"Maria Bennett" and all original material included in this story are the creations of Darcie Daniels.
May 1882
Heavy rains meant heavy mud. The rain stopped, but the same could not be said of the mud. Tiny rivulets carved their way through the quagmire of Curtis Wells, giving the streets a slow, moving appearance. The mud was something monstrous. The mud shifted; the mud splattered; the mud caked. The mud, in its voracity, claimed many boots and shoes, as well as the lives of the some unfortunate animals. It was slick and clingy and oozing. Had the town been situated on a hill, surely it would have slid off.
Getting shot in the leg the previous month did not help matters, Maria thought as she looked down at her feet. She was perilously balanced on a makeshift boardwalk, crutch in one hand and a bolt of fabric in the other. She had twenty more feet to Miss Taylor's, but it seemed like she would never reach the seamstress shop. Yet Miss Taylor needed the newly arrived fabric. It was May, and the wedding was set in June. There was little time to waste if Maria wanted her wedding dress made in time.
Maria had Mr. Creel wrap her fabric in heavy paper three times forwards and backwards. It was fortunate. There were already several smatterings on the paper. Maria knew one thing -- the mud had better dry up before her wedding. She was not going to have mud on her skirts as she walked down the aisle.
She thought sadly about her blood brother. She had wanted Newt Call to walk her down the aisle, but he had been missing since March. Maria wished with all her heart that he was alive, but it had been so long. There was no word - not from Woodrow Call or Enona Horn or anybody. Newt Call was presumed dead. There was little hope that he could be alive. The heavy rains lessoned his chance of survival.
Swallowing hard, Maria set herself on getting to Miss Taylor's shop. Her blood brother would want her to go on with her wedding.
She made reasonable progress despite the crutch, the fabric bolt, and her hobbling. There was no one behind her or in front of her on the makeshift boardwalk. There was nothing to upset her balance. Maria cautiously picked her way across the uneven planks. She was almost there. She was only a few feet away.
The makeshift boardwalk did just that - shifted. Maria felt herself falling backwards, but only one thing mattered. She dropped her crutch as she hoisted the bolt above her head. Saving the precious fabric was of paramount importance. She fell flat on her back in the mud, with her arms outstretched in front of her. She dared not look. She felt herself sinking in the cold mud. Surely it splattered onto her precious bundle. She opened her eyes, but mud was caked onto her glasses. She could not see if her fabric was all right.
She moaned out to anyone within the sound of her voice, "Someone ... anyone... help! Save the fabric!"
She tried to sit up, all the while holding the bolt out of the mud, but the mud held onto her and sucked her down. She had the sinking feeling that she soon would be a corpse in the mud. All they would find of her was her fabric. She sighed. It would have made a beautiful wedding gown at that.
She heard someone chuckling up on the boardwalk. She recognized the chuckle. It was Mr. Mosby, of course. He was always present to witness her humiliations.
"Miss Bennett, do you need some help?"
"Save my dress!" Maria wailed.
"It would appear that your dress is ruined, along with every other item of clothing you might be wearing."
She knew that she had to be the dirtiest person he had ever seen. "No, no! My wedding dress!" She flailed the bolt in her hands. "Hurry, take it before the charmeuse gets ruined!"
"Far be it from me to let your dress get ruined, Miss Bennett, or shall I say the future Mrs. Robert Shelby?" he commented wryly. "Zeke, get the lady's bolt of fabric."
Maria felt the bolt lift out of her hands. She did not breathe until she heard Mr. Mosby's hireling step upon the boardwalk.
"Zeke, take the fabric to Miss Taylor's. I'm sure that was Miss Bennett's destination."
Maria nodded in the mud. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Mosby," she said, trying to sit up. The quagmire held her firmly in place. "You are most kind."
She continued to struggle and then felt a firm hand lift her out of the mud. Mr. Mosby helped steady her on the boardwalk. Maria took off her glasses to wipe them clean, but to her dismay, she had nothing to wipe them with. Mr. Mosby proffered her his handkerchief.
She thanked him again and wiped furiously at her glasses. She peered at him through her streaky spectacles.
She held his handkerchief out to him, but he stayed her hand. "No, no. You keep it. You might be needing it."
She looked down at the fine square of cloth in her filthy hands and wondered how she would ever make it white for him again. She wondered if Mr. Lau had some sort of bleach she could use. Uncle Josiah never kept anything like that at home.
She was about to tell him that she would embroider his initials into his handkerchief when she noticed an elegant woman standing beside him. The woman's beautiful dress was immaculate, despite the mud.
"Why, Clay," the woman commented, taking his arm. "This poor unfortunate child. You really must do something about these streets." She had a distinct accent, but it was not like Mr. Mosby's. Maria could not guess where the woman had originated. Maria squinted through her grimy lenses to see that the woman was older than Mr. Mosby. She appeared to be about Uncle Josiah's age.
"Yes, Olivia, my dear," Mr. Mosby nodded patiently. "The town council's working on it right now, even as we speak." He squeezed her gloved hand.
Maria frowned. She wondered ... her fiancé had spoken of an old friend that was supposedly coming to town for a visit. Mr. Mosby was quite affectionate with this woman. Was this beautiful lady the friend that her fiancé had been referring to?
It was a good thing mud caked her face, for she could feel it redden. This was not the proper way to meet her fiancé's old family friend.
Maria wondered if there was any way she could put off the acquaintance, but it was too late. The beautiful woman regarded her with curiosity and with a hint of pity.
"Olivia, my dear," Mr. Mosby began. "I'd like you to meet Miss Maria Bennett, Robert's lovely intended. Miss Bennett, I'd like you to meet Miss Olivia Jessup, a very good friend of mine."
Maria smiled as graciously as she could, despite the mud baking on her face, as she lowered into a curtsy. Her leg wound made the movement difficult, and Maria prided herself on not toppling over. Miss Jessup curtsied as well, but with practiced elegance.
Miss Jessup removed her hand from Mr. Mosby's elbow. She reached out to Maria. "Why, Clay, we must get this poor child -"
"Olivia!" Maria heard a delighted Robert Shelby exclaim from behind her. He stepped between them, giving Miss Jessup an affectionate embrace. He held her at arm's length. "When did you get in? I -"
Then he noticed his fiancée. He looked stunned. "Honey? Is that you?"
Maria could not remember when she ever felt this level of anguish and suffering. She hid behind her hands. "No," she answered him. It seemed her fiancé was always present for her humiliations, too.
He chuckled and pulled her close to him. His hand rested at her waist. "Honey, this is wonderful. My two favorite women are here in one place. Maria, I'd like you to meet Olivia. Olivia, this is my fiancée."
Maria smiled again and gave her a small nod. Miss Jessup reached out with her gloved hand and took Maria's arm.
"We must get you inside, Miss Bennett," she said. "You'll catch your death of cold. Look at you. You're shivering."
Maria thought how kind she was to ruin her pristine glove.
"I'm fine, Miss Jessup," Maria said as her fiancé placed his jacket over her shoulders, "but I really must check on my fabric."
"I'll look after it for you. You get cleaned up," Robert told her.
"No, no, no!" Maria exclaimed. "You mustn't see the wedding dress before the wedding!"
"Sweetheart, it isn't a dress yet."
"That's beside the point. Mr. Mosby, you're going to be the best man. You tell him that it's bad luck to see the wedding dress. He'll listen to you."
Mr. Mosby made a helpless sort of gesture. He grinned at his friend. "You heard the lady, Robert. Women know these things."
"God forbid," he replied, winking knowingly at Mr. Mosby. The two men began to chuckle.
"I'm sure your fabric will be fine, my dear," Miss Jessup interrupted, pulling Maria closer to her. "We simply must get you inside. Now come along. We must get you out of this damp air."
Again, Maria found herself thinking how kind she was. She hoped that she would become friends with the older woman.
"Come with me, Miss Bennett. We must tend to our proper ablutions at the Dove, and then the gentlemen may join us for luncheon. Gentlemen," she said, turning towards them. "You may join us for luncheon at the Dove in a half an hour." Miss Jessup scrutinized Maria. "You'd better give us an hour. We have much to talk about."
Maria allowed Miss Jessup to lead her down the boardwalk for a short distance before Maria realized that she was missing something.
"My crutch!" she exclaimed.
They turned to look out into the sea of mud. Mr. Mosby was the first to comment. "It's a lost cause, Miss Bennett. We'll have Unbob make you another. How will that be?"
Maria was very grateful for the town proprietor's thoughtfulness and generosity. "Thank you, Mr. Mosby. You're most kind."
"Think nothing of it. Robert, I just received a new shipment you might be interested in. If you wouldn't mind accompanying me back to the Ambrosia ..."
Maria watched as the gentlemen turned and sauntered in the opposite direction. She finally allowed herself to be led off by Miss Jessup.
She wondered how the petite woman was going to support her, but Miss Jessup was not as fragile as she looked.
With the help of the wooden banister, Maria hopped down the stairs of the Lonesome Dove Hotel with as much grace as she could muster. Miss Jessup, of course, floated, looking much like a flower petal descending to the earth. Maria envied her. She wished that she could float, too. Miss Jessup was also exceptionally beautiful and charming. In fact, Maria thought that Miss Jessup was wonderful in every regard. It was evident that Miss Jessup was a woman of high breeding.
While Miss Jessup consulted with Miss Carpenter about some aspect of her room, Maria hobbled over to her fiancé's table. He was in deep discussion with Mr. Mosby. They spoke in low tones.
Maria balanced patiently on her good leg until they noticed her. Robert seemed to be disagreeing with his friend about something.
"Clay, you better damn well make sure this is what you want. You can't go back after this."
"I've thought about it. I know what I'm doing."
Then Mr. Mosby noticed Maria waiting for them. He replaced his grim visage with something resembling a smile.
"Miss Bennett, do sit down," he said, standing up.
Robert stood as well, reaching for her. He still seemed displeased by his discussion with his friend. He kissed her on the cheek, and helped her into her chair.
"Well, honey, how do you like Olivia?" he asked with forced pleasantness.
"She's fantastic," Maria declared, still curious about what the Southern gentlemen were discussing. "She uses the biggest words I've ever heard in Curtis Wells. She's very elegant."
"Good," Robert commented, chuckling as he squeezed her hand. "I knew you'd like her. So you got along well, did you?"
"Oh, yes," Maria answered. "She asked me about my mother and my parents and about my aunt and then about my family here. She seemed curious about my uncle. I think she knew Uncle Josiah from when she was here before. She told me that she visited Curtis Wells a few years ago. She said that Mr. Mosby was her only friend here, but she had to leave because of a business opportunity in Denver. Oh, Robert -- she wants us to visit her in Denver. She's getting married shortly after we are. She wants us to attend her wedding. Do you think we can go? They have the most marvelous opera house in Denver, or so I've been told. I'd love to see it."
"I think something can be arranged," Robert said as he nibbled on her hand.
Maria smiled and blushed, looking shyly away from him. Mr. Mosby watched them. He had a look of longing on his face, or perhaps it was a memory of something that he may have experienced long ago. He looked down into his coffee cup. There was a moroseness in his features that Maria was not used to seeing. She wished Mr. Mosby could find the happiness that she had found with her dearest Robert.
Maria remembered that she had a crush on Mr. Mosby at one time. It seemed so long ago. He kissed her once, and after the kiss, he told her that he was wrong for her. Mr. Mosby was right. He was wrong for her. Mr. Mosby told her that she would find happiness with someone else. He told her that they would always be friends. Maria did not believe him at the time, but Mr. Mosby was right about that, too. How ironic it was that she should find happiness with Robert Shelby, Mr. Mosby's best friend.
Maria wondered if Mr. Mosby ever pondered about the irony of the situation. She wondered if Mr. Mosby ever thought about his missed opportunity with her.
Yet as she looked into Robert Shelby's hazel eyes, she knew that Mr. Mosby had been right all along. She loved Robert Shelby with all her heart. He was the right man for her.
What Mr. Mosby missed was the companionship of a good woman. He missed the marriage that he never had been truly allowed to experience so many years ago. He missed his wife Mary.
All that he missed with Maria was her friendship. Their relationship had changed since ... but nothing could have helped that. Maria wondered how she could help him now, but they hardly talked. Maria had thought about how she and Mr. Mosby had eaten their breakfasts together nearly every morning. Now they exchanged just a few pleasantries, and that was seldom.
It was rather sad, although necessary. They were wrong for each other, and they both knew it. She regretted ever kissing him, and she knew that he felt the same way about her.
She would never regret his decision, though. If Mr. Mosby had not decided to spurn her love so long ago, then she would never have known such happiness with Robert Shelby. Mr. Mosby unknowingly gave her the best gift she could ever hope for.
Maria squeezed her fiancé's hand as her eyes gazed lovingly into his. Robert Shelby meant everything to her. She grinned at him, amazed at her good fortune.
"Miss Jessup told me that she knew you and Mr. Mosby before the War. She said that you cut a dashing figure in your uniform. I would have loved to have seen you in it, Robert. I'm sure that you were very handsome."
He grinned at her. "He made colonel," he said, nodding over to Mr. Mosby. "I made captain. I hope you can be satisfied with that."
"I've always liked captains. They sail ships so wonderfully."
Robert laughed at her. "I wasn't in the Navy, Maria."
"I'm glad you weren't. I've read about THE HUNLEY. The captain of that doomed ship was still mourning over the death of his wife when his ship sank beneath the sea. It was speculated that he didn't care if he lived or died."
Maria saw the glance exchanged between Mr. Mosby and her fiancé. She thought that perhaps she should not have said that. She supposed that Mr. Mosby felt that way many years ago when he lost his wife.
She cleared her throat. "Miss Jessup did seem highly curious about my uncle, though. They must have been very good friends. I wonder if he knows that she is engaged to be married, or indeed, whether she is even in town. I'm sure Uncle Josiah will be excited to see her."
"You'll have to pardon me," Miss Jessup interrupted. "My discussion about my accommodations with Miss Carpenter took much longer than I originally thought. I do hope that you've continued on without me."
"Nonsense," Mr. Mosby said, his moroseness turning into a brilliant grin. He stood up and helped Miss Jessup into the chair next to his. "And deny ourselves the fairest flower of New Orleans? I think not." His fingers lightly touched her shoulders before he sat down.
Mr. Mosby was highly fond of her, Maria thought. It was a good thing. Mr. Mosby needed more friends.
Maria regarded Miss Jessup. She was extremely lovely. Maria thought that she had the straightest nose she had ever seen.
Soon their lunch arrived. Maria thought that Miss Jessup had the most elegant table manners in Curtis Wells.
"Gentlemen, you'll never guess whom I've recently met in Denver. You do recall Mr. Thomas, don't you?"
"Gerald Thomas?" asked Mr. Mosby. "Didn't he live over by Clement's Farm?"
Robert began to laugh. "Clay, you remember when we dressed up the Clement's prize pig in your cousin Rowena's bonnet? We ran that pig right down the center of the refreshment table at her cotillion. Splashed old Judge Miller with punch all down his prissy white suit."
"Yes, that was the demise of his suit, and my father tanned my hide for it, believe me, " Mr. Mosby added wryly. "But that bonnet did match the color of her eyes."
"Your cousin Rowena's, too. Is she still speaking to you, Clay?"
"Not since she married George Peabody and moved to Europe. It's been ten years, at least."
"Gentlemen, you must have been incorrigible during your childhood. If you'll let me finish without lapsing into the reminiscences of your reckless youth, you'll never guess what Gerald Thomas is doing these days. Clay, you'll be especially interested to learn this bit of information. He runs the bank that is currently backing the Carmichael negotiations. He personally owns 1000-acres of prime grazing land. I should think it would be wise to contact him, Clay."
Mr. Mosby grinned. "Did I call you the fairest flower of New Orleans? I should have called you the brightest and fairest flower of Denver."
Miss Jessup smiled from his compliments. "That's not all, Clay. You do recall that Mr. Thomas had a daughter. She married Jeffrey Willis of Denver, who conveniently owns the Landover mine in Greeley. She always did like you, Clay. It would be perfect investment opportunity for you."
Maria tried to follow all the names and places in the conversation, but she became lost. She smiled politely and nodded and tried to appear interested. When Luther Root entered the Dove, Maria could not help but look at him. He was looked weary. He had been searching for his friend Newt Call. Maria felt guilty. She had been enjoying lunch while Mr. Root braved the elements looking for her blood brother.
Her eyes caught his. He shook his head sadly. Her eyes looked down at her hands in her lap. She bit her lip as she smoothed the napkin.
Maria found it difficult to smile convincingly during the remainder of the meal.
After lunch, Mr. Mosby insisted on showing Miss Jessup the improvements that had been made in Curtis Wells since her last visit. This was to be done along the existing boardwalk, of course. Miss Jessup changed into a different frock to make allowances for the mud. Maria wanted to go with them, but when her fiancé saw that her limp was worsening, he insisted upon escorting her back to the newspaper office so that she could get some rest. Miss Jessup seemed hesitant to enter the newspaper office. She waited with Mr. Mosby as Robert took Maria around to the back entrance.
She was about unlock the door when Robert spun her around and kissed her most passionately.
"Robert!" she admonished him, a blush rising to her cheeks.
"Sweetheart, you look so fetching today. I can hardly contain myself. Do you know how hard it is to keep my hands off you?"
Then he kissed her even more passionately. His body pressed against hers, and her body pressed against the door. The kiss would have taken her breath away had her uncle Josiah not chosen that moment to open the door. Both Maria and Robert tumbled into the parlor. He fell directly on top of her. They giggled.
"Honey, you all right?" Robert asked her as he helped her sit up. She adjusted her glasses, giving her uncle a dubious look.
Josiah shrugged, quoting, "Knock and the door shall be opened."
"Uncle Josiah, we weren't knocking."
"Well, you wouldn't know it from this side. I heard you fumbling about out there."
Maria turned five different shades of red. Robert tried to hide his grin as he helped her stand up.
Then Josiah turned to admonish him. "Young man, I will not have you fornicating in my back parlor. That will have to wait until after you're married. Understand?"
Maria felt that she might burst into flame from embarrassment. "Uncle Josiah! How could you?"
Josiah snorted at her, then turned his gaze on Robert. "Well?" he demanded.
Robert grinned. "'It is better to marry than to burn.' Corinthians, 7:9."
"That's FIRST Corinthians, young man. If you are going to quote scripture, get it right. I suggest you spend more time in church and less time defiling my niece."
Maria was unsure if she could be more mortified. She hid behind her hands.
"Forgive me, Mr. Peale, if I'm a bit rusty. I haven't seen the inside of a church since Gettysburg."
"And I suppose you've the seen the inside of many a saloon since then, Mr. Shelby, if I haven't missed my guess."
"Uncle Josiah, that's enough. You know he lives in the saloon with Mr. Mosby. You've been there upon occasion."
Josiah gave her a warning look.
Maria snorted at him. "Now I suppose I won't tell you about the good news concerning a friend of yours I met today. I won't say how she was asking about you."
Josiah looked confused. "'She?' 'She' who?"
"She's right outside the front office door. She's waiting patiently with Mr. Mosby while you berate my fiancé. Now you'll never know who it is."
She winked at Robert. He grinned boyishly at her, and Maria knew that had her uncle not been present, that Robert would have kissed her most passionately again. She liked it when he kissed her most passionately.
Her uncle frowned and marched to the front of the office. Maria giggled. She tugged at Robert's hand, urging him to follow her uncle.
Josiah opened the front office door to reveal an anxious Miss Jessup waiting beside Mr. Mosby. She straightened her dress and lifted her chin proudly. That was revealing enough, but what was even more shocking to Maria was her uncle's behavior. He swallowed hard and buttoned the top of his shirt. His posture became more erect.
"Olivia," he stammered.
"Josiah," she nodded, her voice calm. Her gloved hand clung to Mr. Mosby's arm.
"I - I," Josiah began. He looked down to the ground. His body slumped.
"I'm so very sorry to hear about your loss. I had hoped my letter reached you ..."
"It did." He did not say anything for a moment. "Now Newt's gone. I suppose he's in heaven with Hannah. She always was with the angels. Hannah left us alone to live in a dark and unforgiving world." His pale eyes stared, as if seeing into another place.
Robert shifted uncomfortably as Maria drew herself closer to him. Mr. Mosby looked to the ground. Miss Jessup patted his arm. She turned to Josiah, frowning in concern.
"Josiah," she said.
His melancholy seemed to lift. "But now you've come to lighten our spirits. You are like a fresh breeze to a fevered soul."
Miss Jessup smiled, batting her eyelashes at him. "You always did have a way with words, Josiah."
Indeed he did, Maria thought. She had never heard her uncle converse in this way. She smiled brightly at her fiancé. It seemed that there was a lot more than just two old friends reacquainting themselves. Perhaps Miss Jessup and her uncle had been romantically involved years ago. Something must have kept them apart. Perhaps something tragic ...
"Maria," Robert whispered in her ear. "Olivia's an engaged woman, remember? Get that look out of your eyes."
Maria frowned at him. She was not doing anything wrong.
"Dear Josiah, are you still writing your clever little editorials? I remember how they inflamed the senses, as well as the townspeople to your particular point of view."
Josiah's eyes shifted to the ground. "No." Then he looked up. He straightened his vest. "I'm the mayor."
Mr. Mosby cleared his throat. "Yes, Olivia. He's been the mayor for a few years now. He presides and officiates in a way that only Josiah can." Then he addressed Miss Jessup. "Come, my dear. I'm afraid we must be going. Robert, you coming?"
Her fiancé kissed her on the cheek, then fell in step with his friends. Before they turned to leave, Miss Jessup regarded Josiah. A gentle smile tugged at her lips.
"I am sure, Mayor Peale, that you will clean these muddy streets and make the town safe again. I have full confidence in you."
Josiah beamed at her.
"I'm afraid my tour awaits. Clay is anxious to show me the improvements to the town. Would you care to join us, Josiah?"
Maria saw Mr. Mosby's eyes roll to the heavens as her uncle nodded his approval. "The more the merrier. Miss Bennett, will you be all right alone?"
"I'll stay with her," Robert said, a twinkle in his eye. He took his place at her side, his arm resting on her waist.
"Now you remember what I said about the back parlor, young man," Josiah commanded.
"Yes, sir. Olivia, I'll see you later."
Everyone said their goodbyes, and Maria watched them proceed down the boardwalk. Maria noted with satisfaction the lightness in her uncle's step. There was a life about him that she had never seen before.
She frowned, not sure of how her uncle would take the news of Miss Jessup's engagement. If only Miss Jessup was not engaged, then Maria might have something to work with. She craned her neck as she watched them turn the corner.
"Maria," Robert warned her.
"What?"
He gave her a disapproving frown. She enveloped him in her arms to distract him.
As he nibbled her neck, she supposed that she really ought to take his advice. She should wait and see what developed between Miss Jessup and her uncle.
Only then might she spur it along ...
Newt Call, weary and sick, crawled in the cold mud. It seemed an effort for him to lift his gun. His hand took shaky aim. Even if he could shoot quickly, it was impossible for him to get them all. They surrounded him. They growled at him. They wanted to tear him apart.
One wolf was black and huge. It stood apart from the others, from beyond the wounded man's view. It watched the pack on the hunt. The prey had little chance. Then the black wolf began to growl. Its long fangs dripped with saliva. The others began to snap at it as it moved towards them. It sprang to the center of the circle, in front of the wounded man. The white wolves attacked the lone one, but the black wolf threw them off by the twos and threes. One yelped after another. The wounded man tried to crawl off. The black wolf stayed in front of him, snapping at any other wolf that tried to approach. The man shot his gun into the air. All the wolves ran into the woods.
Except the lone one.
Its blue eyes stared into the night.
Maria sat up from her bed, trying to catch her breath. She had nightmares about her blood brother many times since his disappearance, but this time it was different. Usually, she dreamt of wolves surrounding him, but she never dreamed beyond that. That usually frightened her so much that it kept her awake for the remainder of the night.
Now all she could see were those blue eyes. They floated in front of her like some cold apparition. Those were the eyes that haunted her blood brother ... if he was still out there.
Her heart raced. Maria wanted him to be alive, but she knew that it was unlikely. She hobbled over to her window and looked out. She did not know what she expected to see. All she could see was blackness. Absolutely nothing.
She felt very lonely. She began to cry. Her poor blood brother died out there feeling that ache of loneliness. He lived his last moments in fear and in pain.
She wiped away her tears and crawled back into her bed. She hugged her pillow. She hoped that Newt Call had known that she had loved him.
She closed her eyes and saw those blue eyes. She buried her nose into her pillow, but the blue eyes did not go away.
The blue eyes stared into the night.
"She's gonna hurt herself, Miss Maria," Unbob said as he fidgeted. "Old Bob Clifton's horse slipped and broke her leg, and we had to put poor Nellie down. She was a nice old horse, too."
Maria watched as the Hell Bitch pawed inside her stall. The horse looked considerably better since she had returned riderless a few months before. She still limped a bit, but the horse was more energetic.
"Every time we let her out, she's always shooting for the fence. The Hell Bitch's a little shaky to be fussing around in the mud is all."
Maria frowned. She knew little about horses. She wondered what could be done.
"You think she wants to find Call? Maybe that's why she fretting so. Now that she's better she can go find him. What do you think, Miss Maria?"
The Hell Bitch probably knew where her blood brother had died, Maria thought. The horse wanted to go to his grave.
"That's a damn good idea, Unbob," she heard Mr. Root exclaim as he entered the livery with his mount. "But we best be waiting till it dries up some before we take her out."
"You think he's still alive, Luther?" Unbob asked, a hopeful gleam developing in his eyes.
Maria caught Mr. Root's glance. He seemed to consider it for a moment, then he finally replied, "Yeah, I do."
Maria looked down as Unbob excitedly prattled on about something. She realized after a moment that Unbob was asking her a question.
"What should we do about the Hell Bitch for right now?" he asked her. He had only consulted her because she had been responsible for the horse's expenses for the past few months.
She swallowed hard. "Give her as much care as you've shown me." She gave Unbob a grateful look for her new crutch. "That's about all you could do until she heals, right?"
Both men nodded in agreement. Unbob left her alone with Mr. Root to get some feed. The Hell Bitch pawed at the ground.
"Easy girl," Maria whispered.
Mr. Root began to brush down his horse.
Maria was afraid to ask. "Any word?"
Mr. Root sighed and shook his head.
"Anything about Captain Call or Miss Horn or anyone?"
Again, Mr. Root shook his head sadly.
Maria bit her lip. "Did you really mean what you just said to Unbob? Do you think he's alive?"
Mr. Root regarded her. "Don't you?"
Maria sighed, closing her eyes. Her lids snapped open when she saw the pale blue eyes of a wolf staring back at her.
"I don't know," she finally replied. "It's been so long."
"Well, I'm going to find Call," Mr. Root nodded in determination at her.
"I pray that you do," Maria said. "I wish I could help you in some way. I feel so useless. If I went out with you, then I would just be in your way. I don't even know how to ride a horse! I wish I could do something, anything to help."
Maria could hear each stroke of Mr. Root's brush on his mount.
"Call knows you love him," he said quietly.
Tears welled in her eyes. "Thank you, Mr. Root. For everything."
"Thank me when Call's back."
Maria wiped her eyes. "Do you think the Hell Bitch can really find him?"
Mr. Root brushed his horse's mane. "Nah. Just saying that for Unbob, is all. Horses can always find their way back home. Finding lost folks, well, that's a different story."
Maria looked down. Maybe the Hell Bitch did not know where Newt Call had died.
"I hope he's not cold," Maria wished out loud.
"Call will be all right," Mr. Root told her.
Maria bit her lip. Her nightmares told her that a wolf had stalked her blood brother. She prayed that she had been wrong. She hoped that his end had been swift and painless.
"Go on with your wedding plans. Call would have wanted you to. He'll be there to see you hitched. You'll see."
"He'll be there for my wedding?" she asked. It was more than she could ever hope for.
"You'll put a flower on his jacket."
"A pink one?"
Mr. Root snorted. "Well, maybe another color."
Maria smiled through her tears. It really was too much to hope for.
It was a good sign to see her uncle Josiah conversing happily with Miss Olivia Jessup. They walked upon the boardwalk, and her gloved hand rested on his arm. She was resplendent in forest green. He looked proud to be by her side.
Maria moved to get a closer look. She wondered why Mr. Creel had to display so many items in his window. They hampered her view.
What could they be talking about? Did her uncle know about Miss Jessup's engagement?
Maria hobbled around a large sack of beans as her uncle and Miss Jessup continued down the walk. She hoped that she would not have to risk showing herself by going outside to spy on them. But she simply had to know what was going on.
She nearly knocked over some kerosene lamps as she craned her neck to get a better look. She steadied the lamps as Mr. Creel came out from behind his counter.
"Is there something I can help you with, Miss Bennett?" he asked her pointedly. He stood protectively in front of the lamps.
He was in her view.
"Yes, yes, I need some flour," she said, trying to peer around him.
"Very well," he responded. "How much would you like?"
The man was in her way. "Oh, I don't know. However much you have on hand."
"You want all of it?" he asked incredulously.
"Yes. That will be fine, thank you." She was missing something very important that was taking place outside because of him.
"Well, what are you baking?" he asked.
Did the man have to be so nosy? Her uncle and Miss Jessup would soon be out of her sight if the man did not get out of her way.
"Cookies. Lots and lots of cookies."
"Would you like it delivered, or will you be taking it with you?"
Couldn't the man fill a simple order? "Just wrap it up, thank you." She to wave him out of her way.
"Very well," he sighed, finally moving away from the window.
Maria stomped her foot. They were gone.
She sighed, supposing she would have to find out later what her uncle and Miss Jessup were discussing. In the meanwhile, she continued her shopping.
She heard the bell on the door as it opened. She glanced to see who walked into the store. Startled, Maria quickly proceeded to knock over some brooms, causing a crash on the floor.
The woman bounty hunter whirled around and aimed her weapon. When she saw who caused the calamity, she holstered her pistol, a disgusted look on her face. Enona Horn strode over to Mr. Creel's counter.
Mr. Creel did not know who to fear more as he looked back and forth between the two women.
Her heart racing, Maria placed the brooms in their former positions. She had to speak to Miss Horn. Perhaps she had some news about her blood brother.
Miss Horn gave Mr. Creel some orders for provisions, and he went back into his supply room. Miss Horn leaned upon the counter. She did not look very happy.
Maria cleared her throat. "Miss Horn?"
The bounty hunter's pale blue eyes focused on her. They had a dangerous glint to them.
Maria stepped back. The bounty hunter continued to stare at her.
Maria squared her shoulders. "Is there any word? Is there any news?"
"Does it look like it? I've just ordered supplies for two more weeks." The bounty hunter turned her gaze towards the back room.
"Where have you been looking?"
The woman bounty hunter appeared ready to spit as she glanced at her in annoyance.
"Mr. Root has been out looking. Perhaps you could consult with him."
Miss Horn turned around to face her. "You don't think I know what I'm doing?"
Maria did not wish to offend. "I never said that."
"Then keep your nose out where it shouldn't be. Don't you have anything better to do than to pester folks?"
It was Maria's turn to take offense. "He's my blood brother, Miss Horn. I know I don't know much about anything, but I still love him. I just want to help."
"Then let me take care of things in my own way, and leave me be." The blond woman looked away aloofly.
Miss Horn truly was difficult. She reminded Maria of Newt Call in many ways.
"Was there a bounty that he may have been looking for?" Maria questioned. "Perhaps someone knows something that may have happened."
"Look," Miss Horn signed in annoyance. "I've already looked into that. There haven't been any bounties in these parts for awhile now. Call wasn't looking for a bounty when he went missing."
Maria frowned.
"He was looking for something out there, though. I'm sure of it. But what?" Miss Horn wondered out loud.
Maria remembered the last thing she had discussed with her blood brother before he had disappeared.
The white wolf.
She gasped. She had told him that she had seen a white wolf ... that it had been stalking her. Then her blood brother left town, and the Hell Bitch had returned all bloody and torn. She had not seen the white wolf since. Or him.
Why could she not connect the two?
A cry escaped her mouth as the pain ripped into her very soul. She had killed him. He went out there to search for her white wolf, and he had been killed. She had killed her own blood brother.
She fell to her knees, her arms wrapped about her. Tears of agony streamed down her face. She wanted to die. Surely, she wanted to die.
"What the -" Miss Horn exclaimed when she saw Maria. Then she grabbed Maria by her dress and sat her down on the large bean sack. The bounty hunter shook her.
"What do you know?" Miss Horn demanded.
Maria stared at her dumbly.
"What do you know?" Miss Horn repeated, slapping her on the face.
The sting of it woke Maria up. "Wolves," she choked out.
Miss Horn looked at her in bewilderment. "What?"
"Wolves. I see wolves. He went after one. He's dead. He must be dead." Maria rocked back and forth, hugging herself.
Miss Horn shook her again. "Stop it! Tell me. Do you know this for real or is this just a dream?"
Maria stared at her.
"Is it a dream?" Miss Horn snapped. "Do you see it in a dream?"
Maria shook her head. "I don't know anymore."
"Damn it. Why didn't you tell me this before?' Miss Horn stood erect. "Well, we're going to find out what it means. Come on. You're coming with me."
Maria did not know what kind of nightmare she had walked into. She grasped the waistband of Austin's trousers around her middle. At least Miss Horn allowed her to change before riding out to the Indian reservation. The trousers were too long for Maria, and she promptly tripped on them as she dismounted. A fearsome young Indian man looked upon her with narrowed eyes.
Miss Horn and the young man exchanged greetings in his tongue, and soon they dragged Maria inside of a tipi. Much to her dismay, a fire burned in the middle of the structure.
They sat down cross-legged. Maria was glad she had worn Austin's pants. This kind of thing could not be done gracefully in a dress.
The young man placed some bitter leaves upon her tongue. He asked her to lean in closer to the fire.
"But Mr. Crow - "
"I told you before. My name is Red Crow. Do not give me white man's name."
"Yes, Mr. Red -"
"Red Crow," he repeated somewhat irritably. "Now lean in closer. Listen to what it has to say."
Maria frowned. She was hot, and she felt light-headed. The last thing she wanted to do was to stare into a fire. Fire burned ... fire destroyed.
"I don't like fire," Maria explained. Sweat beaded at her temple. "Isn't there some other way?"
"Just do it," Miss Horn snapped. "This ain't no tea party. Do you want to help your blood brother or not?" The bounty hunter put something on her tongue and leaned in closer to the fire. She drew the smoke over her head, and her eyes took on a glazed expression.
Maria gulped, shut her eyes, and leaned in closer. She fanned her face with her hands. She coughed when she inhaled the smoke.
She heard the young man throw something into the fire. She heard the small explosion and felt the intensity of heat from the flames. She leaned back. She became very afraid.
"Tell us what you see," Red Crow intoned.
Maria did not want to open her eyes. She hated fire.
She gasped. The blue eyes stared back at her.
She opened her eyes, but she did not see flame. She saw the black wolf instead. It lingered near to her blood brother. The blond man was wounded and weak.
"Newton," she moaned.
"What do you see?" Red Crow encouraged.
"Get away!" she yelled at the wolf. "Stay away from him!"
"What spirit walks on the path of your blood brother?"
"A wolf. Wolves," she cried out. Now the white wolves were trying to attack him. Maria tried to place herself between the animals and her blood brother, but it was of no use. She could not move her legs.
The black wolf would not let the other wolves get near to her blood brother. It threw off the others.
"Its fangs. It has horrible fangs," Maria moaned. She could see the blood drip off from them. "It attacks the others. It wants to destroy and kill. Get away, Newton!" she cried out. She was there, but she could not help him crawl away.
The white wolves were destroyed or gone. The black wolf remained, its breath laboring. It looked towards her blood brother.
"Get away!" she shouted again. The black wolf remained.
"The wolf does not go!" she cried out. "Make it leave Newton alone! Go away!" she told it. "Go away!"
She began to sob. It would not leave. She could still see its blue eyes staring at her.
Then she saw the flame and shuddered. "What does it mean?" she asked Red Crow. "Is Newton dead?"
The young Indian man seemed to consider it for a moment. "The blood of your brother flows in you. Your blood flows through him. The beating of your heart will tell you. What does it say?"
Maria was confused. She could feel the thudding of her heart. She wanted to believe, yet ....
"But the wolves?" she asked. She could not reconcile the wolves.
"There is one that protects him - the black one, the one that is alone. But only you know if your blood brother lives."
Maria looked towards Miss Horn. Perhaps she understood what he wanted.
Maria frowned. She could see a large tear fall down the bounty hunter's face. Miss Horn seemed unaware of her surroundings.
"Tyler" Miss Horn whispered as she stared into the flames.
"She knew about her brother," Red Crow explained quietly. He threw something into the fire that made it flare. Both Miss Horn and Maria flinched.
Miss Horn wiped the tear from her face as her expression hardened. "What does she know?" she demanded.
They looked towards Maria.
"What does your heart tell you?" Red Crow asked her.
Maria clutched her heart, closing her eyes. She could feel each beat as it pounded against her chest.
"Listen," he said.
Maria tried to feel for her brother. He was there, inside, each time she took a breath. He was there with each pulse of her blood.
"Newton," she whispered, opening her eyes. She smiled.
"Call walks among the living," Red Crow said. "You would be wise to listen to your spirit animal."
"My spirit animal? What are you talking about?"
"The wolf," Miss Horn explained. "He's talking about the wolf.
"Did you see where Call was?" she asked Maria. "Mountains, rocks, a landmark -- anything?"
Maria was still confused about the Indian man's comments. "No," she answered. "I saw only wolves."
The blond woman stood up. "Let's go then. Can't learn nothing else here."
Maria was unsure if she wanted to learn more about her spirit animal. She stood up reluctantly. She almost tripped again on Austin's pant legs.
"You sure you named her spirit animal right?" Miss Horn asked Red Crow.
He smiled. "She is the one that has seen it in her dreams. That makes it so."
As the young Indian helped her mount up behind Miss Horn, Maria asked him a question. "What is Newton's spirit animal?"
He seemed to consider it for a moment.
"The dove."
"Where have you been?" Austin demanded, looking down at her wearing his pants. "You look awful."
Maria hobbled into the newspaper office to see her cousin and uncle staring down at four large sacks of flour.
Maria gathered his pants about her waist. She wondered what the flour sacks were doing there, but she could not be bothered with that. "You'll never guess. Oh, Austin, I'm so glad you're back. I have the most wonderful news."
"What is all this flour doing here?" Josiah asked her, not hearing what she had said. "Creel had it delivered. He said that you were baking cookies. How many cookies do plan to bake, Maria?"
"You gonna clean my pants, Maria?" Austin added.
Maria decided her male relatives were all very silly. "If you would just listen -"
"This reminds me of the story about old Jedediah Peale," Josiah continued, ignoring her. He rocked on his heels. "He was tarred and floured once. Seems he insulted the mayor's wife, and the mayor's relatives didn't take it too well."
"Don't you mean 'tarred and feathered'?" Austin asked him, a bemused smile on his face.
"No, not Jedediah. They didn't have any feathers. So they tarred him and rolled him flour. Old Jedediah came out of there looking like a ghost, or so he said. Good old Jedediah Peale."
Maria hoped that he was finished with his story. She wanted to tell them the good news.
"Now if both of you would just listen -" she began. Then she gasped. She caught a movement outside the window. There was a man on a horse that pulled a travois. On the travois was a wounded man. The man riding the horse was Captain Woodrow F. Call. The man on the travois ...
Her heart pounded. It was him. It was really him.
"Newton," she whispered.
Josiah threw open the door and ran into the muddy street. Austin stared after him, dumbfounded. Maria hobbled over to the edge of the boardwalk. She began to cry. She could not get to him. She turned back to her cousin, who stood in the doorway.
"Take me to him," she pleaded. Already she could see Josiah patting and holding his son-in-law. Austin's face was indiscernible.
"Please, Austin," she begged. "You want to go out there as much as I do."
She could see his jaw twitch. He gave her a small nod and picked her up. By the time Austin had deposited her near the wounded man's travois, many townspeople had already gathered about him, included Unbob, Miss Horn, and Mr. Root. Josiah still hovered near his son-in-law as Unbob chattered away excitedly. Captain Call's leg was injured. Mr. Root caught him before he fell from his horse. Maria gripped Austin's hand. She could not see her blood brother amongst the crowd. She could not see the extent of his injuries. Tears fell down her face. Austin said nothing. Dr. Cleese arrived, declaring that both wounded men be brought to his office immediately. Mr. Root assisted a weary Captain Call through the mud, and Unbob led the horse pulling the injured bounty hunter. Soon, Austin and Maria stood alone in the street.
Maria turned to her cousin with tears in her eyes. He still said nothing, but she could see the twitching of his jaw.
"Oh, Austin."
She launched herself onto her cousin. Remarkably, he did not shrug her away.
He pulled away and straightened his jacket. He looked down at her with a severe look. "You look stupid in my pants."
Maria grinned at him. She knew that she did, but she did not care. Her blood brother was alive. Things were going to be different from now on.
"Take me home, Austin. I want to change."
January 2004