“How long have you been doing this?”
He shrugged, spotting the first snare. Empty. “Since I was old enough to follow Jim around.”
“Jim? Is that your brother?”
Mic smiled. “Jim was my father’s friend. When my papa died, he came to help my mother. He helped raise me. He died shortly after Mama.”
“I’m sorry to hear your parents and Jim have passed on.” She hesitated, brushing aside one of the low branches so it wouldn’t touch her hair. “Is that when you lost money and need to make more?”
He frowned. She was such an inquisitive woman, always fishing for more information, but she didn’t need to know why he became an outlaw. “They’ve been dead a long time. And raising five kids wasn’t easy. But we survived just fine with what we had.”
“Five kids?”
The second snare was also empty so he moved on. “Wade was such a serious kid. Abby was a hellion. Caleb was a terror. And Noah…well Noah has never changed. He relates better to animals then people.” He lifted a branch out of her way. “You mentioned a sister. Do you have any more siblings?”
“One. A half-brother. An older one. His parents were diligent in teaching him responsibility, but he didn’t apply what he learned.” She lifted her skirt so she could walk over a fallen tree branch and added, “I’m not sure what made him the way he is, but some of the things Wade said…” She shrugged. “I can’t help but think I’ve come full circle. You asked why I came as a mail-order bride. It was to start over, to be the person I always wanted to be. But now I find I’m where I was before. Trapped, lonely, unsure of what to do. Nothing’s changed. And it makes me wonder if I should have stayed, especially since now I’m wanted for a crime I didn’t commit. Maybe no matter how far I try to go, there are some things I can’t escape. ”
Mic didn’t know what to say. Actually he had a lot to say, but none of it would help her. Instead he squeezed her hand briefly. “Some things are escapable, Uzizitka. Others are meant to be. Maybe you were meant to be here.”
She wiped a tear from her eye and laughed. “I don’t know what good I can do here. Nothing I brought with me will do any good here. Well, I can help Noah learn to read and do arithmetic, but will that help him? How does doing that help with his animals?”
“Jim once told me that the ways of the Great Spirit was mysterious and His plans for us could only be seen in its entirety afterward, that seeking reason in the mystery could make you crazy. You don’t know what God has planned for you. You don’t know what impact your presence might have.” He stopped on the path, seeing signs of disturbance to the snare. “Maybe you are just meant to live the life you wanted, whatever that life might be.”
“I’d feel better if I knew what was going to happen. Then I could be prepared.” She followed his gaze. “What is it?”
“Snare’s been tripped. Hold the horse?”
She accepted the reins. “What trips a snare?”
“Various animals.” He walked through the brush to the snare about ten feet away. “Looks like we have a wild turkey.” He crouched down, resetting the snare and carrying the dead bird toward her. “Sunday dinner?”
She took a step back then chuckled. “It’s going to take me a while to get used to that.”
He grinned and placed the dead bird into a sack. “Are you planning to make it a habit of wandering the woods in search of food?”
“I hope not. A person could get lost easily among all these trees. I hope you don’t forget to take me back with you,” she replied, offering a small smile as she returned his joke with one of her own.
Securing the bag, he recaptured Lillian’s hand again. “Who would wash the dishes if I didn’t bring you home?”
She laughed. “Well, at least there’s a reason to make sure I don’t get left behind. And I could probably master washing dishes in no time at all.”
They headed down the path. “Why do you assume that we need money, Uzizitka?” The question had bugged him since she’d asked the question.
Her fingers wound around the reins and she shrugged. “Why else would someone post a ransom from someone else?”
“I can think of several reasons. And the answer is no. I don’t need money, especially Charles’ money. Wait here.” He stepped off the track, moving about ten feet away to check the snare. A predator had gnawed on the carcass. Taking it apart, he walked another ten feet and set another snare. “We’re almost at the lake.”
She looked as if she was ready to say something but closed her mouth, choosing instead to watch on in silence while he worked. When he was done, she asked, “So you don’t need money. None at all?”
“I’ve never needed much, Lillian, and the land provides most of what I do need. The fur from trapping and selling cattle gives me enough for what little I do buy in town.” He joined her on the path and they started walking again. “Jim taught me to survive off the land and I’ve had to do it many times over the years.” The path opened up affording them a view of the mountain lake.
It didn’t matter how many times he’d seen this view of the blue-green lake glistening in the sunlight with the sweeping tree-covered slope of the mountains all around, creating a bowl for the runoff from the snow. His little garden sat at the edge of the clearing far enough from the tree line and the water to afford it plenty of sunlight without drowning in the water or stunting the growth of the plants.
“Why is it the rich never seem to have enough gold?” he asked her. “What makes it so valuable? And why are so many of them so sad when they have it?”
“Money isn’t the problem,” Lillian murmured. “Some people can take money and bless a lot of people with it. The problem is in the heart of man. It’s what he chooses to do with it. For some men, no matter how much they get, they want more. Those are the ones you have to watch out for. ”
“I’ve seen what it does to people and I wouldn’t want the headache.”
Chapter Nine
Lillian thought over Mic’s words. She didn’t entirely understand his distaste for money or why he seemed to think people couldn’t have it without becoming corrupt. Her parents’ wealth hadn’t corrupted them. Yes, it had corrupted her brother. Albert was so heavily in debt that he had promised Robert marriage to her as a way to pay it off, and the only reason Robert agreed to it was because she’d be rich when her inheritance came in. Given the fact that Robert was worse than Albert, she couldn’t let him get his hands on her money. Who knew what damage he’d do?
But she didn’t dare tell Mic any of this because then he’d know she had the money with her, and if he knew, would he think she couldn’t be trusted? He was still holding her hand, something that was both comforting and thrilling at the same time. And they were having a good conversation. After everything that happened since she’d left Virginia, it was nice to have this moment when she could finally be at peace, a moment where she could be with someone who was choosing to be nice to her because he wanted to be, not because of her family’s name.
Mic led her toward the garden which was enclosed in a fenced area between the trees and a lake. He released her hand and tied the horse’s reins to the post.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked.
Glancing at her as he set out the picnic blanket, he said, “I’d appreciate it if you’d get some water from the lake and water the plants.”
She nodded. “I’d be happy to.”
He smiled as he placed the saddle on the ground. “The pail is over there.”
She followed his gaze and headed for the fence post. The walk through the clearing was a pleasant one. She never thought she’d take a stroll in tall grass among red, purple, white and yellow flowers that swayed in the breeze. With the sun warming things up, she couldn’t think of a better place to enjoy the day. And out here—far from the rest of the world—it was easy to pretend that there was nothing to worry about.
Her fingers brushed one of the red flowers so she knelt to examine it. It reminded her
of her hair. Her hair wasn’t as bright as it, but she thought it was lovely in the midst of the others. Red was a very pleasing color in this setting. Too bad it wasn’t when it came to hair, though Mic didn’t seem to mind it.
She glanced at him. He was probably being nice because he felt bad for kidnapping her. Letting her fingers brush the flower, she continued on to the lake and filled the pail. She cupped her hand and dipped it into the water. When she drank enough to quench her thirst, she picked up the pail and walked back to the garden which Mic was tending.
He looked up and smiled as she approached. “Just pour a little water on each plant. It doesn’t look like much now, but in a month or so we’ll have quite the garden.”
She examined the rows of plants which were just starting to grow out of the ground. She went to the first row and poured a small amount of water on the plant before moving to the next one and pouring more water. “What plants are you growing?”
As he moved dirt around with the hoe, he glanced over his shoulder. “You’re at the potatoes. Over there,” he gestured to the next row, “are carrots. I also have cabbage, beets, radishes, onions, garlic, and turnips.”
She blinked in surprise. “That’s a nice variety of vegetables you have growing here.”
“Eating one of any food gets boring. Got to keep life interesting.”
Noting the twinkle in his eye before he turned back to the row he was working on, a smile tugged at her lips. It seemed to her that he had a good sense of humor. From time to time, he’d let little jokes slip in, but it’d been hard to fully appreciate them until now. She finished pouring water on the plants in one row and moved to the next one.
As she glanced in his direction, she couldn’t help but be intrigued by his diligence. He struck her as the type of person who invested everything he had into something he believed in. There were no half-hearted attempts on his part. She wondered what had motivated him to kidnap her. What could Charles have that was so important?
She knew better than to ask. He’d expertly managed to avoid her questions in the past. All she knew was that it wasn’t money. That didn’t tell her much, really. She didn’t know what was worth kidnapping someone, though. Cattle? Maybe land? She’d heard the benefits of living out West were in the land and what animals a man owned. But that didn’t make sense if he was happy with what he had. Then maybe he was hoping to acquire land for someone else. Maybe one of the other bandits?
She sighed and turned to the next row of plants to water. She didn’t want to think about it. For now, it was enough to be here and enjoy some peace for a change. They passed by each other, and she glanced down and saw unfamiliar shoes. “What kind of,” she motioned to them, “shoes are those?”
He paused and followed her gaze. “Moccasins.” Mic looked up at her. “More comfortable than boots. They don’t squeeze the feet.”
“I’ve never seen shoes like that. Where did you get them from?”
He laughed. “Jim taught me to make them. Never seen a place that sells them. Not considered civilized.”
“You made them yourself?” she asked, impressed that he could accomplish such a feat. “Was it difficult?”
“It can take a while. Would you like to make a pair?”
She studied the moccasins and wondered if she could actually make something that complicated. This was a lot different from embroidery. “I don’t know. I’ve never made shoes before.” Even as she said it, she became aware that the heel of her right foot was feeling a little sore. “Do you have a pair that I can wear?”
“Noah might have an old pair.” He wiped his brow. “Why don’t you get lunch ready and I’ll join you in a minute?”
“Alright, but I need to finish watering the rest of the plants first.”
Before he could say anything, she continued her work. Maybe she should have agreed to make her own moccasins. She shouldn’t let fear of failure stop her from trying it. She needed to do more than water plants and wash dishes if she was going to fit in with this new life. If it wasn’t so terribly different from her old one, then it wouldn’t seem so daunting.
People out here didn’t live at all like the people back East did. Here, they made their own shoes and probably their own clothes. They didn’t go to the grocer and buy food. They went out and grew their own. They got their water from a stream. There were so many things they did out here that she didn’t know how to do.
As she neared the last row, she scanned the area. If she was going to make herself useful, she needed to start doing things that people around here did. Gripping the pail in her arms, she walked over to Mic and took a deep breath. “I’d like to learn to make moccasins if you’re still willing to teach me.”
He glanced up from the dirt. “We’ll start after dinner tonight.” He tugged a lock of her hair. “Just remember it’s a pair of shoes, not the gallows.”
She chuckled, already feeling more at ease about the whole thing. “Does my apprehension show that much?”
He gave her a quick, one-armed hug. “Enough.”
Her face grew warm and though she told herself it was from being out in the sun without a hat, deep down she knew there was more to it than that. She brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear and hoped she didn’t appear as nervous as she felt. He seemed oddly perceptive about her, picking up on her feelings even though she tried so hard to hide them. “Well, I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all anyone can ask.” He glanced around the garden. “I think we’re done for today.” He took her hand and led her to the picnic blanket. “It’s not much, but it should hold us until dinner.”
“If it’s as good as breakfast, I’ll enjoy it,” she replied as she sat on the blanket and helped him set out the food. In a low, shy voice, she added, “I didn’t say it before, but I really did enjoy your eggs, biscuits, and bacon. And I’m not just saying that so you don’t cook up another dove.”
“I think you would have liked it if you’d tried it.”
“I don’t think I’m that adventurous yet.” She picked out a piece of jerky from the tin and offered a wry grin. “I’ll be doing good to try this.” She broke off a piece of the tough meat and, hoping to appear braver than she felt, placed it in her mouth. She chewed it, noticing that Mic was watching her with an amused smile. She didn’t dare say anything while she was eating, so she waited until she swallowed it to ask, “Is something funny?”
“You look like I’m trying to poison you.”
She gasped. “No, I don’t.”
He laughed. “Yes, you do. Think of it as a really tough steak.”
She burst out laughing and admitted, “I concede. It’s not as bad as I feared.” She took another bite of it. “I’ll even go so far as to say it tastes good. I wouldn’t say ‘steak’ good but it’s good.”
Mic reached into the tin and pulled out what looked to be another piece of jerky, but it looked different than the others. “Try the Wasna. I think you’ll like it. ”
She accepted it from him and couldn’t resist the teasing tone in her voice. “Do I dare ask what ‘Wasna’ means?”
“Couldn’t tell you, but as a child I preferred Wasna to jerky.”
Having survived the jerky, she felt more confident about the Wasna and bit into it. She noted a flavor in it that reminded her of berries and decided she liked it better too. Back East, she’d had berries often with her breakfast, and it made her think of her parents when they were still alive since her mother loved berries. “I like it.” She waited until she finished it before asking, “So, you know that I’m not familiar at all with being out here. I was wondering, what do women do?”
Frowning, Mic chewed his own jerky thoughtfully. “Can’t say. Mama always stayed close to home. Cookin’, cleanin’, and washin’ clothes. Abby was the complete opposite. She wanted to work the ranch and hunt. There were never two women more different than those two. ”
She picked up a biscuit and a piece of cheese, not bothering to hide her surprise. “Women out here hu
nt? That isn’t something heard of where I came from. It would have been discouraged.”
“Not all women do it out here, and Abby is a creature unto her own. She acts more like a boy than a girl. Women here run ranches much like women run their households. ”
“Where are the men?”
“Working. The life of a rancher is far from a life of ease. There is the livestock to tend to, the fields to irrigate and hay, cattle rustlers to discourage, predators to kill. If you’re neighborly enough, you might help a man with his place and in return he’ll help you with yours.” He pulled a biscuit from the tin. “Spent nearly two months one year going from ranch to ranch, helping with the haying.”
She slowly swallowed the cheese in her mouth. Cattle rustlers? Predators to kill? She knew there were animals involved, but the other things he mentioned made her stomach twist into a knot. “Wh-what do you mean by cattle rustlers and predators? Are these bears or other large animals that harm the livestock?”
“Bears and wolves will kill cattle. Usually ones in labor.”
“Ones in labor?”
“A cow in labor is vulnerable. Come on. It’s time to go. ”
“But that’s terrible,” she said as she helped him collect his things. “I mean, a cow in labor is about to have a baby.”
“It’s the way of nature, Uzizitka. It can be cruel and it can be kind. It doesn’t hide its intentions.”
“That’s sad.”
Even with animals, the world could be a cruel and unforgiving place. So much of what happened to her in the past six months had changed her perspective on life. She never imagined how blessed she’d been to have parents who loved her so well and protected her from the harsher realities of life.
In a somber mood, she gathered the tin and blanket while he saddled the horse and got everything else ready for their journey back to his cabin. When they were on their way, he held her hand again, something she noted with pleasure. The day had definitely been a pleasant one, one of the best she’d had in a long time. And no matter where the future led her, at least she had this time to remember.
The Stagecoach Bride Page 8