and Raleigh made it a point to seek him out that first evening to thank him.
“It’s my pleasure, Raleigh,” Collier assured him. “You’ve always had my back—now’s the time for me to return the favor. You know Caroline and I will be pulling for you, even though it’ll mean we lose the best foreman I’ve ever known and I’ll have to whip Quint into shape,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
“You know there’s no guarantee I’ll win, don’t you?” Raleigh asked. “Please don’t give my job away just yet.”
Collier clapped him on the back. “You’ll win, if the determined look in your lady’s eye is anything to go by. But if it doesn’t happen, I wouldn’t be averse to you erecting a little house on the northern edge of the property for you and Violet till you’re able to buy property. Your bride’s got to have her own place one way or another.”
His boss’s encouragement meant more than Raleigh could express, for his throat had grown suddenly thick. Wordlessly he stuck out his hand and the other man shook it.
Raleigh had elected to use Blue for the first half of the race, then Lady. He’d decided to accede to Violet’s suggestion and use the English saddle on Lady. In a race, he wouldn’t need the big horn of the stock saddle to dally a rope from, and since it was lighter, it might make it easier for the mare to put on that last, needed burst of speed at the end.
On race day, they’d decided Violet, Nick and Jack Collier would wait with Lady at the halfway point, with Violet riding her in slow, wide circles to keep the mare relaxed and limber. When Raleigh got there, he’d jump off Blue, onto Lady and take off. Violet and Nick would walk the gelding till he was cool before allowing him to drink, then Jack would take Blue back to the ranch. She and Nick would ride on to the finish line to learn who had won.
Violet wished she could see the finish, of course, but she felt it was more important to make Raleigh’s transfer from one mount to the other as quick and smooth as possible.
On Sunday they rested the horses and went to church. This would be the last Sabbath before the race next Saturday. They felt strengthened by singing the hymns and the presence of other believers around them, though there were others among them who had entered the race also.
Apparently the race was on Reverend Gil’s mind, too, for he mentioned it as soon as he stepped in front of them. “I’ll be praying for the safety of all those participating in the race next Saturday, both the riders and the horses. And I did some searching of the scriptures for an appropriate verse about horses,” he said, laying a hand on his well-worn Bible on the lectern. “But I mostly found verses about Assyrians and Egyptians pursuing God’s people in chariots and so forth. Then I thought of the book of Hebrews, in which the Lord tells us to ‘lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and run with patience the race which is set before us.’ All of us have a race to run, don’t we, whether we’re participating in this race or not? But the Lord wants us to lay up treasures in heaven rather than depending on earthly riches, such as the prize of the race, the ranch southeast of town. Your Heavenly Father knows the things you need, and He wants you to have good things, but He doesn’t want you to depend on them, or place them above Him.”
Raleigh felt a stab of guilt, and looked over at Violet, only to find her gaze already on him. He reached out and squeezed her hand gently, somehow knowing she was praying a similar prayer to his: Lord, help me to keep it all in balance, and always keep You first in my heart. If I don’t win the race, it will be because You have something better in mind for me.
When the service was over, it was hard not to share the news of their engagement, but it was obvious to everyone who had eyes at church that day the two of them were courting.
Milly hadn’t tipped their hand by buying cloth and trim at the mercantile yet, but at home in Milly’s sewing room, the wedding dress was taking shape, on paper, anyway.
* * *
Meanwhile, at the Allbright ranch, other plans were taking shape, plans to ensure that Raleigh Masterson never finished the race.
Chapter Nineteen
Blue and Lady had been put away in the barn after the final training gallop. Supper was over, but Raleigh and Violet lingered in the barn, watching the horses upon which their hopes and dreams would ride. If the roan stallion and pinto mare sensed the couple’s excitement about the race tomorrow morning, they gave no sign, placidly pulling at the hay Raleigh had pitchforked into their stalls.
“Elijah and Isaiah are going to stand watch in the barn tonight,” Raleigh told her, speaking of two of the four brothers who had signed on as ranch hands after becoming freedmen in the months after the Civil War had ended.
“Oh, Raleigh, do you really think Allbright would try to do anything to hurt Blue or Lady?” She stared at Lady, imagining one of Allbright’s henchmen stealing into the barn with a knife...or poison....
Raleigh sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I doubt it, but there’s no use taking the chance.” Privately, he thought it was far more likely Allbright would pull something during the race itself, perhaps with the aid of his twin. He’d already shared their suspicion that Allbright had a twin with Sheriff Bishop, of course, and his concern that Allbright wouldn’t scruple to sabotage him or other riders during the race. Bishop had conferred with Phineas Daley, the race entrepreneur, who had arranged for observers to be posted at intervals along the racecourse. Raleigh didn’t want to worry Violet, though, so he didn’t say more.
“The race is to start at ten tomorrow morning, isn’t it?” Violet asked.
Raleigh nodded. “All entrants are required to sign in no later than nine-thirty,” he told her, “with the second-leg mounts ready at the place where we change horses.”
“We’ll have to set out early, then,” Violet mused, “what with all the people coming from miles around to watch along the way. The road is sure to be clogged with wagons and buggies vying for the best place to watch.”
“It’s good I could bunk with the hands here,” he said, “and not have to ride over in the morning. I doubt I’ll sleep a wink, though, no matter where I lay my head tonight.”
Violet laid her hands on his arms. “You’re going to win, Raleigh,” she told him, her eyes shining up at him. “By the end of tomorrow, you’ll have won the ranch, and we can begin to live happily ever after.”
“Thank you for believing in me, Violet, whatever happens,” he said, and lowered his head to kiss her.
He’d been standing right in front of the stall door, and a moment later, he felt an insistent nudge from Blue behind him. They broke apart, laughing at the horse’s interference.
“I believe he feels we need to keep our minds on the coming race,” Violet remarked. Arm in arm, they strolled to the barn’s entrance, where the fading light heralded the coming night.
Raleigh stopped stock-still, staring at the ominous clouds rising in the sky to the north.
“I don’t like the look of those thunderheads,” Raleigh muttered. “Tarnation. It’s been dry as the heart of a haystack all summer long, and now it’s going to storm. Of all the luck.”
“We’re going to make our own luck, with God’s help,” Violet told him staunchly. “We’ll just ha
ve to pray the horses will be good mudders, if need be.”
* * *
Violet was jolted out of sleep by a crack of lightning that sounded as close as the next room. Dear Lord, has the barn been hit? She threw her shawl on and ran to the kitchen, hearing a wailing Nicky being soothed by his mother. She hoped the rain pounding on the tin roof of the house would suffice to douse any flames that might have been kindled.
Her brother was already in the kitchen, lighting a lantern.
“Nick, the horses—”
“I looked out, and didn’t see anything amiss, but I’m going out to the barn to check,” he told her, grabbing his slicker from the hook by the door.
She held the door open for him and watched him splash across the yard until the sheet of rain hid him from her sight.
He was back within moments, his hair dripping water. “It didn’t hit the barn,” he reported cheerfully as water puddled around him, “but the horses are restive, naturally. Raleigh was there, too, and says his hair will probably turn white overnight from the scare. In the morning we’ll probably find the lightning’s struck one of the trees, but I’m not about to get any wetter than I already did finding out tonight. Go back to sleep, if you can. Dawn will be here before you know it.”
Violet tried to surrender to slumber once again and return to the dream she’d been in the middle of, one in which Mayor Gilmore was presenting Raleigh with an ornate, symbolic gold key to the ranch while Blue and Lady, who had mysteriously grown wings like the mythical Pegasus, pawed the ground. She tossed and turned while the drumming of the rain overhead gradually diminished. It seemed to be moving off to the east.
The course ran eastward. How might that affect the race?
Eventually, she fell back into a fitful sleep, only to dream of a Raleigh with hair as white as a boll of cotton, racing against two black horses whose manes and tails were streaked with fire.
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