by Vivi Holt
Christy turned back to the road, and frowned as she saw something ahead of them. “What is that?”
Brent squinted at the horizon and shook his head. “I don’t see anything.”
“There!” Christy yelped. “Watch out!” A rattlesnake lay in the middle of the road, hissing and rattling its tail.
Patty reared up on his hind legs with a startled whinny. The wagon leaned precariously to one side, spilling Christy and Brent out onto the road. She caught the brunt of the impact. “Christy!” Brent called in dismay, rushing over to where she laid in the dirt.
“Where’s … the snake?” she asked breathlessly.
“Long gone, I’d say.” Brent tried to help her to her feet.
She pushed him away, still searching frantically for the snake. She’d never seen a creature like that in Pennsylvania. As she tried to stand, she realized her ankle was swollen and her left leg was bruised.
“Stay still, Christy – you’re hurt.”
“Why did the horse do that?” she asked, pushing Brent away more forcefully this time, and struggled to her feet despite the pain. She was furious. “Why didn’t you listen to me when I warned you about the snake?” she asked. “Didn’t you believe me?”
“I’m sorry, Christy – I just didn’t see it.” Brent went after the horse and grabbed him by the reins, pulling him to a halt and bringing him back. “Here ― are you well enough to hold the reins while I check Patty and the wagon for damage and make sure that darn snake has skedaddled?”
Christy nodded and hobbled over to the horse with a scowl. She tried to hold the horse still while Brent checked the wheels of the wagon and looked around the roadside for the snake. “Whoa – easy, boy,” she said as the horse turned his head and began to nibble her hair. “What’s he doing that for?” she squealed.
Brent looked up. “He’s just curious. Hold him still for a minute. I can’t see the rattler anywhere, but I need to tighten one of the bolts holding this rear wheel in place. Almost done …”
She felt her heart beat faster as the horse brought his head close to hers again, his hot breath against her neck. The animal opened its mouth and bared yellowing teeth at her. She squealed and dropped the reins, jumping back in fright – and the horse bolted. She watched in wide-eyed dismay as he galloped off, taking the wagon with him and knocking Brent aside.
“Christy!” he called out. “Catch him!” But she was frozen to the spot in fright, and the horse was far too quick for her. He was a hundred yards down the road before she could process what had happened.
Brent stood and brushed himself off, his face dark as thunder. “How could you let that happen? Now we’ll have to walk and who knows what will happen to Patty. He might hurt himself and he’s a valuable beast. What were you thinking?”
Christy turned on him, her red curls coated in dust and dirt and laying limp around her face. “Me? This is hardly my fault – I’ve never handled a horse on my own before and I was doing my best! That creature was trying to eat my hair!” She reached a shaking hand up to her messy locks.
Brent looked at her, then burst into laughter, as if the whole situation were hilarious. She grew even angrier watching him. He was laughing at her, making fun of her when she was hurt, tired and dirty. She’d never felt more alone in her life.
He noticed her glower and calmed down, finishing with a small cough. “He was … he wasn’t going to eat the hair off your head, Christy,” he told her, a little embarrassed.
She crossed her arms and pouted. “Well, how was I to know? I think you’re being awfully rude to me, Mr. Taylor! I’m all alone with a strange man in the middle of nowhere, and you blame me because your horse isn’t properly trained?”
He sighed. “It’s not so difficult to hold onto a horse’s reins. I thought you would know how. I just hope I haven’t lost a valuable horse and wagon because you didn’t!” Now he was glaring at her.
She felt her lips trembling again. “I wish I’d never come to this awful place,” she whispered. “It was a mistake. Why did I think I could find any kind of happiness marrying a stranger?” Then she noticed the stung look on Brent’s face and wanted to bite her tongue. She wished she could take the words back.
“Well,” he said, turning away, “that makes two of us then, I suppose.”
Christy swallowed. She’d come all this way, only to be so rude she’d turned her own groom away. If he’d wanted her before, he certainly didn’t now. And now it was too late – they’d already gotten married. It was all just one terrible mistake.
“We need to find Patty and the wagon,” Brent said tersely and strode down the road.
She followed after him, tears streaming down her dirty cheeks. “Brent, I’m sorry! I …” But he didn’t even look back, let alone reply.
They walked in silence for more than two miles, Christy bravely attempting to hide her limp as she gingerly shifted her weight off of her injured ankle. Brent strode down one side of the road, while she hobbled as quickly as she could along the other. She kept trying to sneak glances at Brent without him noticing. Every time he looked her way, she felt tingles run up and down her body, even as the shame hit her all over again.
Why had she spouted off, telling him she regretted coming here? She recalled the look on his face as she’d said it, and it sent a dagger through her heart every time. Did he mean what he said? Does he wish I’d never come? Can I blame him? After the way I acted, I wouldn’t be surprised if he wants nothing more to do with me. Maybe it’s for the best – I don’t belong here. How could I ever hope to make a life here when I can’t even keep hold of a horse? How could I possibly think I could be his partner in life and help him to run a farm?
Guilt plagued her as she prayed they would find the wagon and the horse in one piece. I don’t care about my possessions, God. But please let the horse and wagon be found, so Brent doesn’t suffer any more loss. And let him forgive me for the harsh words I said to him.
She stopped suddenly and shielded her eyes from the sun. “Look!” she cried, pointing ahead of them on the winding track.
“What is it?” Brent snapped. “Another snake?”
“No.” Christy hurried down the road as best he could. “My trunk!” She limped to the luggage, only to find the lid broken and all her clothing, even those donated to her by Meredith, strewn far and wide in the dirt. “Oh dear. I suppose it’s just as I deserve,” she murmured.
Brent walked over to join her. “Don’t worry. We’ll find everything and see what we can do about fixing your trunk. And … well, at least we know he went this way.”
Christy nodded. “I feel bad because some of these things were given to me by Meredith – Mrs. Poke, the woman I stayed with in Topeka. She probably trusted me to take better care of them than this.” She hung her head.
Brent reached out his hand placed it gingerly on her arm. She looked and saw a faint flush creep up his neck. “I’ve been thinking … and I’m sorry. It wasn’t all your fault. I should have realized you’d be scared and nervous on your first day here. And I should’ve asked what you can handle, rather than assuming. I apologize for yelling at you, and for not being more understanding.”
Christy stared at her broken trunk. “I forgive you. And … can you forgive me for saying I wish I hadn’t come? I feel so helpless, so worthless. And I feel like I’ve let Meredith and my Mam down. If they could see me right now they’d be ashamed of my childish behavior, I just know it.”
He offered a half-smile, and her arm warmed and tingled under his hand. “Of course I forgive you. And I’m sure they wouldn’t be ashamed, Christy. You’re doing your best and you’ve been very brave. It just takes time to adjust, is all.”
“Thank you,” she squeaked. It was all she could manage.
He turned his head to look at the sun high over her shoulder. “I’m wondering if we’ll make it back before sundown. I … if you really don’t feel you belong here, I won’t keep you here against your will. I’ll take you back to the train
station the day after tomorrow if that’s what you want. But for now, we have to get moving – it’s getting late.”
Christy followed his gaze, admiring the colorful hues that the setting sun threw across the wide sky. She looked down at his hand, still resting on her arm. His touch was softer than she’d imagined it would be. But if this isn’t where I belong, even his touch making me feel alive inside for the first time in a long time can’t change that. Was I only fooling myself to think that this scheme could ever work out?
She pulled her arm from his grasp. “We’d best find your horse and wagon, then.” For the other concern, she didn’t have a solution.
“There’s the wagon,” said Brent.
Christy and he were walking side-by-side along the track, having repacked and closed her trunk where it landed. She looked up and sighed in relief. Even better, Patty the horse was standing by the roadside grazing, his reins dragging on the ground.
“Tired himself out and stopped for lunch, by the looks of it,” he commented as they reached the bay. He patted him down and checked him for injuries
Christy was tired as well, but didn’t have the option of grazing. She straightened up the back of the wagon – thankfully, her other luggage had stayed in the bed.
Brent guided Patty over to the wagon and backed him into the shafts. “Looks like his collar is fine and the traces don’t appear to be broken, only torn here where the buckle was attached. I think I can make it work using a different buckle hole.” He squatted down to fix it. “There, that should get us home after we go back for your trunk. He’s had enough rest that we can ride – if he hasn’t scared you off it.”
Christy climbed down from the back of the wagon, walked over to the horse and patted him gently on the neck. “I’ll take the chance - I’m too tired to walk all the way. At least we know now we’ll make it back before sundown.”
Brent smiled at her. “If you’re sure.”
She returned the smile. “Yes, I’m sure.” About that day, anyway.
12
“We’re home,” said Brent, pointing to the ranch house on a rise overlooking the fields in front of them. “It’s not much, I suppose …”
“It’s lovely,” Christy responded. She’d been afraid to say it, but part of her had been worried she’d be coming to a log cabin, or one of the sod houses she’d seen on the train trip there. But Brent’s home was a beautiful structure with a solid shingled roof and a wide verandah that flowed around the outside of the building. The structure was painted a brilliant white that stood out against the greens and yellows of the grasses. Several good-sized glass windows along the front of the house overlooked a vegetable garden, and a dusty wagon track circled from the house to the solid square doors of a tall timber barn.
She was exhausted, but the sight of it filled her with delight. She opened her eyes wide as she took in the sprawling building. “Wow, you’ve got room for a large family and more! I can see why you were lonely, living all alone in such a big place –” She stopped talking and blushed. It seemed uncouth to her to reference the admissions he’d made in his letters, now that they weren’t sure if the union was a mistake.
But he smiled widely at her. So maybe she was worrying too much.
Brent stopped Patty in front of the house, undid the traces and led the horse into the barn to rub him down. Christy followed behind, observing quietly. Once Patty was dry, Brent locked him in a stall and threw in a bale of hay. The horse dropped his head and took a bite, munching happily, his ears flicking back and forth.
Next, Brent led Christy back to the house and up the front path. “Now, I should warn you, it’s not all it could be. I’m not much at housekeeping, and the crops keep me busy outdoors, so …” He pushed the front door open and guided her inside.
She didn’t think much of the warning at first. The house looked so lovely from the outside that she had little concern about the interior. But the inside of the farmhouse was another thing entirely. The first room was an open living area with two large chairs before the hearth and a sturdy dining table with two more chairs. The kitchen lay beyond, hosting a stout cast-iron stove with a pipe leading up to and through the high ceiling. A brick oven dominated one wall and a sturdy worktable sat under a square window.
However, every room was full of dust, cobwebs, dirt and chaos, each in a worse state of disarray than the one before it. Christy wandered through them in dismay. Down a wide hallway, she found four separate bedrooms. Two were empty, and a third was full of unpacked boxes and furniture, including a few bookshelves. At the end of the hall, the master bedroom held a large feather bed, two bureaus, a trunk and … no, that wasn’t a dead rat, just a sock.
Brent caught Christy’s expression of horror. “I’m sure it will clean up just fine,” he said, not sounding sure at all.
She forced a smile. “Of course it will. It’s safe and dry, and that’s all I can ask for.”
He looked relieved as he hurried to put her trunk and bags in the bedroom. Then they returned to the living room to stand in awkward silence, looking at each other. Her stomach flipped, once. Maybe I could stay here after all … if he wants me to.
He stared hard at the fireplace and cleared his throat. “Well, you’re all set in the bedroom. I’ll sleep on the floor out here – I just need to get a fire going.”
“Oh,” she said. That confirmed that he was no more sure than she was. “Okay, then. Thank you.”
“There’s a bit of bread and cheese in the kitchen if you’re hungry,” he offered.
“Thank you,” she said, suddenly feeling ravenous. She went in, took a piece of bread from the breadbox and sat on a chair at the dining table to eat it. He did the same and quickly sat down opposite her, removing his hat and placing it on the table beside him. She smiled at him and bit into the crusty bread, savoring the yeasty flavor.
After their “meal,” Christy retired to the bedroom. She didn’t even unpack her bags, in case Brent decided to take her back to the train station and say goodbye to her forever. She hugged herself and stared out through the bedroom window across the darkening farm. The sun had dipped past the horizon and a chill breeze blew over the waving fields of grass. Her throat tightened as she thought about leaving this place. I’ve only just arrived – has it already won my heart?
Christy prepared for bed and lay down on the comfortable mattress. It had been a day full of surprises and she had survived them all. She wondered what the next day would bring.
The following day, Brent was up bright and early to tend to his farm.
“Oh dear, I must have slept for hours!” Christy muttered, chiding herself when she awoke and saw the sun high in the sky. She washed up, using a small jug of water and a cloth that sat on a bedside table in her room. Feeling refreshed, she wandered out to the kitchen to find something for breakfast, and discovered a hard-boiled egg Brent had left on the kitchen table, with a note beside it that read, “Good morning!”
She smiled and cracked open the egg, biting into it with relish. She felt guilty about sleeping so late when Brent had obviously gone straight to work, but she was tired after a long journey. Her whole body ached from being flung from the wagon and then having to walk to find it. And her ankle throbbed when she put weight on her left foot.
Still, though she might be returning to Topeka the next day, she didn’t want Brent to think her lazy. She gazed around the dusty and disorganized farmhouse. In the bright light of day it didn’t seem as bad as it had the previous evening.
She peeked out the back door, wondering where he might be. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but she did notice her trunk sitting there – he had mended it and wiped it clean. He’d also given the clothing in it a cursory wash and hung it out to dry on a line. Christy’s eyes filled with tears and her throat ached. She couldn’t believe he’d done all that. It was so kind, so considerate.
After the way she’d spoken to him yesterday, she was surprised he was willing to do anything at all for her. She’d behaved
like a spoiled child. But here he was, taking care of her before she’d even rolled out of bed. A gentleman, yes.
Christy ventured outside and gazed around the property. It sparkled and gleamed in the morning light, and she drew in a deep breath of the fresh, sweetly-scented air. It felt good to be outside. She strolled down the path toward the barn and let the sun warm her face. Hands pushed high above her head, she stretched and smiled. They’d gotten off to a rocky start, but the land certainly was lovely. It had a homey feel to it, as though welcoming her with open arms. The appeal of adventure was too much for her, and she set off to explore the property. She picked a few wildflowers along the way, sticking them behind her ears and in her hair.
As she skipped down a trail, she stumbled over a rock and fell, landing on her outstretched hands. She felt them splat into something warm and sticky. “What on earth?” She lifted her hands to her face and sniffed them.
“Augh! Manure!” She crawled from the path to a tuft of long grasses, where she scrubbed her hands vigorously to rid them the dung. She scrunched up her nose and stood to her feet.
As she peered around, wondering which way she should go next, she heard a short bark near her feet. She jumped backwards, landing on her rear. A large rodent stood close by, its hackles raised. It barked again before darting into a hole in the ground, sending her scuttling backward like a crab. The next thing she knew, she was rolling down an embankment, landing with a splash in a reedy creek bed.
The cold water seeped through her clothing in a moment, and she gasped. This adventure was not going well. And what was that creature? It looked like a big squirrel. What other wild animals could she expect to stumble across out here? Perhaps she should head back to the house.