Mary

by Peggy McKenzie

  “Does that mean he will buy me more deerskins to wear?” She would be happy to return to the soft comfort they provided.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. At least in the beginning. Um, with everything you are going to have to overcome,” he glanced at her face, “it’s probably best we start you off slow. But, I’m certain Liam’s wife and her sisters, along with Aggie Hanover, will be ready and more than willing to provide you everything you will need to be a fashionable young woman.”

  She rolled her eyes at him for they both knew she would never be considered fashionable, not with the tattoos so prominently displayed on her face, but what else could she do?

  Her escort turned to a second horse standing quietly beside the big black horse she’d seen yesterday and adjusted the saddle cinch. “And who is this, Doctor Howard?” She stepped down off the porch and touched the soft nose of the big bay horse.

  The man turned to her. “Your ride home, Mary. I think the man I bought him from called him Socks because of his four black legs, but then every bay horse has four black legs…anyway, why don’t you call me Doc? It’s what everyone else calls me and I think considering the fact that we will be on the trail together for the next three days, we should probably be on a first name basis, don’t you?” He took a step to stand next to her and she was reminded she and the good doctor were nearly the same height. She caught his scent of pine and lavender and something else she couldn’t quite name when he asked her, “What would you like me to call you?”

  Surprised at his question, she turned her face up to him. “You mean, I have a choice?”

  His amused gaze was open and direct as he looked down at her. “Of course you have a choice. I’ll call you anything you want. Moonfire or Mary? Nosegay or June Bug. You pick.”

  She laughed at the man’s humor and delighted in the way he made her feel. He was giving her a choice? What did she want people to call her? She was used to Moonfire. It was what the Utes had named her and what she had answered to for the last fourteen years. It would feel strange to be called Mary now, but . . . the people in her brother’s town would expect her to be called by her white name. Besides, Moonfire would be a reminder to everyone that she was a ruined woman because of her past. She could choose her name, but she wouldn’t be able to hide her face.

  “You don’t have to decide now, you know. Not if it’s a difficult decision for you.”

  She could see the understanding in his eyes. He knew that to deny her name given to her by the Utes would be considered an insult by her people. But they weren’t her people anymore, were they? “Most of my life, fate has been deciding my future. This is no different. To be called by my Ute name in my brother’s town would be to invite trouble. I’ve had a lifetime of trouble and I want no more. If it will make my brother happier, and my life easier, then you may call me . . .” Did it really matter which name she chose? They would still call her names. “Perhaps you should call me June Bug.”

  Her escort laughed, a quiet chuckle that sent shivers across her skin. “June Bug it is,” he agreed.

  “But I suppose if someone wanted to call me by my birth name, they would call me Mary Margaret O’Brien. I was named after my grandmother—my father’s mother.”

  “Very well, Miss Mary Margaret O’Brien, also known as June Bug, we should get going. We’ve got a few miles to cover before the sun goes down.” Doc took her small satchel of things and tied it to the back of her saddle with the leather straps. Then he looped the horse’s reins around its neck and stood back. “After you.” He didn’t try to help her up on the horse for that would have been an insult to a young and strong Ute woman. She couldn’t have asked for a better escort to guide her from her old life to the new one.

  She stepped her foot into the saddle’s stirrup and swung her leg over the saddle to settle her other foot in. The squeak of the leather underneath her weight reminded her she had a choice. Once she cleared town, she would thank her escort and ride back to the mountains and her people. She would tell him where her village was and he could reclaim the horse he bought. But . . . as much as she wanted to return to the comfort of her adopted family and their way of life, the knowledge that her brother, Liam, was alive and well, could not be denied. She was very anxious to lay eyes on the brother she thought long dead.

  Doc mounted his big black horse and turned to her. “I won’t stop you, you know.”

  “Stop me from?”

  “Riding away. I wouldn’t blame you if you did, but I think if you do, you will always wonder what could have been if you had not been too—”

  “Too frightened to find out?” She sat up straight in the saddle and offered the man a sad smile. “I am many things, Doctor Howard, but a coward I am not. Shall we ride toward this new life you are so keen to show me?” Without another word or a glance at the couple watching from the doorway, she turned her horse to the road and kicked him into a lively lope. She wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring. In the eyes of her peers she was damaged goods, and they would expect her to behave as such. Then, they would be free to criticize her and feel justified in their self-righteous judgments. And they would pity her, but she was as strong as a green willow branch. She would not bend or break under their unfair scrutiny.

  Soon, her escort was riding alongside her, and together they rode out of town up the road that led to the mountains—and her beloved brother, Liam.

  On the morning of the fourth day since they had left The Springs, Doc led Mary across the meadow at the bottom of the rise that led into the town of Creede. He had used their time on the trail to find out as much as he could about Mary’s life since she had been taken, but he sensed there was still so much she kept to herself. He could understand that. Sometimes, hurts were just too deep to share.

  He cut a discreet look to his traveling companion. He watched the proud rise of her chin and her keen eyes scanned the horizons for trouble. She had more wisdom in her little finger than anyone he knew in their whole body. Wisdom that came with trials and tribulations and hardships. Wisdom borne of heartache and suffering. He knew what that felt like.

  “Are we close?” Mary asked keenly scanning the horizon. “We must be. I see a lot of smoke on the horizon.”

  “Yes, we’re close. Just over that rise there. Are you ready to see your brother again?”

  “I am ready,” she admitted. And although she had repeatedly claimed to have no concerns in seeing her brother again, he sensed she was in truth very nervous.

  “Why don’t we stop here and take a break before we push on. Would you mind?” He wanted a chance to prepare Mary for what lay ahead. Without saying a word, Mary guided her horse next to his and followed him to the small grove of willows and aspens near the river’s edge.

  He dismounted, and Mary followed his example when he led his horse to drink from the cold, clear river. Five minutes passed before he ventured to say what he wanted to say. “It’s been a long ride from The Springs, and even longer from your Ute home in the mountains, but just up that rise and over that hill is the town. Creede, Colorado. In all its glory . . . and its dark side too.”

  Mary looked up at him in surprise, but then her expression changed to one of resignation. “I understand what you’re trying not to say.” She reached up and touched the side of her face. “I know people will judge me for who they think I am, but these marks do not measure my value.”

  “You’ll be surrounded by people that love you, but I fear they won’t always be able to—”

  “Keep watch over me?” Mary kicked a wet stone near the river’s edge with her boot’s scuffed toe. “I don’t need someone to watch over me. I am capable of caring for myself.” She cast a hard look in his direction and raised her skirt hem above her boot’s cuff to expose a very long and dangerous looking knife.

  Doc grimaced. He hated to think this beautiful young woman would feel the need to keep such a weapon on her person, but he understood. He took a moment to choose his next words very carefully. “Where d
id that thing come from?”

  “It was in my room when we met at the springs. I shouldn’t have left it in my room, but I was afraid Mrs. Webber would see it and accuse me of trying to murder her. I keep it close in case I need to defend myself.”

  “Mary, I have no doubt you are capable of defending yourself. I’m familiar with the Ute’s customs and they train their wives and daughters to defend themselves while the men are away from the village, but . . .”

  “But, what? Am I not to defend myself from attack?” She frowned at him in confusion.

  “Yes, of course you are expected to defend yourself, but it’s more complicated than that. I’m just thinking a better method would be to call out for the sheriff or your brother, or—”

  “You?” She had turned those clear blue eyes on him.

  A protective feeling welled up inside him and he had to remind himself that this protectiveness he felt for her was because she was his best friend’s sister, and not because of any ill-advised attraction.

  “Yes. Of course. I’m happy to come to your rescue any time you need me.” Grimacing, then offering her a half-hearted smile, he tried again. “Look, what I’m doing a very poor job of saying, is that with your mark and people knowing your history with the Utes, that knife might land you in more trouble rather than keep you out of it.” He rushed his words hoping to convey his meaning before he lost his nerve.

  Mary dropped her gaze to the rushing river and watched it race by for several minutes before she finally spoke. When she did turn, she surprised him with a wide grin.

  Amusement was the last reaction he expected from her, but he had to admit, the transformation of her features was staggering. His breath caught and hung there as if waiting for something more.

  “Doctor Howard. You are quite remarkable, do you know that?” Her grin was becoming contagious.

  “I . . . um, no. Remarkable? What have I missed?” he asked, his eyes never leaving her mouth that was stretched wide into a breathtaking smile.

  “You are trying to convince me that someone would find fault with me for protecting myself. So, I should take no action and instead scream out for help. Even though I am perfectly capable of defending myself. I thought you were going to tell me something serious I should know. Now I see you only want to make me kee-ing-g.”

  Kee-ing-ge. That was the Ute word for laugh. He wished it were true. How could he make Mary realize what she was up against? She was wise in so many ways, but naive to the degree of cruelty people could display to someone like her.

  “Is something wrong, Doctor Howard? You look troubled.”

  He wished he could convey to Mary everything he suspected that could be in her future, but he hoped he was wrong. Why predict doom and gloom to a young woman who had already seen a lifetime full of it. Time would reveal how the world would receive her and this time, he would be there to help her through it.

  “Yes, something is wrong. You were gonna call me Doc, remember?” He offered her a teasing grin. “Doc Howard is too formal, don’t you think? Especially since we . . .”

  “Have spent many moons sleeping under the stars together?” she teased.

  “Yes, since we have spent many moons under the night sky.” He grinned. “You know, there’s an old Ute custom that when a man and a woman shared a blanket under the stars, they were considered married.”

  Mary’s blue eyes rounded in shock. “How did you know about that? That is a very old custom and no longer acknowledged. That was the way of the Original People. How do you know so much about my people?”

  “As I said before, I—”

  “Yes, you’ve said you’ve spent a lot of time around the Utes studying plants and herbs, but I sense there is more. You would not know that sacred ritual from long ago unless you had a closer connection to someone.”

  Doc shook his head in denial. “I help treat the Utes illnesses and injuries. In return, they share things with me I want to know. It’s not a complicated arrangement. We simply trust one another.”

  Mary squinted her eyes at him. He could tell she wasn’t believing his story a hundred percent, but she didn’t have to believe him. His past was something he wasn’t comfortable in sharing with anyone.

  His gaze shot to the young woman who stood next to him and her attention had returned to her horse now grazing on the grass beside the river. He had never met anyone like Mary and he sensed she would understand his own tragic story if he were ever open to sharing it with someone. Perhaps . . . in the future.

  At the very least, he hoped they could be good friends. She would need all the support she could get when she arrived in Creede. And there was no sense putting it off any longer.

  “I decided it would be best if I take you to the Hanovers and get you settled in there before we shock Liam with the news. Aggie and Hiram Hanover are wonderful, generous people. They will welcome you with open arms. Plus, their home will give you and Liam the privacy you need to reconnect. Is that agreeable to you?”

  Mary shrugged. “I trust you to do what you think is best, Doctor—Doc.” Her teasing grin hit him in a place long void of emotions, and it made him uneasy.

  “Well, then what are we waiting for? Your brother is just up that hill. Let’s not keep him waiting any longer. Shall we?” He stood back and waited for her to mount the bay and settle herself in the saddle. He noticed the knife handle sticking out of her boot. He reached up and pulled the hem of her skirt down to cover it. When she looked down at him, he realized he had his hand still on her leg and he quickly removed it. Instead of admonishing him, she reached her hand down and ruffled his hair. It was an odd gesture and he looked up at her in confusion. “Thank you, Doc. I can see you are a good man and I am grateful to you for bringing me here. And regardless of what happens from this day forward, I will always remember the strange doctor who would be Ute.”

  Her words punched him in his chest and hit painfully close to the truth. He stepped back and made light of her comment. “What do you mean, would be Ute? I consider myself an honorary Mountain Ute as I stand before you. After all, I know as much about their language, customs, and herbal medicines as you do.” He didn’t give her a chance to question him. Instead, he mounted his horse and offered Mary a lighthearted smile “Ready? We have an unsuspecting Irishman who has waited long enough for his long-lost sister. I say let’s not keep the man waiting.”

  Behind his forced smile, his heart was burdened with knowledge he dared not share. Not even with the one woman who would understand his lies the most. Afraid more time with Mary would cause a crack in the protective shell he’d worked all his life to build, he realized he needed to put a little more distance between them. The only way to do that was to deliver her to her brother and move on. But that wouldn’t be possible living in the same town.

  Without another word, he turned his horse toward the gentle rise on the other side of the river and kicked the big black gelding into an easy lope. Once he and Mary reached town, he feared their lives would never be the same.

  Chapter 5

  Mary followed Doc into town. She didn’t question him when he left the main street leading into town and took a side street. She knew he must have his reasons and he seemed to walk in two worlds much like a shadow walker, moving between the white world and the Utes without retribution. She had trusted him almost from the very beginning and that was a miracle in itself for she had learned long ago trust was like a two-edged knife. What could easily keep one safe could also do great much harm in the hands of the wrong person. She hoped this kind and gentle man would not prove to be that person.

  She followed him down two more blocks and stopped when he stopped behind a great house. It was here he dismounted and she assumed this was the house that belonged to Aggie and Hiram Hanover. She hoped they were as kind and receptive to her as Doc seemed to think they would be.

  A large, burly man stepped out of the carriage house and greeted Doc. “Good mornin’ to ya, Doc. I hope Jasper behaved himself.” The man’s
large laugh rumbled and Mary was amazed at his size, but she recognized his accent immediately. It sounded like home.

  “Hey, Big Angus. Good morning to you too. Yes, he was the perfect gentleman,” Doc said to the big man who took the reins of their two horses and then the burly man turned his attention to her. “And who’s this bonnie lass? She’s got to be a lassie from me own country with that hair,” Big Angus boomed.

  Doc shot her an amused look. “Yes, I’m certain she’s a fellow countrywoman, Angus. Mary, this is Angus. Angus, meet my new friend, Mary.”

  She noticed Doc didn’t mention her last name. She understood. He didn’t want word getting out about her arrival before he had time to forewarn the Hanovers and her brother. She gave Doc a look of understanding and then gave the big man and nod of greeting. “Hello, Angus.”

  “Well, hello there, Mary. It’s so nice ta be make’n your acquaintance.” Big Angus’ loud voice boomed across the carriage yard.

  “It’s nice to meet you too,” she replied.

  “Angus, could you take the bay here and brush him down too. I’ll be making arrangements to stable him at the livery, but right now, I want to introduce Mary to Aggie. Is Hiram still home this m morning?”

  “No, sir. He left for work bright and early this morning. He and Liam have a court case over at the school. Circuit Judge arrived this morning and the whole town is at the schoolhouse watching to see what happens with Charlotte.”

  Big Angus reached for the bay’s reins and she handed them over. “Thank you.”

  She saw Doc frown. “What do you mean what happens with Charlotte? Charlotte at the Holy Moses Saloon?”

  “Yeah. That Charlotte. Some drifter came into the Holy Moses and decided Charlotte was one of the upstairs girls. When she tried to set him straight, he took offense. He grabbed her dress and ripped it. Heard tell then she grabbed a spittoon can and banged him over the head with it. I heard tell she hit him pretty hard. Anyway, the blow cracked his skull.”