by Sarah Thorn
This is it, she reminded herself. This is my new start.
From here on out, Cora imagined life going by without a hitch. Well, perhaps there was one small fly in that ointment. There were, after all, a few...liberties...Cora had taken to grab the opportunity before it escaped.
The end justifies the means, she told herself.
Besides, in her eyes, Cora Sutton deserved just as much a happy ending as Mistress Cora LeBlanc, the wealthy and debonair young aristocrat aboard the Lil’ Miss, on her way to meet the man she’ll marry.
Chapter 2
“Expecting a shipment this afternoon, Mr. Dansby?”
The mustached outpost manager tipped his hat toward the tall and dark Joshua Dansby. Mr. Dansby tipped his hat toward the man, his other hand tucked neatly into his suited pocket.
“Nothing big, Mr. Stanfield. Waiting for a person, actually. Not a shipment.”
Mr. Stanfield raised an eyebrow, but kept his words to himself. No sense in poking into the affairs of a man as private as Joshua Dansby, or at least as private a man could be in his position. Mr. Stanfield looked at the stopwatch in his hand, and dropped it into his front vest pocket, and made his way into the station house.
Joshua Dansby leaned toward the rail, the balls of his feet bouncing on the wooden boardwalk of the outpost. It was a rather overcast day, but generally clear sights as far as one could make out. He kept looking impatiently toward the sky, as if somehow he could discern from the clouds or the breeze the distance of the oncoming train, or hear faintly the loud whistle of the Lil’ Miss making her way into the outpost. No such luck.
Mr. Dansby stopped his movements and straightened his suit coat. Moving so much would make him seem nervous, and in fact it served to actually make him nervous, if not for just a moment.
There’s nothing to be nervous about, he reminded himself.
It was unconventional for the both of them. He never really anticipated being one of those type of men who would place an ad out East to find a wife. But there were extraneous circumstances out of his control, and if he was going to take matters back into his own hands…
He cleared his throat and walked toward the station house. He removed his hat, the coolness from being under the awning shadowing his dark brown hair.
“Mr. Stanfield, correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t the Lil’ Miss supposed to have come in over an hour ago?”
Mr. Stanfield stood upright and checked at his pocket watch, then at a chart along the wooden panel wall of the station house.
“That’s correct, Mr. Dansby. It is quite odd that she’s not as on time as she usually is...but perhaps the weather hit them first and has slowed them down.”
“Weather,” Joshua Dansby echoed.
“Yes, sir.”
Joshua Dansby sighed and fixed his hat once again atop his head.
“Is there something I can do for you?”
Mr. Dansby draped off his suit coat and handed it through the station house window toward a surprised Mr. Stanfield.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Dansby, I don’t know what you mean--”
“Just hold on to it for a while,” Joshua made haste down the outpost steps, calling out with a waved hand. “I’ll be back in a bit. Get ahold of the Sheriff.” And to himself, he said in a low, hushed tone, “I’ve got a bad feeling.”
A stunned Mr. Stanfield merely stuttered a “Y-y-yes, sir.” before Joshua Dansby had fled from the site.
He approached the buggy he arrived in, with his horse, Kan, enjoying the overgrown yellow-green grasses nearby. Joshua untied the reins and slung himself atop his horse.
Leaving the buggy behind, the broad shouldered man took off into the distance. The clouds seemed to be gathering faster, and darker, and Joshua Dansby continued headlong beside the tracks, Eastward.
This is impossible, Cora thought to herself as she ducked breathlessly into her coach cabin.
A scream and some shouts filled the passenger car in front of her. There weren’t many in her own car, but she could hear murmurs and worried rustling in the cabins beside her. They heard it too.
She had read of stories of bandits and seen news clippings of railway robbers, but nowhere had she accounted for the possibility of it ever really happening. And especially not to her.
The Lil’ Miss had come to a complete standstill about three and a half miles out from the post. A pretty daring proximity to town for a band of robbers in the Western territory.
There were more shouts and rustling coming from the cabin before her. Probably looting the passengers. If they were like any of the smart bands of thieves she read about in books, no doubt some were going through the cargo hold at the tail-end of the train, mounting what they could onto their getaway buggies. The others were slowly making their way through the cabins, scaring the passengers into giving up their on-hand possessions.
Cora smirked. Good thing I’ve got nothing worth stealing.
It wasn’t the best thing to necessarily be proud of.
The footsteps and sounds came closer. Cora had to think fast.
She quickly checked that her boots were laced tightly, and with an air of rather unlady-like behavior, brought her dress into a knotted tie at her waist.
I can’t very well make a getaway with this cumbersome number, she smiled to herself. She had to admit. The thrill of the adventure was quite a rush.
Much better than sewing hat boxes, she thought to herself.
Baring open the cabin window, Cora peeked out, and up toward the roof.
Looks like rain.
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 h
er 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 help
ed 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…