by Kit Morgan
“So he ropes it,” Calvin explained, “and the thing takes off straight for the cliffs. It got going so fast, it almost started dragging poor Arlan behind it.”
“Only when it reached the cliff, it stopped, and Arlan didn’t,” Daniel finished.
Calvin made a whistling sound as his hand raised then fell onto the table with a bang.
Samijo winced and looked at Arlan, who sat red-faced. “What happened to the calf … er, I mean the cow?”
“It followed Arlan’s horse home with the rest of the strays,” said Ma. “That’s how we knew something was wrong. When we found poor Arlan, he was parched, banged up, but fixable.”
“We set him to rights,” added Daniel.
Arlan was beet red at this point, and it was all Samijo could do not to burst into a fit of giggles. She was about to comment when …
Knock, knock, knock ...
The Weavers froze a scant second before Arlan got up from the table, went to a corner of the kitchen, and pulled out a shotgun. He cocked it and nodded to his brothers. Samijo watched in fascination as they sprang into action, each rushing to a different part of the house and procuring a weapon. She swallowed hard and followed Ma to the front door. What was going on? Is this how the Weavers always reacted to a simple knock on the door?
Arlan stepped to the door, as Benjamin peeked through the lace curtains at the front porch. He gave his big brother a curt nod, and Arlan opened it. His mouth dropped open.
“Hello there,” a sweet voice said. “Surprise, surprise.”
Arlan sighed, looked to his brothers, and opened the door wide. Standing on the other side, was Olivia Bridger.
Samijo fought the urge to pluck a gun from one of Arlan’s brothers and take aim. Not that it would do any good. Each of them lowered their weapon and gawked at the girl. Little did they know Olivia Bridger’s presence could only mean one thing; trouble. She was not the type of woman her three new brothers-in-law needed to be subjected to.
Samijo hoped she could be civil and keep her jealousy under control, or she might be tempted to toss Olivia Bridger down the well.
* * *
“Well, well, Mr. Weaver. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Olivia crooned.
“What are you doing here?” Arlan asked as he took in her fancy dress and bonnet.
“Well, I just happened to be in the area and …”
“Happened to be in the area?” Arlan echoed, his voice cracking on his last word. “There’s no one around for miles!”
“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” she cooed. “My father is around here somewhere.”
“Your father?”
“And my mother, and my brother too if you must know.”
“Arlan,” his mother began. “Who is this?”
“You must be Mrs. Weaver,” Olivia said sweetly. “I’ve heard all about you from your sister Mrs. Quinn over in Nowhere.”
Ma’s eyes widened before she squinted at the girl to get a better look. “You’re going to ruin that dress out here. Very impractical.”
Olivia glanced at her dark green day dress with its fancy lace trim. “This old thing? Oh, I don’t care what happens to this dress.”
Ma stepped back and sighed. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“No, but I am now.”
Arlan peeked over Olivia’s head to see outside. A one-horse buggy was parked in front of the house. “What do you mean?”
“You know that little old patch of land on the other side of the stream? The one that runs south of your orchards?”
“The land that runs behind Arlan’s cabin?” Calvin chimed in.
Olivia craned her neck to see past Arlan. She took one look at Calvin and her eyes flashed with… something. “Yes.”
Arlan’s face took on a look of panic. “What about it?”
“We bought it. We’re going to be your new neighbors.”
Samijo coughed, and coughed, and coughed some more. It was the only thing she could think of that would hide her groans of dread. Benjamin gave her a few hard pats on the back, and looked at Arlan, who in turn was looking at Olivia like she’d just told him his house burned down. At least he looked as unhappy with the news as Samijo felt.
“What?” Arlan finally blurted. “That land belongs to my Aunt.” He turned to his mother. “Ma? What’s this all about? Aunt Betsy wouldn’t sell her land, would she?”
Ma stepped forward and looked Olivia in the eye. “No, she wouldn’t. What are you talking about? Why are you really here?”
Olivia took on an air of innocence and flashed a smile at Samijo. “I told you, we bought it, and have come to inspect the property.” She glanced around then shivered. “My, one would think since we’re neighbors, you’d invite me in.”
Arlan folded his hands over his chest, and glared down at Olivia. “Are you telling me your pa bought land sight unseen?”
She smiled up at him. “A body can’t be expected to talk in this cold.”
Ma sighed again and shook her head. “Let the girl in, Arlan, and we’ll get this straightened out.”
Arlan stepped aside, and Olive sashayed past him into the front hall. “My, and who do we have here?” she cooed at the twins.
Calvin took a few steps toward her. “I’m Calvin Weaver, ma’am.”
Samijo felt her fists clench. She suddenly felt very protective of her new brothers, and didn’t want any of them to be fooled by the woman. She knew Olivia had an eye for her husband, and that was bad enough. But if she couldn’t have Arlan, she might try for one of the twins, and Samijo knew she wouldn’t be good for either one of them.
“You boys go finish your supper,” Ma told them. “We’ll take care of business here.”
Arlan looked at Samijo. “You too, I’ll be in shortly.”
“But …” she protested.
“Oh run along, our conversation would probably bore you anyway,” Olivia said as if talking to a child.
Samijo’s temper flared, and her back stiffened. “Not at all. As part of the family, I think I would find it very interesting.”
Arlan stared at her a moment, then shook his head. “No. Go into the kitchen, finish your supper.”
Samijo’s mouth started to fall open but she snapped it shut. She then spun on her heel and followed the twins into the kitchen. Once there, she went to her chair and sat down hard.
“Don’t be mad at Arlan,” Benjamin told her.
“I am not a child. I’m his wife, you’d think I could stay in the same room.”
“He sent you in here cause he don’t want you hearing what he has to say to the lady.”
Samijo raised a brow at that.
“Yeah,” added Calvin. “He don’t look it, but he’s mad as a rattler right now.”
“He is?” she asked.
“Oh yeah,” said Benjamin. “That land was supposed to be Arlan’s.”
Samijo threw each of them a quizzical look.
Daniel looked to the dining room, and the hallway beyond. Muffled voices could be heard coming from the parlor. Arlan’s was low, and not very happy. “Why would Aunt Betsy sell her land to city folk?”
Benjamin leaned back in his chair and picked at his mashed potatoes. “Don’t really know. I reckon she decided she didn’t want it anymore.”
“Don’t sound right to me, she promised Arlan could have it,” said Daniel as he stared at his plate. “Nope, don’t sound right at all.”
Samijo slumped in her chair as her gut told her something was very wrong. It was the same feeling she used to get when Uncle Burr was up to no good, which of course meant a timely visit from Mr. Slade.
“She sure is pretty,” Calvin commented.
Samijo sat up straight. “Pretty is one thing, nice is another,” she said.
“You don’t like her,” Daniel stated.
She looked at him. Other than stating the obvious, she couldn’t think of what else to tell them. I’m fiercely jealous of her because I know how interested she is in my husband
? Add to that the fact that yes, Olivia Bridger is pretty, and also older and thus more experienced … Samijo bit her lip and kept her mouth shut. She was judging, and that wasn’t a good thing. But still …
“I’m right,” Daniel said with a triumphant smirk. “You don’t like her.”
Samijo slumped in her chair again and folded her arms across her chest.
Benjamin chuckled. “Don’t worry none, Arlan don’t like them fancy city women. He likes you.”
She blushed, and reached for her fork. “We’d better eat our supper before it gets cold.”
“Ben’s right,” Calvin put in. “Arlan ain’t never liked a girl the way he likes you.”
“Well of course he likes me,” Samijo said. “He married me didn’t he?”
“Ma says you have to like the person you marry, love them, and be in love with them,” Daniel said matter of fact.
“That’s a lot,” Samijo giggled. “Why?”
The three looked at her as if she’d just laid an egg, then glanced at one another. Daniel set down his fork and explained. “Ma says it’s on account if’n ones missing, you still got two in your pocket. And if two out of three are missing sometimes, you at least still have one.”
Samijo laughed at the logic, then thought about it a moment. What he said made sense, and if so, then where was she in her relationship with Arlan? She at least had one out of three, as she knew she liked her new husband and was sure he felt the same about her. But did they love each other yet? That she didn’t know. She’d never been in love, and hadn’t loved anyone in years.
Araln strode into the kitchen, his mother close behind and plopped into his chair. He stared at them, his eyes finally landing on Samijo. “It seems we have ourselves some new neighbors.”
“New neighbors?” Benjamin and Calvin exclaimed at the same time.
Ma’s jaw was tight. “There will be no more talk of it today. Let’s finish our supper. I’ll need to speak with your aunt Betsy before I believe a word of what came out of that woman’s mouth.”
Daniel’s face was white. “Aunt Betsy couldn’t have sold her land,” he said quietly. “She just couldn’t.”
“I know,” said Ma. “But that Bridger woman has a pretty convincing story, however, I still can’t see Betsy doing such a thing.”
“We can go to town in the morning,” Calvin offered.
“No, we’ll wait and go for Easter services like we always do. Besides, your uncle will be coming to pick up the order of Easter hats in a couple of days. I’ll ask him about it then.”
Arlan stared at his untouched plate, his jaw tight. Samijo watched him, and saw the troubled look in his eyes. Sure she was jealous, and hadn’t realized she had a jealous streak until she encountered the woman at the stage stop. But her jealousy paled in comparison to what was obviously a huge family matter, one involving part of the Weaver legacy. She remembered when she was a little girl, and heard her father talk about the value of land. It was one of the few memories she had of what her father’s voice sounded like.
She reached across the table, put her hand over one of her husbands, and looked at him with as much understanding as she could muster. He smiled and patted it. “Don’t worry, she won’t be knocking on our door.”
Samijo smiled in relief, and with the rest of the family, ate her supper.
Nine
Knock, knock, knock ...
Arlan froze. He finished up a few chores with his brothers before walking back to the cabin with Samijo. They held hands the entire time, and he almost stole a kiss, but wanted to make their first kiss special. He knew she’d never been kissed before, he could tell from her actions that morning when he started to lose himself in the sweet scent of her hair, and the way her cheeks grew pink when she looked into his eyes.
Knock, knock, knock ...
“Arlan? You don’t think it’s …”
He closed his eyes in resignation before he turned to the door. “Who else would it be?”
Samijo pursed her lips and shook her head. Neither of them cared for the Bridger woman, but now that it was after dark, the family might need something or have some trouble.
Arlan opened the door. A young man stood there, his eyes wide. “Howdy Mr. Weaver. I’m Jonathan Bridger, uh … we have a problem and wondered if you could help.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Our horses done run off.”
“What? How did that happen?”
“Danged if I know, sir. But they’re gone.”
Arlan thought a moment. “Gone or stolen?”
“Stolen?” The young man repeated, his voice a high chirp.
“There’s been talk of an outlaw in these parts, he could’ve stolen them. What about any other livestock? Do you have oxen pulling your wagon?”
“No sir, my ma and sister have a horse for their buggy, and we have a team of horses for the wagon. My folks and me went fishing down at that stream yonder about a half-mile when my sister came a calling on ya. Must have been then they took em.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions, if that was the case, your sister would have been fit to be tied to get back to your camp and find your horses gone.”
“Not really, she don’t pay much mind to things like missing livestock. She’d a thought we took them with us.”
Arlan fought the urge to roll his eyes. “That wouldn’t surprise me,” he mumbled.
Samijo looked from one to the other. “Let’s hope they wandered off. I don’t like the thought of an outlaw lurking around.”
Arlan put his arm around her. “You don’t have to worry none. My brothers and I can handle any kind of outlaw foolish enough to come here.”
An image of the twins tossing Daniel into the well came to mind, and Samijo smiled as she pictured the same fate awaiting any outlaw unlucky enough to cross paths with the Weavers. She leaned against her husband in response and reveled in the warmth of his body. It was an automatic response to him holding her, yet she felt bold in doing so. She’d never been this close to a man before in her life, and the day wasn’t over yet. She was hoping he’d kiss her, but wasn’t’ sure that was going to happen as he reached for his coat hanging near the door. “Where are you going?” she asked.
“I’m going to help this young man look for his stock.”
“You don’t think they were stolen do you?”
He looked down at her. “I don’t want you to worry,” he said then leaned down and whispered in her ear. “More than likely, that Olivia turned them loose then sent her poor little brother over here to fetch me.”
Samijo’s eyes narrowed at the very idea of Olivia Bridger taking things that far, and her chest tightened.
Arlan caught the flash of anger in her eyes. “Settle down now, Mrs. Weaver. I’ll be home soon.”
She nodded, and watched as he left with Olivia’s younger brother to search for the missing horses.
* * *
Three hours later, Arlan still hadn’t returned, and Samijo was getting sleepy. Unable to stay awake any longer, she decided to put on her nightclothes and go to bed. She was sure Arlan would be back soon, but she couldn’t keep her eyes open.
Sure enough, no sooner had her head hit the pillow, she was fast asleep. When she awoke again, it was dawn. Samijo yawned, and looked to her husband. He wasn’t there. She sat up and looked around. The early morning sun was just coming through the window. “Arlan?” she called.
No answer.
Samijo got up and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and left the bedroom to see if Arlan was in the kitchen. He wasn’t. She looked to see if his coat had been hung up. Nope. She glanced around the cabin. Everything was as it was the night before. “Where are you?” she mumbled to herself. She returned to the bedroom to dress, and once done came back to the kitchen to make a little breakfast. If her husband had been out all night looking for the Bridgers’ horses, then she wanted to have something ready for him when he got home.
Samijo set to work making some fresh
biscuits and was deciding weather or not to make some eggs when the front door flew open.
“I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done,” Olivia cried behind a disgruntled looking Arlan. He didn’t look at Samijo as he hung his coat upon its peg by the door, but he didn’t look at Olivia either. She followed him in, and as soon as he turned around, she flung her arms around him and kissed him.
Samijo gasped and slammed the frying pan she’d been holding down hard on the stove. Olivia jumped at the sound. “What’s the matter,” Olivia cooed as Arlan tried to pry her arms from around his neck. “Drop your pan?”
He finally succeeded and shoved her from him. She looked at him, her face dripping innocence. “I had a lovely time last night, didn’t you?”
Samijo’s eyes bulged as her mouth snapped shut, her jaw tight.
“No, I did not,” Arlan said firmly. “Next time, keep your animals tethered properly.”
Olivia glanced to Samijo who stood still as a statue. “Silly horses got away last night and your darling husband was kind enough to help me find them.”
Samijo sucked air through her nose. “All night?”
“Of course, those horses don’t have a brain in their heads. Why they must have wandered for miles and miles before we finally found them.
“They were less than a half mile away, conveniently caught in a thicket. I wonder how they got that way, Miss Bridger,” Arlan said in an accusing tone.
Olivia put a hand to her chest in shock. “How should I know? They were gone when I got back to camp.”
Samijo narrowed her eyes at her. “If they were less than half mile from your camp, how did it take you all night to find them?”
“Because this one insisted we use her horse and buggy to go looking for them.”
“What?” Samijo said. “Even I know that’s a silly thing to do.” Her head then snapped to Arlan. “And so do you.”
Olivia’s face took on a triumphant look. “Oh your husband is quite accommodating,” she purred as she put an arm around one of Arlan’s.
He rolled his eyes then looked to the ceiling as if sending up a prayer. Samijo thought he ought to be praying, because she felt like clobbering one if not both of them. Sure, Arlan looked annoyed by the woman, but he knew better than to let the silly ninny drag him around all night looking for lost horses. Why hadn’t her brother gone with him instead? Didn’t her father realize how improper it was for his daughter to be riding around with a married man through the fields and woods all night? Arlan certainly did, so the question was; why did he?