AUTHOR'S NOTES:
"Maria Bennett" and all original material included in this story are the creations of Darcie Daniels.
The inspiration for this story took place on the night Eric McCormack appeared on Jay Leno. Mind you, it was nothing that Eric said to Jay that night. It was rather an opening monolog right before Eric's appearance. The rest is history. :)
Thanks to Deb for her "inside" research.
Setting: CW, late March 1881
"Mr. Root!" Maria scolded. "Put me down!"
Luther Root only laughed as her feet dangled three feet from the ground. That stagecoach man may have been a friend to Mr. Call, but he was entirely annoying to Maria.
She told herself that she would not resort to punching him on the chest. It would only look more undignified.
"Only having a bit of fun, Maria," he told her as he put her down on the walkway. "Besides, you don't want mud on your boots."
Her boots were stuck in the mud, and he knew it. Maria had a particularly hard time of walking in the muddy streets that morning. Men simply had no idea about the care involved not to get the petticoats a mess, yet not to raise the skirt above an indecent level. Not only that, but the mud clung to anything not tied tightly. Maria was laboriously involved in the process of crossing the street when Mr. Root spied her problem and laughed. Mr. Root may have thought he was picking her up to "escort" her to Mr. Creel's shop, but he was wrong. Her boots came off her feet and stuck directly in the mud. Even though it was impressive that Mr. Root could easily trudge through the unyielding mud and carry her weight at the same time, Maria needed no gallantry from him.
"Leave me alone," Maria spat out, making sure her dress covered her stockings. She looked ridiculous without any footwear.
Mr. Root ignored her, looking down at her feet. He seemed impressed. "You got big feet for a girl."
Maria looked at him in shock and dismay. What a horrible thing to say! "Oh!" she cried. "You insufferable brute! Go away and leave me alone!"
He laughed at her. "You're funny, Maria."
Maria had better things to do than to entertain him. "Mr. Root," she commanded, "Don't just stand there. Go get my boots. And quit calling me 'Maria.'"
Mr. Root only had the gall to chuckle at her. "Yes, ma'am."
Maria watched him walk in a direction entirely away from her muddy, lodged boots. She stomped her stocking feet on the walkway in frustration. That man! And how in gracious name was she going to get her boots?
A sea of mud loomed between herself and her footwear. There was no possible way she could get her boots without getting dirty. What she needed was someone to retrieve them for her. Maria saw Mr. Call across town near the dry goods store. Surely her blood brother would help her. Maria just needed to get his attention.
Maria pondered about the problem. She could not yell for him ... it would be too un-ladylike. She had a handkerchief up her sleeve. Perhaps it would be best to wave him down.
Maria proceeded to wave as inconspicuously as she could. Mr. Call did not see her. She waved a bit more franticly. He still did not notice. She began to jump up and down. Maria thought it was a good thing that there was no one on the street except Mr. Call. She must have looked ridiculous.
"Are you trying to hail someone?" she heard a bemused Southern voice inquire behind her.
Maria froze. She recognized the voice immediately. It was Mr. Shelby -- the man she had been trying to avoid for a month now. She had testified on his behalf at his trial a month ago. Largely due to her testimony and Mr. Mosby's efforts, Mr. Shelby was acquitted. However, Maria's statements caused a severe rift in her relationship with her cousin Austin. Ever since, Austin treated her rudely, and Maria was no longer allowed to live in the newspaper office with her family. She now lived at the hotel. Though she supposed Mr. Shelby was really not to blame, Maria avoided him anyway.
Hesitantly, she turned towards him, hiding her handkerchief behind her back. Mr. Shelby stood in the doorway of the general store, studying her with a grin.
She blushed, wondering how long he had been standing there.
"Perhaps there is something I could do for you," Mr. Shelby suggested, still smiling at her. He gave no indication that he noticed her lack of footwear.
Maria regarded him curiously. He was sincere. She knew that he was grateful for her help at his trial. She remembered how he kissed her the very night he was acquitted.
Blushing even deeper, Maria shook her head. "No, Mr. Shelby," she brought herself to say. "I can't think of thing."
Unfortunately, her toes were beginning to freeze. It took all the strength she had to keep herself from fidgeting. She only hoped that Mr. Shelby would not notice.
"Are you sure there isn't something I can do for you?" he questioned again, his eyes narrowing.
Maria bit her lip. Her toes were really hurting by now.
"No," she shook her head again. "Thank you, really."
Mr. Shelby sighed, shaking his head in turn. Then he tipped his hat to her. "Good bye, Miss Bennett."
"Good bye, Mr. Shelby."
She watched him walk out into the mud. Mr. Shelby showed little sign of exertion, although it was only last month that a vicious wolf attack nearly killed him. He must have been a healthy man to recover so quickly.
Then Mr. Shelby caught sight of her lodged boots. He looked at them, then back at her. He thought about it for a moment, and then he chuckled.
"Would you like me to get them for you?" he called back to her, grinning broadly.
Mortified, Maria was unsure how to respond. She could not have a strange man touching her boots, yet he was the only one that could get them for her. Mr. Shelby was also the man that her cousin Austin hated. If Austin even thought that Mr. Shelby was talking to her, she knew that her cousin would disapprove. Maria was only glad that Austin was not there to berate her at this very moment.
Maria shrugged, clutching her handkerchief to her heart. It all seemed so hopeless.
Still laughing, Mr. Shelby turned to retrieve her boots. He jumped back, however, when a stage sped furiously in front of him. Remarkably, Mr. Shelby was not hurt, nor was he even splattered with mud. Her boots were not so fortunate. Maria could not even see them anymore.
Maria let out a small wail. What was she going to do now?
Mr. Shelby trudged back to her. His eyes were bright from the exertion.
"They're a lost cause now," he informed her about her boots. "Perhaps you have some spare ones at the hotel. I could get them for you if you like."
Maria blushed again. She could not have some strange man in her bedroom going through her things. She blushed even more deeply when she remembered where her other boots were. They were underneath an old corset that she had tossed in the closet. She could not have a strange man touching her corset. Besides, Maria did not properly place her pillow when she made her bed that morning. There were too many horrors for Mr. Shelby to see in her bedroom.
Maria whispered to him, "No, Mr. Shelby. You couldn't possibly ..."
Mr. Shelby seemed exasperated at her behavior. "Perhaps Creel has some for sale," he suggested, nodding behind him to the general store.
Maria knew that she did not bring enough money with her to buy boots. She only brought enough to get some small items. "I only have enough money to buy some ribbon."
It was too bad she did not have any ribbon now. She would choke Mr. Root with it next time she saw him.
"I'd be glad to buy your boots for you," Mr. Shelby offered with a most charming smile.
Maria felt her face burning. She could not have a strange man buying her boots. Every time she wore them she would be reminded of their buyer. She remembered Mr. Shelby's kiss. Though brief, it was highly affecting. It simply would not do. There was too much at stake.
Maria wished there was a corner she could hide in at this very moment.
"Oh no, Mr. Shelby. I could not ask you to -"
"I see," Mr. Shelby nodded, his voice turning dark. "You're just like everyone else in town. My money isn't good enough for you. You think I'll rob you blind, or perhaps murder you at night. Well, it really doesn't matter any. People have thought about me that way ever since I was a boy. I only give you my reassurances, Miss Bennett, that upon my honor, such as it is, that you will come to no harm."
With that, Mr. Shelby tipped his hat and stalked away from her.
"Mr. Shelby!"
Maria did not know why she called out to stop him. Perhaps it was because he was wrong in his assumptions - she did not think him a criminal. Perhaps it was because she empathized with the wild little boy he must have been. Maria could not let him continue thinking the way that he did.
He turned back toward her, the anger still evident on his face.
She smiled shyly. "Thank you so much for trying to get my boots. Most men would not have braved the mud, but you have faced it most nobly. Thank you for your kindness."
His expression softened somewhat. He studied her for a moment. "You're welcome."
Maria was unsure of why he continued to regard her. Perhaps he was like a knight of old, expecting a token of gratitude from his damsel in distress.
Maria did not know what she could give him. She looked to her hands. Impulsively, her hand darted out to give him her handkerchief. Almost instantly, Maria yanked it back behind her. She remembered that she could not possibly give it to him. Maria had blown her nose on it early that morning. It would be rude, let alone highly inappropriate, to give him a soiled handkerchief. Silently, she cursed Mr. Root. All of this was his fault.
Mr. Shelby frowned at her.
Maria hesitantly brought the handkerchief forward. "I will give you this handkerchief to express my appreciation. But first, you must allow me to clean and press it. I could stitch your monogram onto it, if you like."
Mr. Shelby stared down at her handkerchief, a small smile coming to his lips. Then his eyes positively twinkled at her. "My middle name is 'Foote.' It was my mother's family name," he explained when he saw Maria's confused expression. "Do you have a middle name?"
Maria was somewhat startled that he asked. "Rose," she answered him. "My mother's first name was 'Lily.' I suppose my parents were continuing the flower theme."
Mr. Shelby grinned at her. "It's an appropriate name."
Maria blushed. Mr. Shelby was rather handsome. "What color would you like your monogram?"
"I love the color green. What's your favorite color?"
The man was being entirely too personal. "Pink," she replied. She knew that was the color of her face at this very moment.
"Of course," he nodded.
Green was Aunt Elinor's favorite color, Maria remembered.
"My feet are blue," Maria stated matter-of-factly. They were, too. They were mighty cold.
Mr. Shelby laughed. Her offered her his arm. "Allow me to escort you in the store. I will buy you some boots."
Maria smiled at him. She supposed it really couldn't hurt. Her hand reached out to his when she heard Mr. Root behind her.
"Gee, Maria. I didn't think they'd get run over," Mr. Root said, looking over where her boots used to be. He looked sorry. "I was going to get them for you. Honest."
Maria frowned at the stagecoach man. He probably arranged for the coach to run directly over that spot. "It doesn't matter. Mr. Shelby here is going to buy me some new boots at the store."
Mr. Root threw the Southerner suspicious look, then shrugged. "Ah, there's no need for that. I can take you where you want to go."
Without asking, Mr. Root picked her up again. Before she could mutter a single protest, he was nearly halfway across the street, heading towards the barbershop. "Mr. Root!" she reprimanded. "You're going the wrong way! The hotel is that direction!" It was useless to point, since Mr. Root did not bother to veer towards it. As the stagecoach man laughed, she saw Mr. Shelby from behind his shoulder. The Southern man seemed as startled as she was. "Thank you, Mr. Shelby!" she called back to him, waving her handkerchief. "Good bye!"
She saw him give a baffled wave back to her. Maria turned her attentions back to Mr. Root.
"You have the poorest sense of direction I've ever seen," Maria told him as he plopped her in front of the barbershop. "Remind me never to get on the stagecoach with you. I'll never get where I want to go."
Mr. Root chuckled. "I'll only be a minute. Wiggam owes me some money. You can come in if you want."
"A barbershop full of men?" Maria asked incredulously. "I think not."
"God, you're funny," Mr. Root laughed, as he opened the shop door.
Maria wished he would hurry up. Her toes were freezing.
It took him another hour before he finally made it back to the hotel. Mr. Root found it quite amusing to tow Maria around. Maria found it highly irritating, and she nearly refused to allow him to buy her lunch. All during the meal, she expressed in detail how she was to threaten him with her spoon. Mr. Root thought it very entertaining.
Finally, Mr. Root left her alone. Maria retrieved her old boots from her room, and left immediately to find Mr. Call. He needed to be kept informed of her daily events. He was her blood brother, after all.
She searched the entire town but with no success. The Hell Bitch was gone from the livery. She hoped that Mr. Call was not on another of his dangerous bounties. She knew that he was entirely capable of defending himself, but still Maria worried. Perhaps the Hell Bitch would get hurt ... perhaps Mr. Call would be stranded out in the cold. Maria did not like to think of him out there, rubbing his hands together, blowing on them for warmth. Right then and there, she decided that she ought to make him some mittens. The poor man needed her help. She had to see to his welfare.
Maria doubled back to the livery, hoping perhaps that she had been mistaken about the mare's presence. She was not. The mare was gone.
Worried, Maria scanned the woods that outlined the town. Nothing. She decided to head back for the hotel when an enormous track caught her attention. She stared down at it curiously. It didn't look any boot track that she had ever seen, and it certainly didn't look like an animal. It looked like a shape of a big foot.
"Yours?" she heard Mr. Root's voice ask from behind her.
Startled, Maria jumped back. Mr. Root crouched to get a closer looked at the track. It was definitely big.
"No!" Maria protested about the size of her feet. Mr. Root was only trying to annoy her.
She knelt down with him to look at the track. "What is it?" she wondered aloud.
Mr. Root regarded it for a moment, and then laughed to himself. He stood up, a serious expression clouding his face. "It's mighty big, whatever it is. I'd stay inside for the next couple of days, if I was you. There's no telling what a thing this size could do."
That sounded bad. "What is it?" Maria questioned him again, alarm on her face. Mr. Call was out there with whatever that ... thing ... was.
"Hard to tell. It's best to be careful at times like this."
Maria regarded him suspiciously. Perhaps Mr. Root was only trying to fool with her, but Mr. Root looked very serious.
"Mr. Call is out there somewhere. Do you think he'll be all right?"
Mr. Root's face contorted. It seemed difficult for him to conceal whatever emotion he was trying to hide. "No telling. I'd best find him before it's too late." Mr. Root quickly turned away, heading back into the livery. She watched him as he rode out of town.
Maria shook her head. She hoped Mr. Root was only being his usual jokester self. She hoped there was nothing that big lurking outside of town.
"Damn it, UnBob, there's no such thing as Bigfoot," Mr. Mosby exclaimed, throwing down his napkin at the dinner table. It was two days later, and Curtis Wells was in an entire uproar. There were big foot tracks in the mud all over town.
Maria could not help but overhear their conversation. She sat alone at the next table in the hotel.
"But Mr. Mosby, Mr. Root says those things were made by a Sasquatch. He just knows it. Him used to being a trapper and all, he ought to know! What are we gonna do, Mr. Mosby? What if they come after my pigs?"
"UnBob," Mr. Mosby breathed out with great patience, "your pigs will be fine. There's nothing out there making those tracks except some fool human pulling a prank."
"But Mr. Root says -"
"I wouldn't be surprised if Luther himself was the one making those tracks. It's just like him ... he makes the tracks and then gets everyone nervous by spreading around the story. It would be quite amusing, really, if construction on the railroad weren't starting here in a couple of months. The last thing this town needs is to be in the throes of mass hysteria."
Then they heard a scream from out back. The inhabitants of the hotel quickly filed out to see what was going on.
Through the crowd, Maria could see Miss Carpenter comforting one of the cooks. The cook had just found a track just outside of the hotel.
"What's going on out here?" Mr. Mosby demanded as he made his way up to the front.
"Damn it, Clay," Miss Carpenter told him. "You gotta make these tracks stop. My help is getting scared off, and people aren't going to want to stay here at the hotel if they see tracks right outside of it."
"Amanda," Mr. Mosby started, and then as if an afterthought, he began to address the crowd, "Everyone. Some fool prankster made these tracks. They aren't real. There's nothing to be frightened of. It'll be perfectly all right. Go on about your business. Don't give into this foolishness."
Maria thought Mr. Mosby was right. It had to be the work of a prankster.
Most of the crowd seemed to believe Mr. Mosby's soothing words, too. They slowly left. Miss Carpenter shook her head and gently ushered the distressed cook back inside of the hotel. Mr. Call, who was back from whatever mission he was on two days ago, crouched to examine the track. Mr. Root leaned on the wall near to him. His arms were crossed nonchalantly.
Maria stayed to hear Mr. Call's opinion on the matter. Mr. Mosby obviously remained for the same reason.
"Well, Call?" Mr. Mosby drawled. "You have some great insight you wish to share?"
Mr. Call smirked, looking up from the track. "It ain't human," he replied. Then he stood up, threw Mr. Root a significant look, and added, "Ain't animal, either." Then Mr. Call turned to amble off.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Mr. Mosby stopped him.
Mr. Call shrugged and looked off to the side. "Ain't none of my affair." Then he succeeded in mysteriously ambling off.
Maria followed the bounty hunter as she heard Mr. Root laughing at Mr. Mosby. She wanted to know what Mr. Call meant, too.
"Newton!" she called out to him, running her most lady-like run, finally catching up to him. "I'm most glad you have returned in safe condition. You have no idea how I worried, but you honestly don't think there really is a Bigfoot, do you?" she exclaimed in one entire breath.
Mr. Call, a man of few words, seemed impressed by Maria's amount of hot air. He gave the matter some thought, and then shrugged again. "Like I said, ain't my business."
Maria frowned at him. Surely he understood what made that track.
"I believe Mr. Mosby. I think a prankster is making those tracks all over town. There is no such thing as Bigfoot. I would bet that Mr. Root himself is placing those tracks."
Mr. Call shrugged again. "Don't know. Haven't seen Luther in a spell. No telling what he's been up to."
Maria figured as much. Mr. Call thought he did it, too. "I knew there was no such thing as Bigfoot."
Mr. Call's blue eyes reflected thoughtfully. That made Maria curious.
"What?" she asked him.
He gazed to the distance, and then turned back to her. "I've heard mighty strange things."
Maria frowned. That did not sound good.
"The Lakota call him 'Chiye-tanka.' They believe the Creator sent them a big elder brother to warn them of bad times. He exists in the body and the spirit."
It took a moment for his words to sink in. "It's big and hairy, isn't it?" Maria asked him fearfully.
"Don't know. Ain't never seen one. But they say he knows when people are looking for him. He might turn into a snake or coyote or back into a big man. He can walk through the trees like a moose."
"Is it violent?" Maria brought herself to ask, beginning to get scared.
Mr. Call's thoughtful gaze returned back to her. "An old Lakota seer showed me a tree once. Broke off about eight feet. He said it was the big man."
Maria gasped. That did not sound good at all.
Then she got a hold of herself. Her blood brother was only trying to frighten her. "Oh, Newton. All of this is a bunch of nonsense. There's no such thing as Bigfoot."
Mr. Call shrugged. "If you say so."
The Bigfoot tracks mysteriously disappeared when Mr. Root left Curtis Wells on the stage. That had been several weeks ago. After he left, the hysteria died. Life in the town, except for the occasional shooting and stabbing and other such minor mayhems, was quiet. Everyone in town went about their business. The only tracks that caused any excitement in town now were the ones by the railroad. Mr. Mosby and several railroad representatives were scouting specific locations about the area. The only debate now was not about big, hairy creatures, but about steam-powered locomotives and where their tracks would eventually lie.
Maria, for one, was glad the excitement was over. The whole idea was ridiculous, although Mr. Call's interpretation on the matter did give it a little credence. In the weeks following Mr. Root's departure, she went about her business, too. She sat on Mr. Call's bench, giving him her opinions on a variety of matters. She knew that he always appreciated that sort of thing, and she laughed when he grimaced or yawned out of "boredom." As for her cousin Austin, Maria attempted to get back in his good graces, but nothing she tried seemed to help. Her uncle Josiah was, as ever, lost in a sea of confusion, though he did have his moments of lucidity. When she was not with her blood brother or her family, she kept to herself. She would go out on walks or read her books. Even though it was cold outside, Maria always liked her reading tree. She would climb up it and read for hours at a time.
She borrowed one of her uncle's books when she ran out of her usual reading material. Edgar Allen Poe was a bit macabre for her tastes, but still, Maria appreciated Poe's style. She loved the irony of the "Black Cat," and his mysteries were first rate. Late into the twilight, she read a book of his short stories in her tree. "The Fall of the House of Usher" was particularly chilling. She gasped during the appropriate parts and shivered at the eeriness of the Usher family. Though her family had its faults, Maria was glad they were nothing like the Ushers. There was one similarity, however. Maria sadly knew how her late cousin Hannah haunted her family, and indeed, the entire town, but Maria was glad Hannah was nothing like the Usher sister. The demonic woman positively chilled Maria, and try as she might, Maria could not put the story down. Though it was getting late, Maria told herself that she would only read just one more page, but the pages turned into stories, and the stories turned into the entire book. It was good for her that the twilight in Montana lasted for what seemed like hours. A lot could get read in that time.
Maria squinted to finish the last chilling page just as the sun died for the day. Maria cursed herself. Darkness hid the true shape of things, and it was just as easy to spot a ghost as it was the outline of a tree. Now Maria completely understood that late night Poe was not good for the nerves. She wondered how Josiah could read such things. Her poor uncle even had "the Raven" memorized. She shook her head sadly. Her uncle ought to be reading something witty to brighten his senses, not dark material such as this. It was positively chilling reading about living corpses.
Maria gracefully dropped from the tree and began her walk back to Curtis Wells. The darkness impaired her vision, and soon she realized that she was off her usual path. Her heartbeat quickened. It could be deadly to get lost on such a cold night.
She was lost. Maria tried not to panic as she remembered what Mr. Call told her to do in these situations. The most important thing to do was not to wander around in the dark. It would be too easy to fall and break a leg, and then she would be no help to herself. She also remembered his exact words. ... that she ought "to hunker down and find shelter." She should try to keep warm, keep herself protected, and when it was light, she would likely find her bearings. Mr. Call's wisdom had never failed her before, so Maria felt a little calmer. If she did as he suggested, then she ought to be fine, Maria told herself.
Luckily, she was near to an old hollowed-out tree. Maria tucked herself inside, clutching her shawl closer. She knew it had to be colder than it was fifteen minutes ago. She only felt the cold more acutely because she had nothing but the night to focus upon.
Maria never realized that the woods were so noisy. She heard the creaking of the trees. She heard the breath of the wind. She heard the hooting of owls. She heard the howling of coyotes. Her ears were sensitive to everything. Each noise made her nervous.
Maria's eyes became more accustomed to the dark. The sliver of the moon provided enough light to give the trees a distorted, tangled appearance. As the wind blew through their barren tops, the trees almost looked like giants swaying. She wished she had not read those short stories. Everything was spookier than it ought to be.
Maria clutched a fallen branch that she found near the hollowed tree. She knew that she could not beat a ghost off, but she might stand a chance against anything actually living if she swung hard enough.
She noticed a tree that looked different from the unearthly, giant-shaped trees. It was not too far from her, and its top was jagged. It looked like the treetop had been ripped from the trunk. Maria could not help but remember Mr. Call's story from a few weeks ago. Maria told herself that it was ridiculous. No animal could have snapped the tree like a twig. Only the force of nature could have such brute power.
Why, she was more likely to be accosted by the demonic ghost of Miss Usher than she was to be attacked by the preposterous Bigfoot. Such thoughts were crazy. The whole idea of ghosts and phantom creatures was laughable. Maria knew that if Mr. Call were there, he would be snickering at her right now.
It was always a good idea to adopt her blood brother's coolness during times like this. She knew that if Mr. Call were in her same position, he would probably be snoozing. That was exactly what Maria decided to do. She ought to be getting some rest. In the morning, she would find her way back to town. All would be well.
She had just settled down to an uneasy doze, when a loud snap woke her up. It was no ordinary snap -- that she was certain. Only something large could have made that kind of loud crack. Whatever it was, it was big.
It was also angry. She heard something of a grunt. It was not a growl. A growl would have indicated an animal of some sort. Though the thought of confronting an angry and wild animal at night was alarming, it was nothing compared to the terror of the unknown.
It could not be human, Maria realized. No human could possibly be that large. A human would have cussed if he had stumbled in the middle of the night.
The terrifying noise was coming closer. Quickly, Maria reasoned that it was no ghost. A ghost would just float through the woods. A ghost would have moaned, too. Besides, there were no such things as ghosts.
Whatever it was, it was real. It was ungainly, and it made the most unusual grunts. And it was coming closer.
Maria gripped her stick tightly. It was not an animal. It was not a human, either. It was terrifying.
Maria tried to remain as quiet as she could, although she was sure that anything within a 10-mile radius could have heard the thudding of her heart.
Finally, she could make out the creature. It was tall, and the moon revealed that the creature was covered entirely with fur. It faced away from her. It stood on two legs.
The creature seemed to sniff at the air as if sensing her presence. Maria tensed, clutching her stick. She was not sure if a stick could offer her much protection. A thing that large could easily rip her apart.
It let out a snort. Then it seemed to carry on with whatever it was doing. It moved away from her.
Maria let out a sigh of relief as she cautiously leaned back against her tree. The thing stopped in its tracks. It must have heard her.
Maria held her breath as the creature turned to face her. She still could not see it clearly. Maria was not sure if she wanted to ... she was sure that the thing was ugly.
The creature moved towards her. It knew where she was. It had to know. Maria could not afford to scream. It was only a few feet away from her now. She still could not see it. The clouds must have blocked the moon overhead. She could smell it, though. There was something about its smell that was as ungainly as its walk. Yet there was something about that smell....
Maria did not have time to think as the creature suddenly crouched down. Screaming, she swung with all her might at the thing. The creature, surprised, yelped. Maria heard it grunt as her stick met its mark. She swung at it again, but this time the creature grabbed the stick in mid-air. Trembling, she tried to wrench her only means of protection away from the creature. Suddenly, she became aware of if it barking out her name.
"Maria. What the hell are you doing?"
She recognized the voice.
"Mr. Root?" she asked tentatively. Maria was so certain that a creature was attacking her that she could not believe her own ears.
"Yeah, it's me. I'm not going to hurt you. Let go." Mr. Root finally yanked the stick from her grasp.
She could finally see him clearly. It was Mr. Root. He was clad in fur.
Maria had never been so glad to see the stagecoach man in her life. She almost thought she would cry. Instead, she clutched him tightly. She let go when she heard something move about in the woods. She tensed again. Perhaps there was something really out there now.
Mr. Root moved protectively in front of her. She could see his body quickly relax.
"Call," he said.
Maria sighed. It was only her blood brother.
"Luther," Mr. Call acknowledged. "You found her then? She all right? I heard screaming."
Soon, Maria could see Mr. Call kneel in front of them. He tried to look unconcerned, but his eyes betrayed his worry.
"She's fine. Damn near broke my ear with that scream of hers, though." Mr. Root rubbed his ear, as if deafened.
Maria frowned. "I'm sorry, but you nearly scared the life out of me. I thought you were a -" Maria stopped short. It was best not to tell them what she was really thinking.
Mr. Call could not let the subject go. "You thought he was a what?"
Though it was black outside, she did not need light to know that he was snickering.
Mr. Call probably knew what she thought it was, but Maria was not going to say. "Something big," was all she could mutter.
Mr. Root laughed heartily. Mr. Call let out something of a snort.
Perhaps it was a little funny, Maria conceded. "Well, what would think if you saw Mr. Root traipsing towards you in the middle of the night? It would frighten you, too."
Mr. Root objected to that. "Now, I didn't mean to scare you none."
Maria could hear his sincerity. "I know, and thank you for finding me, but I can't understand why the both of you are out here in the middle of the night. You two were the last people I expected to see, though I'm glad you're here."
Mr. Root nodded over at Mr. Call. "Call here thought you needed finding. Amanda said you never checked in at the hotel, and Call said you might be in trouble."
Maria could hardly believe it as she looked over at her nonchalant blood brother. Tears formed in her eyes. He loved her. He really loved her.
"Oh, Newton!" she cried, her hand clutching her heart for fear that it might burst from happiness. Her tears of gratitude and joy flowed freely.
It was no good. She could not contain herself any longer. She launched herself upon her blood brother, hugging him with all her might. "You're so wonderful, Newton," she exclaimed through her tears. "Whatever would I do without you?"
Maria could feel him tense in her arms, but she did not care. He needed a hug. Pretty soon, he was struggling with her.
"Now, git," he ordered, trying to shrug her off. He swatted at her. "Stop that."
Maria fought to keep a hold of him. Hugging him was rather fun.
"Git, damn it, git. If you're wantin' me to git you back, you best leave me be."
She immediately let him go. She did not want to be out here a minute longer than need be.
Mr. Call looked ruffled, but he soon regained his manly aloofness.
"Now, we best git going." With that, he stalked off into the night.
Maria immediately picked up her uncle's book and began to follow him. Mr. Root stopped her. He placed his fur pelt around her shoulders.
"Your coat stinks most horrifically, Mr. Root, but thank you for your kindness. Now we best follow Newton, or we shall get lost."
Mr. Root laughed at her, and picked her up. He began to tote her around.
"Mr. Root!" Maria scolded. "There is no mud here. Put me down!"
Mr. Root ignored her and went off into the night.
"Mr. Root!" she exclaimed, pounding on his chest. "Newton is going that way, you big brute!"
Mr. Root eventually caught up with Mr. Call, but not before he traipsed about the woods a little longer with Maria in tow. The trio safely made their way to Curtis Wells. They were home.
END
March 2002
See also: North American Bigfoot legends