Summary: Joe and Adam make an unexpected discovery on a hunting trip

Rating: M    Word Count: 16200

The Covered Wagon

Joe

“Hoss, what do you say to a hunting trip?”

My brother scowled at the viscous mud on his clothes.

Heck, I should have picked a better time to ask. Sometimes, my impatience was a curse on me. Hoss was wet, dirty, and freezing after freeing the steer from the mudhole. He probably already thought of a hot bath and a cup of coffee in front of the fireplace.

“I don’t know if Pa will let us go. He will leave for San Francisco this weekend, and the cows are already in calving season.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s not smart to travel this time of year. All of us are needed on the ranch—lots of work to do. Besides, the wild sheep and antelope used up their winter grease. The roasted lamb wouldn’t be fat and juicy but lean and dry. And antelope are scarce lately.”

“Sheep’s leg … Hop Sing would braise it long and gently until it’s tender, and with enough sauce … Hoss’ face lit up like a lamp with the wick turned up. “Maybe a hunt ain’t so bad. Let’s go ask Pa. A couple of days off should be possible.”

I hid my satisfied grin behind a casual expression, trying not to fidget around. Years of practice were paying off. I had perfected the art of convincing Hoss to do what I wanted, or at least making him think he had come up with the idea instead of me.

It was like fishing. You needed a good bait, and once the fish was on the hook, you had to keep a tight tug on the line.

“We would have to ride into the mountains if we wanted a ram. We need at least two days there and back. Pa’s not letting me go until I’ve done all the chores he gave me.” I held out my hand, counting on my fingers. “First chop wood, second sharpen the axes, then grease the wagon wheels, replace shingles on the porch roof—”

Hoss put a big hand on my shoulder, squeezing. “Leave that to me. Pa won’t say no if I ask him for a few days off. I suggest him to help you with your work.”

“Hey, you’re great!” With a broad grin, I patted Hoss on the back. Although I appeared calm, my heart made somersaults with excitement. A few free days with my favorite brother! It was going to be great!

 

My saddlebags had been packed for days, the rifles were cleaned and oiled, and my knife sharpened. Every time I brought the trip up at dinner, I could see Pa and Adam exchanging glances and grinning at my eagerness. Maybe they were glad to have me out of the house for a while so I could run wild.

 

Returning from the herd that evening, I recognized Doc’s buckbord in the yard. An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. Paul Martin had no reason to make a social call since Pa had left with the stagecoach that afternoon.

Without taking care of my horse, I stormed into the house. “What happened?” My question echoed in the empty living room. Where was everyone? Adam appeared at the top of the stairs and came down so calm I wanted to grab him by the shirt and shake him. “Is anything wrong with Hoss?”

“Easy, Joe. Hoss will be all right. A horse kicked him.”

“Hurt bad?” When I heard more footsteps, I turned my head.

The doctor had his little black bag in his hand and a smile on his face as he went down the steps. “Howdy, Joe.”

My shoulders slumped in relief. I was good at judging how sick the patient was by Paul’s expression. The laugh lines beneath his eyes and his relaxed posture told me it wasn’t too serious. I started unbuckling my holster and slipped out of my jacket. “Hey, Doc. What’s wrong with Hoss?”

“Well, he shouldn’t ride for at least one week. He’s got a pretty bad bruise under his kneecap.”

“When he re-shoe that bay, he kicked him,” Adam informed me, looking absent-minded like he was considering something.

I knew we could forget about going hunting together. Determined to take the bitter disappointment like a man and to hide my feelings from Adam and Paul, I bowed my head. My voice was low. “All right. I will take Cooch to the stable and start chopping wood before supper.”

“Wait a minute, Joe!” Adam grabbed my arm, causing me to look up in surprise.

“Huh?”

“How about I go with you instead?”

++++

With my eyes closed, I sucked the moist air into my lungs. After the long winter, seeing the fresh green and being out on horseback was good. Being on the road with Adam was different, but it was better than canceling the trip outright. I wouldn’t complain. Hoss, lying in bed or on the settee with a wet, cool rag on his knee, was to be pitied.

I looked over my shoulder at the black-clad figure in the tan coat behind me. Then I pointed ahead. “Adam, why don’t we ride over the pass and have a look at the next valley?”

“I’m for going back, Joe. You’ve already said three times today that you want to explore the next valley and ridge. ”

Adam was in a bad mood for some reason, which I could tell by the tightness of his shoulders and pinched lips. I assumed his back hurt from sleeping on hard ground for two nights, or he was annoyed we hadn’t shot any game. But I was determined not to let it spoil our trip. His spirits would improve if we had some beans and bacon by the fire tonight, or maybe even a rabbit or venison.

We’d had a snowy winter. Even now, in mid-March, there were still patches of snow three feet deep on the northern slopes and temperatures barely topping 50 degrees. Riding east, hoping to bag some antelope or mountain sheep, we’d come to the area north of Walker Lake. The landscape resembled our ranch, mountainous with partly wooded slopes interspersed with dry, desert-like sections with waist-high brush and rocks. The wet meadows in the river valleys showed signs of growth, and we found tracks and droppings of sheep.

“All right, let’s ride up this crest. If we don’t find any game, we’ll head home.” I urged Cochise forward. A cool wind blew, carrying the scent of freshness, spring, and spicy pines. Glad I had packed the sheepskin coat and my green jacket, I turned up my fur-lined collar.

Below us in the valley, I spotted a dirty white patch. It stood out from the rest of the bright snowfields. Squinting, I leaned forward. “Adam! There’s a covered wagon!”

“One of the emigration wagon trains from the East must have left it behind. Maybe an axle is broken, or the oxen died.”

“Let’s go have a look!” My heart beat faster as I steered Cochise down the slippery slope. His hooves sank into the damp earth and came loose with a smacking sound. It was unlikely that the people left anything valuable, but it couldn’t hurt to satisfy my curiosity.

“Joe, be careful!” my brother’s warning sounded behind me, but I decided to ignore him. I knew cholera epidemics were common on these wagon trains and that it wasn’t wise to rifle through an abandoned vehicle, but I was intrigued to find out what had happened. It was like a dime novel, with detective Allan Pinkerton working out what happened from small pieces of evidence. Adam called it a trashy read, but I found it exciting and entertaining.

“Hey, look, here`s a grave!” I pulled Cochise to a stop and studied a small pile of stones amid sprouting grass. Judging by its size, a child or baby had been buried, and it appeared to be quite fresh, not more than a few weeks.

My excitement was gone, replaced by an uneasy feeling that tingled the back of my neck. Irritated, I sucked the air through my nose in short bursts. It smelled not only of melting snow, damp earth, and fresh grass. It didn’t take me long to identify. A musty smell of decay hung in the air, and it was dead quiet. Not a bird sang, not an insect could be heard. I urged Cochise forward, though I would have preferred to pull him around and run him off at a gallop. A tragedy had taken place, perhaps an attack.

A few yards ahead, I found the source of the stench. In a puddle of meltwater lay the remains of an ox, covered only by a layer of tough, gray-brown hide. A shiver ran down my spine like icy fingers. What on earth had happened here?

My brother came to a halt next to me. “Have you seen enough? That gives me the creeps. Let’s get out of here.”

I raised my eyebrows at my rational brother’s comment, but it had the opposite effect on me. Now, I was in a hurry to find out what the canvas concealed. “I’m going to inspect that wagon! If there are bodies inside, we should at least bury them properly.”

Next to the covered wagon was another cattle skeleton, but it looked like it had been cut up. Someone had taken the meat. I led Cooch to the back of the vehicle. The canvas was dirty and torn in places and looked to me like a shroud covering something terrible. It moved lazily in the wind and rustled like the whispering voices of people long gone. All four wheels were sunk in as if the muddy ground was determined to hold the wagon in place and not let go again. After taking a deep breath, I reached out. My fingertips hesitated, pausing just an inch from the tarp, then I grabbed it, yanked it aside with a jerk—and stared into two wide gray-blue eyes and a black gun muzzle.

“Heck!” I flinched, my heart pounding in my throat. This was the last thing I expected. Until I managed to calm Cooch down, he took a few nervous steps and snorted in irritation. Then I regained my voice. “Who are you?”

The gun barrel moved forward. To signal that I was no threat, I raised my hands. Behind me, I heard the sucking sound of Sport’s hooves from behind and Adam’s suspicious voice. “What’s going on, Joe?”

“There’s someone in the wagon,” I told my brother without moving.

The oval face of the person in front of me was so dirty that his age was only a guess. The man’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, and a muscle twitched in his cheek. He wore a greasy hat and heavy, worn leather clothes a few sizes too big for him. His forefinger trembled on the trigger, making my body tense in anticipation of a bullet. “Who are you?” His words sounded rough and hoarse, as if he hadn’t spoken to anyone in a long time.

“I’m Joe Cartwright. Over there is my brother Adam. We’re on a hunting trip.”

Adam, ignoring the rifle, steered Sport closer. The barrel was now pointed at his stomach. Careful not to get his hand near the revolver, he reined in his bay beside me and tapped his hat. “Howdy. We mean no harm. Do you need help?”

The rifle was lowered. It seemed that the man had decided to trust us. With stiff motions, he climbed out of the wagon. “I have lived alone for months. I’ve spent the winter here.”

“Wintered?” I dismounted and took a step forward. The smell hit me like a slap in the face, and I had to stop myself from grimacing. The man reeked of old sweat and smoke, and his hands were as dirty as his face. Under the chewed fingernails were black stains. “What happened?”

The blue eyes stared into the distance as he remembered, and I thought I saw moisture shimmering. “Last September, we set up camp here. We wanted to give our oxen a few days to rest to graze. We were exhausted from the long journey, and traveling through the mountains took its toll on the animals. My brother and my husband set out with their rifles—”

“Husband?” I interrupted, taking a closer look at him.

“I didn’t introduce myself. My manners fell by the wayside somewhere between here and New England. I’m Matilda Rikers.” The person removed her hat, a cascade of matted, dirty blonde hair falling down her back like an old shaggy rug.

My mouth dropped open. “You’ve been living in this wagon since September? Alone?”

“Ma’am, may I suggest we build a fire? We can cook coffee and bacon with beans. You must be starving!” Adam leaned forward, forearms on the saddle horn.

“Coffee? And beans? That sounds great!”

Annoyed that I hadn’t thought to offer her food, I looked around. “We need some firewood, but there doesn’t seem to be any around here.”

“I’ve used up all the burnable material in the last few months.”

“I’ll go and get some dry branches!”

While Adam steered Sport toward a wooded slope a couple of miles away, I unsaddled Cochise, laid the saddle blanket on a rock, and made an inviting gesture. “Come on, Mrs. Rikers, have a seat!”

The woman made a few hesitant steps and reached to place her hand on my forearm as if she wanted to make sure I was real by touching me. A sob broke from deep in her throat. “Oh my God! This isn’t a dream! I’m not alone anymore!” Tears streamed down her cheeks as if a floodgate had opened. She wrapped her arms around my waist and pressed her face into my jacket, crying like I’d never seen a woman cry. I held her close and tried to breathe through my mouth. Her clothes and hair were stiff with dirt and old grease.

With soothing, circular motions, I rubbed her back. I could only imagine how thin the woman was through the thick leather clothing. “Shh, you’re safe! Everything will be fine,” I said in a low, calm voice that I used for nervous animals.

As the tears and sobs shaking her frame subsided, I moved the lady away from me to study her face. She sniffed, wiping her nose and eyes with her sleeve, leaving pale streaks. “I’m … I’m sorry. All these months, I haven’t allowed myself to be weak. I’ve been working like a well-oiled wheel that simply turns and turns. It’s like dreaming, and I’m afraid to wake up and find that I’ve imagined all of this.”

“It’s okay. Crying can be a release. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Matilda clutched my jacket as if she feared I would vanish into thin air if she let go. I had seen people in stressful situations do what was necessary, only to collapse when the tension eased. It was as if a sledgehammer had knocked down a wall, and what was hidden behind it poured out into the open.

I  unclasped her fingers from the leather, took her hand, and led her to the blanket. “Come, sit down. Would you like some hardtack?”

She almost snatched the dry rusk from my hands, broke off a large piece, and stuffed it into her mouth. “Heavenly!” she mumbled, chewing as I sat beside her with a smile. It was nice to make someone so happy with so little. “Do you know how long it’s been since I ate something this good?”

I opened our cooking bag and took out a pot and our blue enamel pitcher. “There’ll be more in a minute. Here comes my brother with firewood. We soon can make coffee!”

 

Matilda closed her eyes and breathed in the aroma of the hot brew with both hands clasped around the mug. “‘Wonderful!” She sighed and sipped at the coffee. My eyes locked with Adam’s, and we grinned at her delighted expression.

Reaching for the bean and bacon pan at the same time, my hand collided with my brother’s, so eager were we to spoil the woman. Adam scooped the food onto a tin plate and pushed it into her hand while I handed her a spoon.

“Thank you!” Matilda began shoveling beans into her mouth. The bacon crunched as she took a bite, fat dripping down her chin, reminding me of a half-starved barn cat.

“Take it easy, lady!” I admonished, but it was unnecessary. After a few bites, she sat back and stroked her belly.

“Thanks for the food, but I’m not used to eating so much anymore.” Her gaze swept my holster, jacket, and face. Then she looked me in the eyes. “You guys are cowboys, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, our pa’s got a ranch called the Ponderosa about sixty miles west of here.”

“Ponderosa—that sounds nice. Harold, my husband, and brother Walter wanted to claim 160 acres of government land. Our idea was to build a house and start farming. People said go west. You can strike it rich. Of course, we knew the journey wouldn’t be easy. But none of us were prepared for the hardships.” The words poured out of Matilda.

I nodded, encouraging her to continue.

“We were told that the Indians had been cultivated by missionaries and were used to white people. They would help the emigrants cross the rivers and provide them with meat for a small fee. But we met a group of hostile braves. West of the Mississippi River on the Great Plains, they attacked us. They were primitive, filthy, half-naked savages dressed in nothing but loincloths and feathers. They killed most of our party. My brother and husband were left for dead. They grabbed a girl and me by the arms and dragged us away.”

Matilda put a fist to her mouth in a shudder. Tears welled up in her eyes. I wrapped an arm around her shoulder. As Matilda clung to me, shaking with sobs, Adam and I exchanged knowing glances. We had a good idea of what had happened. Everyone knew what women captured by the Indians went through, but hardly anyone talked about it. Those affected would only say that they had experienced things worse than death.

“You don’t need to continue,” I said in a low voice.

The woman shook her head. “I have to tell.” Intertwining her fingers, Matilda took a deep breath.

“It was a small band of Indians. They had scary color-smeared faces. They brought me and the girl into their camp and … you know. They took turns. My God, the girl, Susanna, screamed so much. She was just a child, not fourteen. Sometimes, I wake up at night and still hear her yells. The girl was close to madness.”

“While having their way with us, the Indians helped themselves to our supply of alcohol. At some point, they were so drunk that I dragged Susanna to her feet. We gathered up the shreds of our torn dresses and stumbled through the darkness until we came upon the covered wagons. It was pure luck that we didn’t get lost. But the girl was severely hurt … she was bleeding. She died.”

Her pain and despair made my chest tighten. I rubbed Matilda’s fragile back, wanting to protect and comfort her. “It’s not your fault. There was nothing you could have done!”

“Harold and Walter were injured but alive. We struck our oxen with a stick to get away as fast as possible. From then on, we three were on our own.”

The thought of what she had been through in the last few months closed my throat. What do you say in a situation like this? ‘Everything will be okay? I’m sorry?’ It was no surprise she had a sort of hysteric collapse.

“I know there was nothing I could have done to help Susanna, but it wasn’t fair I survived, and she didn’t.” With the back of her hand, Matilda wiped her nose. I took my handkerchief from my pocket and handed it.

“Thank you, Joe!” Dabbing her eyes, she leaned against me with a deep sigh. “I’m not a woman who cries all the time. I haven’t allowed myself to be weak once in the last six months. I don’t know why …” her voice trailed off.

Adam, who had been sipping coffee as he listened, cleared his throat. “How would you like to come to the Ponderosa with us? Our cook could serve you some decent meals, and you can figure out what to do next.”

“You would take me with you?” She moved away from me, her eyes narrowing and darting back and forth between me and my brother. “What do you expect in return for your charity?”

“We don’t ask for anything. We call it neighborly help out here, and it`s a matter of course.”

Adam got to his feet. “Little Joe’s right, but we should leave before it gets dark and find a place with enough firewood for our overnight camp. You want to pack and take something from the wagon, Matilda?”

She stood and straightened her shoulders. “Yes. I’ll take anything we can carry and what’s of value. It’s not much anyway.”

 

Our camp for the night was a sheltered spot on a slope between some rocks where the ground was dry. Spicy-scented pine trees surrounded us like protective palisades, standing out in a rich green against the darkening evening sky. Adam had built a fire and put on the coffee. Matilda stood near the flames and seemed uncomfortable as she shifted from one foot to another.

“What’s the matter? Sit down!”

“Is it possible to heat some water? I want to wash up and change my clothes. I’ve even got a bar of homemade soap.” As if she had realized how she must appear to us, she looked down at herself with an embarrassed grimace, trying to rub a stain from her pants.

I jumped up, eager to do something to help the woman, and annoyed I hadn’t thought to offer hot water. “Of course! But we only have a small pot.”

“I can make do with that.”

Once the water was heated, Matilda retreated behind a rock with her bundle while Adam and I sat by the fire with our backs to her, giving her privacy.

“The wagon offered no protection against the cold. How did she make it through the winter all by herself?” I asked in a low voice, rubbing my neck.

“A short distance from the wagon, I saw a dwelling. She had cut sod, stacked it on top of each other, and stretched canvas over it. When the snow melted, she must have moved back into the vehicle because the ground got wet.

“What do you think happened to her husband and brother? Should we try to find them?”

“Indian raid or a hunting accident. Or they got lost. But it happened half a year ago if what the woman says is true. It’s unlikely that we’ll find anything.”

Nodding, I stared into the flames, poking the embers with a stick. There were hundreds of ways to die out here in the West. Life was brutal and relentless, and one mistake could suffice.

“A few days’ rest on the ponderosa and some good meals will do her good. And a bath!”

“Yeah, but we have to …”

I would never know what Adam was trying to say. Matilda stepped out from behind the granite boulder. Had I not known that she’d been the creature in the stained, stiff leather outfit, I wouldn’t have recognized her. She wore a worn but clean blue dress and heavy boots. Her washed hair was twisted into a dripping plait of dark blonde. She curved her mouth into an embarrassed smile, brushing a wet strand from her face.

“Now, I feel human again,” she said with a sigh and plopped down on the horse blanket beside me. Adam and I noticed her shivering and jumped up at the same time. Faster than my brother, I unrolled my bedding and draped it over her shoulders while Adam added a few more branches to the fire.

“You’re cold!”

I noticed her thin wrists and her gaunt, sunken face. Her eyes were red from weeping, and her skin, scrubbed hard to remove the dirt, was rosy. She pressed her lips together, and the flickering flames deepened the worry lines on her brow and around the corners of her mouth.

Matilda was about in her mid-twenties, I guessed, but she might have looked older than she was. She had a prominent nose, but when she smiled, her eyes sparkled like a lake reflecting the sun, and the glow that crossed her face made her look pretty.

 

Matilda

I heard the calm, even breathing of the men sleeping beside me. Their confident, relaxed manner made me feel safe for the first time in month. I was no longer alone! My belly was full. Thank God, two decent men found me. I couldn’t imagine if they were outlaws or Indians. A woman alone did not stand a chance here.

Oh my, I still squirmed with shame when I remembered my emotional outburst this afternoon. Seeing humans after so long had been a shock at first. They must have considered me a hysterical, whining crybaby! Men out here in the West had no use for a woman who would burst into tears at the first opportunity. I didn’t want pitying looks, so I had to get a grip on myself.

My hair was still damp, but the itch that plagued me all winter was gone. Trembling, I wrapped the bedroll closer around my shoulders. Thin as I was, I didn’t have much to offer against the cold. Once well padded, the bones of my hips pressed against the hard floor, although Joe’s fur-lined sheepskin coat, which he had lent me, made a good cushion.

Careful not to disturb him, I pulled my bedding closer to the young man, almost touching him. He stirred but didn’t wake up. He lay with his head on the underside of his saddle, hat draped over his face, hands clasped over his stomach.

I had noticed how the brothers tried to pamper me, almost like they were competing with each other. They were so different! Adam seemed practical, sensible, responsible, and serious, while Joe reminded me of my husband. Harold, with his unruly sand-colored hair, had always been funny and adventurous. I wondered what had happened to him and Walter. For days last September, I’d searched the area, hoping to find them, praying they would return.

I wiped my eyes, which became moist again. I had to concentrate on the future. My mama always told me to look ahead. ‘Every sunrise is a chance to improve your life. Don’t cry over the past because it’s gone.’ Oh yes, Mother had many such sayings, but most of them were true.

When I heard an animal howling, my breath caught in my throat. Was it a wolf or just a coyote? I was a city girl, so I wasn’t familiar with it. “Joe!” I whispered, but he didn’t hear me. Should I shake him up? No. Probably, he’d roll his eyes and laugh at me.

My heartbeat slowed as the sounds didn’t get any closer and finally stopped. Everything was so wild and rough out here. The people, the animals, the rugged mountains.

Over the past few months, I have often wished we had stayed in New England. But Harold’s eyes were shining with talk of the West, of gold strikes in California, silver veins in Nevada, and miles and miles of fertile land. He was determined to try his luck here. My brother, who also had an adventurous spirit, had joined us. No one could have imagined it would end like this. The only survivor of the entire wagon train was me, Matilda Rikers, twenty-two years old and already a widow. But during the winter, I soon learned that feeling sorry for myself didn’t help or improve my situation one bit. If you wanted to change something, you had to take matters into your own hands.

As the painful and unwanted memory of how the Indians had taken advantage of me came rushing back to the surface, I put my palm over my mouth to stifle my whimper. I had no control over these moments.

A cool breeze brushed over my breasts as they laughed and tore off my clothes. The vain attempt to cover me amused the savages.

Rude fingers explored my body, pinching and squeezing, boring into me. Their hands were on my arms, wrestling me to the floor. My heart pounded so fast that I thought my chest would burst. A tall warrior reached into his crotch, pushing his loincloth aside.

I bit down on my fist until I tasted blood and pulled my legs close to my body as if the vivid images would bounce off me when I curled into a tight ball. But it didn’t work.

The redskins cheered. They had started drinking, and I could smell the alcohol. The one holding my wrists above my head leaned in close. The tips of his black hair brushed my bare skin, and his coal-black eyes showed no pity, only amusement and desire. His mouth stank and his skin was sticky from some kind of paste and the dust that clung to it.

I kicked at the man who spread my legs, which only incited him. He was cruel and ruthless and took what he wanted. The blows shook my whole body, and the pain made me howl and scream. I tasted bitter bile as it forced its way up my throat.

My body went limp as he withdrew, but the relief lasted only a moment, then came the realization that this was just the beginning. The next brave made a gesture to the one holding me. He turned me over until I lay on the belly. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my cheek against the moth-eaten, rancid fur on the tent’s floor.

Susanna’s crying beside me reached my ears but not my heart. Wrapped in a bubble of horror and unbearable agony, I had no sympathy for anyone else.

I yanked my eyes open and stared at the pale full moon above me, taking deep, slow breaths to calm myself. I had lied to Adam and Joe. It wasn’t Susanna’s screams that haunted me, but what those brutes had done to me. It was easier for me to talk about the girl than my emotions.

Gritting my teeth until my jaw hurt, I forced the feelings and thoughts raging inside me like a storm into a corner of my mind, hoping they would stay there.

‘You are a strong girl,’ Mama had assured me. I held on to that thought. I could get over it. After all, I wasn’t the first woman who’d experienced this.

I lay awake for a long time. Feeling Joe’s warmth against my back made me cuddle up with a contented sigh. He moved as if he felt my closeness and turned sideways, his hand brushing my hip. I smiled, trying to pretend it was my beloved Harold’s gentle and loving touch. My body relaxed, allowing me to drift into a restful sleep.

 

By the time I woke up, it was already dawn. I could feel Harold snuggling up to me like two spoons in a drawer, with one familiar arm wrapped around my waist, and I sensed his soft, regular breath tickling the back of my neck.

Someone cleared his throat, and it wasn’t the man behind me. I snapped my lids open and looked into two mocking dark brown eyes.

Adam! The force of the memory hit me like a hammer blow. Harold was dead. I was alive and saved.

The body behind me began to stir, and the arm around the small of my back disappeared, leaving the spot empty and cold. Heat rose to my face as I sat up. One glance at Joe’s sleepy face and silly grin showed he was also embarrassed.  He avoided my gaze as he peeled off his bedclothes and stood. “Sorry, lady, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

 

The breakfast of hardtack and bacon was like a feast. I closed my eyes, let the rusk melt on my tongue, and washed it down with coffee. I sucked the bitter aroma deep into my lungs. The brew was strong and tasted good, although I preferred it sweet and with cream. The brothers’ amused glances rested on me, and I felt a blush creep across my cheeks, but I pretended not to notice how they studied my face. What did they think about me? I tried to force a grateful smile.

“You can’t imagine how good it feels to have human company again.”

Adam rubbed his chin, which was covered in dark stubble.  “No, lady, I don’t think anyone can imagine.”

Moving closer to the flames, I enjoyed the warmth on my toes. They had been as cold as ice all through the winter since the ground in my sod hut was drafty despite the fire.

“Let’s get started,” Joe said, rising to his feet. He stretched, yawned, and grabbed the saddle blanket. “We can make it back to the ranch today if we hurry. You can take a hot bath and sleep in a real bed, Matilda. How does that sound?”

“Just wonderful!”

 

Pinching my lower lip, I stood next to the pinto with a doubtful look on my face. I was glad I wore my brother’s pants, not my dress. Joe offered me his hand, already in the saddle. “You ride double with me. Put your left foot in the stirrup and swing up.”

The horse took a few quick steps as I plopped hard onto his back. A little scream escaped my lips, and I clawed my fingers into Joe’s green jacket. “I’ve never ridden before!”

Joe laughed. “It’s easy! Just hold onto me and try to swing with the horse!”

Even though it was one of those wide Western saddles, it was too narrow for two people. My pelvis slid against Joe’s backside with every step the mount took. I could feel him stiffen. Was he uncomfortable? Did he have a wife at home and perhaps children?

I pushed the thought aside. ‘Concentrate on the moment,’ Mama would have said. I laid my cheek against Joe’s back. He was warm and smelled good of horse and leather. Not like those half-naked redskins with their oily skin reeking of rancid grease and pungent pipe tobacco. It was wonderful not to be alone anymore and to have someone other than yourself to talk to. The corners of my mouth twisted into a happy smile.

Adam, who rode next to us, must have noticed my expression and gave me a searching glance. I couldn’t judge him yet. With his calm demeanor and black clothes, he was inaccessible.

“How did you survive alone for so long, Matilda?” His tone was inquisitive, like a doctor probing a wound, or was it just my imagination? “What did you eat?”

I straightened up so fast that I almost lost my balance. “Do you imply I’m lying?”

“No. I’m curious. I didn’t mean to suggest …”

Joe was a sensitive man and felt how the question upset me. He patted my hand, which rested on his waist, and turned to face me, his green-brown eyes shining with compassion. “Of course, we don’t think you’re lying. I admire how you’ve endured over half a year in the mountains. It must have been hell.”

I felt the need to defend myself. Lifting my chin, I flashed Adam a challenging look. “It was terrible. After realizing Harold and Walter wouldn’t return, the first snow fell and closed in the valley. I knew I couldn’t get further with the wagon until spring. I shot the fatter ox, cut it, and salted the meat. We had a sack of cornmeal, and I could make a kind of bread out of it, but sometime toward the end of the winter, I ran out of firewood and just mixed it with cold water and spooned it up. In the end, I had to eat the ox meat raw.”

The memory of the musty corn porridge, sticky and bland like paste, made me grimace and shudder. “I dug up some roots and rationed the bag of dried apples to get me through the winter. When the snow got deeper, the second ox starved to death.”

“You have no idea what happened to your husband and brother?” asked Joe.

“They disappeared without leaving a trace! I searched for Harold and Walter for one week, following their footprints until I lost them.”

“Adam found a sod hut. Is that where you lived?”

I looked at Adam, steering his mount through the now desert-like terrain, holding the reins in one hand. His riding seemed so easy and casual as if he and the horse were the same.

“Yes. It was a cold, dark place. Moving our iron stove from the wagon to this shelter took two days. I could heat and cook with it until I ran out of wood. Then I made a lamp from ox tallow with a wick of cloth. That provided a little light and warmth.”

“And no one came along? Sometimes, there are trappers and hunters in this area.”

“Twice, a group of Indians passed. I noticed them in time because many crows fed on the dead oxen. They warned me with their caws. I ran until my legs burned with pain, though I was weak from hunger. With my hands clutching my rifle, I crouched behind a rock. My teeth chattered with fear and cold. I thought they heard me. They ransacked the wagon and took some things but didn’t find me.”

“It’s unbelievable how you survived! Other women would have given up.”

I could hear the admiration in Joe’s voice. “To be honest, once or twice, I had thoughts of putting the gun to my head and pulling the trigger. It would have been so simple. A tiny movement with my forefinger and the whole misery would have been over.”

“What …?”

“There was a tiny spark of hope that Harold was still alive and would return. And I had a narrative with me. It was written by Mary Rowlandson, who had been held captive by Indians for weeks. She was a Puritan and very religious, giving her strength to hold on. She became a kind of friend during those long, lonely months. Harold scolded me for reading such a report, but it was written almost two hundred years before, and I didn’t think these savages existed anymore.”

“Most Indians now live in reservations, but their resistance is not entirely broken. There are still incidents like this.”

“A sort of eerie fascination made me read this story. I had no idea …” I fell silent, turning up the collar of Joe’s sheepskin coat I wore, inhaling the faint scent of man and wool.

“Later that winter, wolves came. They were huge, white ones. They ate the dead ox, and I could hear them fighting over the carcass and crushing the bones. The sounds made my hair stand on end! I crouched in my sod hut, clutching the rifle, thinking I was going to die of fear.”

“You’re safe now, Matilda. Try to forget the terrible things.”

My eyes fell on the revolver on Joe’s left hip. He only put it down to sleep. Having armed men around me who could defend themselves and me was a good feeling. “I’ll try.”

 

 

The ride was long and exhausting. At one point, I dozed off, and just as I was on the verge of a fall, I was caught by strong arms. “Careful, lady,” Adam said, grinning, showing a lovely dimple on his left cheek.

I rubbed my grainy eyes and face in embarrassment, feeling the imprint of Joe’s corduroy jacket on my cheek. God, what did I look like? Tired, disheveled, in men’s clothes. Would his family welcome me? Joe told me there was another brother, but the father was on a business trip in San Francisco. The idea of living in a household with four men—five if you counted the Chinese cook—made a woman wonder.

 

“We’ve arrived! This is our house! I hope you like it!” Joe turned to me with a smile and a twinkle in his eye, and I could see how proud he was. He had every reason to. The ranch was pretty large. We’d been riding about an hour and a half since crossing the border into the Ponderosa. There were hundreds of cattle grazing the freshly sprouted grass, mighty pine trees grew as tall as I’d ever seen them, and the air smelled spicy with resin and fertile earth. You could ride for miles without meeting a soul. Now, I could imagine why people would want to live in the West. Beyond the wildness, there was a breathtaking beauty.

Like a gentleman, Adam helped me off the horse. My legs almost gave way, and I felt tearing pains in my thighs in places I hadn’t thought possible. Offering his arm, he walked me to the house. I was surprised, not expecting anything like that. For a cowboy, he had excellent manners. I knew from tales that most of them were down-and-out, cursing, whiskey-drinking guys.

The door flew open, and a massive man in a white shirt and brown leather vest burst out. His eyes were bright blue, and he frowned in surprise at the sight of me, his mouth agape.

“May I introduce you? This is our brother Hoss. Hoss, this is Mrs. Matilda Rikers. We picked her up out on the trail. She’ll be staying with us for a few days.”

He looked at me, and a warm smile brightened his broad face. “Welcome to the Ponderosa, Mrs. Matilda! It’s usually me that brings home strays and lost souls!”

Hoss? What a strange name, I thought, shaking his large hand. He blushed, shoved his fingers into his pockets, and glanced at Joe. “No luck on the hunt, little brother?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

Adam pulled me along with him. “You must be tired, Matilda. I’ll show you to the guestroom. Hoss, can you bring her stuff? It’s tied up in that bag behind my saddle.”

“Sure!”

++++

After a night in the soft, clean bed, surrounded by protective walls instead of canvas, I felt fresh and rested. The guest room off the kitchen was old-fashioned but nicely decorated, with heavy floral curtains and a cozy upholstered chair.

Standing in front of the mirror at the washstand, I struggled to pull the brush through the knots in my locks. My scalp hurt, and I made a face. Maybe I should ask Hop Sing for scissors and cut everything to shoulder length. Still, my hair was what I liked best.

In the reflection, I saw a strange-looking face. I felt my sunken cheeks and noticed the dark circles under my eyes and deep lines around my mouth. I had never been what people called ‘pretty.’ My nose was too big, and my lips were too thin.

Frustrated, I tossed the brush aside and grabbed a ribbon to tie my hair back. I will do the rest later. I could hear the Cartwrights’ voices and clattering dishes. My hosts had a rustic but large ranch house, and I had seen at first glance that no women lived there. The main room was dark but comfortable, and the massive furniture and gold picture frames proved that the Cartwrights were rich. They could afford to feed one more mouth, so I shouldn’t worry about being a burden to them. It would only be for a few days.

Sighing, I pinched my cheeks until they reddened, put on a smile, and stepped up to the breakfast table. With a loud clatter of stool legs, the Cartwright brothers stood up as I joined them and moved my chair for me. The boys had manners and had been brought up well. I felt overwhelmed by three young men determined to outdo each other by handing me coffee, eggs, bacon, and fresh biscuits.

“Did you sleep well?” asked Adam, dabbing his mouth with a cloth napkin.

“Yes, thank you.” I was glad for a night without nightmares that made me wake up screaming with a racing pulse and a sticky film of sweat on my skin.

“It’s weird getting so much attention,” I muttered, lowering my eyes to the plate, embarrassed to be the center. At the sight of all that delicious food, saliva gathered in my mouth. “Pancakes with syrup! I haven’t eaten anything sweet in months, and I love sweets! Joe, you weren’t exaggerating when you raved about your employee’s cooking skills. He seems determined to fatten and pamper me!”

Joe let out a giggle. “Hop Sing loves to show off his cooking. He’ll run you a hot bath afterward. And then you can take it easy for the rest of the day. You can go for a walk around the house.”

Adam tossed the napkin and pushed back the chair. “Work is calling! Come on, brothers. We’ve got a ranch to run.”

Adam and Hoss had already disappeared outside when Joe was the last to go to the credenza, where he strapped the gunbelt around his slender waist. I pretended to watch the grandfather clock to avoid staring at him. He was a handsome young man, and my pulse quickened. He attracted me, but maybe it was because he rescued me. I hardly knew him, and as Harold had only been dead for six months, it was inappropriate to have such feelings. But life went on, didn’t it? One more of my mother’s sayings.

“See you tonight!” Joe buttoned up his jacket and adjusted his hat.

A rush of panic ran through me. “Tonight? You’ll be gone all day?”

Joe, noticing my expression, took my hands in his. “Hey, don’t worry. You’re safe at the Ponderosa. I thought we made it clear that we had to go to the herd. The calves are born between February and April. We must ensure no mountain lions or wolves are in the area. But you won’t be alone. Hop Sing’s here.”

I bit my lower lip. I would have loved to spend the day with Joe and get to know him better, and to be honest, the thought of being left behind made me uncomfortable. What if Joe, like my husband and brother, didn’t return? What if something happened to him?

“You must understand, Matilda, This is a working ranch. Especially in spring, we’re busy from sunup to sundown. I’m sorry, none of us can stay here. Get some rest. You can ride with us to the herd in the next few days when you have recovered.”

Pull yourself together. Men don’t like whiny women clinging to them. I lifted my chin, squared my shoulders, and smiled at Joe. “Yes, I’d like to, although I haven’t done much riding. But don’t worry, I won’t get bored. I’ll be all right.”

 

After the three brothers had left, I walked around the yard to explore my temporary home. I had been so tired last night that I hadn’t paid much attention to my surroundings. Turning my face to the morning sun, I let the rays warm my cheeks.

“Bath ready, Mrs. Matilda!” came the eager voice of the Chinese cook. “While you in tub, Hop Sing wash your dress.”

 

Grinning, I rolled up the shirt’s sleeves. It was one of Joe’s and way too big for me. The pants fit pretty well, except for the length, but I still made a weird picture. My dress flapped on the clothesline.

The rocking chair on the porch creaked as I sat down. I pulled a blanket over my legs and closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling of the soft, clean clothes on my body, the faint smell of soap, and my full stomach.

 

The sound of loud metallic hammering jolted me awake. A wave of heat surged through my veins, and my pulse began to race as I fumbled for my weapon. When I couldn’t find it, panic constricted my throat. Then I remembered where I was. You’re safe!

I stood and walked to the barn, putting a hand on my chest to steady my heart. Joe wore a leather apron, sleeves rolled up, hammering a horseshoe into shape on an anvil. It hissed, and steam rose as he cooled it. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead. His shirt was half open, revealing his smooth chest.

As I approached him, he looked up and grinned. “I didn’t want to wake you. You were sound asleep. My horse lost a shoe, so I’m back already.”

“Can I watch?”

“Sure.”

I stepped beside the pinto and ran my fingers through his mane. “That’s one beautiful horse.”

“Yeah, he’s the best! He’s fast and smart!” Joe lifted the mount’s hind foot and wedged it between his thighs. “Let’s see if it fits. Hoss is better at shoeing horses. He usually does it. Would you mind handing me those nails, please?”

I stood close to Joe, smelling his sweat and feeling the warmth he radiated, or was it the forge of glowing coals driving heat into my face? I admired his muscles flexing as he nailed the horseshoe and watched the moisture trickle down his temple. My mouth became dry. Joe straightened up and placed the hoove on the ground. Then he gave me a strange look. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Yes, just a little … um … woozy.”

“You should rest!”

“Maybe I got up too fast. Don’t worry, I’m not made of porcelain.”

++++

The next few days were monotonous, but that was all right. I was content to eat three regular meals and rest, feeling my joy of life and the strength and power I always had return.

The other day at dinner, when Joe hadn’t done a chore to Adam’s satisfaction, he scolded his little brother. “Everybody has to do his share, Joe!”

Adam’s words struck me. Had he meant me? Did he think I took advantage of their hospitality?

 

“Hop Sing, I want to make myself useful!” I stood in the kitchen, looking over the pump, copper pots, cutting boards, and a bowl of sweet potatoes.

“You guest! Don’t do any work!” the cook scolded, his fists on his hips.

“I won’t sit around all day being served. Give me something to do. Otherwise, I’ll go outside and chop wood!” Determined not to give in, I crossed my arms over my chest.

With a grumble, Hop Sing finally agreed, pushing the potatoes to me for peeling. I stifled a triumphant grin. This round was mine.

 

Even though I was allowed to help him cut vegetables, knead dough, and collect eggs, I had plenty of free time.

Adam had lent me a book, and I could spend hours on the porch reading, lost in another world. It was about a whaler and a white sperm whale, which fascinated me. With a shudder, I skipped over the passages with the harpooner Queequeg, a cannibal, because he reminded me too much of the naked savages of the Great Plains.

When I finished the book, I closed it, stood up, and stretched. I tiptoed into the living room. The clatter of pots and pans told me the cook was busy preparing supper. I knew I had no business going upstairs. There were the Cartwrights’ bedrooms. If Hop Sing caught me, I would claim Adam had allowed me to borrow a new book.

Holding my breath, I opened one door. I knew it wasn’t right to pry, but I was curious to learn more about my hosts. To the right was a shelf containing items such as a ship in a bottle, an ornate wooden box, and some dime novels. The painting of a fierce-looking Indian made me cringe. Who would hang such a scary portrait on his wall? I liked the picture of the sailing ship better.

A half-braided leather cord, a hairbrush, and a photograph of a beautiful woman with delicate features that resembled Joe’s sat on a polished wooden dresser. It seemed I had landed in his room and that this woman was his mother. Was she already dead?

My fingers ran over the smooth, shiny surface of the desk. A half-finished wooden horse lay next to a carving knife and folded paper. As I picked it up, a faint whiff of perfume wafted toward me.

Dear Joe, our picnic last Sunday was wonderful, and I would have liked to spend more time with you, but my father has decided that we will be moving back to San Francisco …

Since the date on the letter was several weeks old, I lost interest. One wrinkled, used shirt and single sock hung over the back of the desk chair, and two dusty boots lay on the floor. I sat down on the neatly made bed and stroked the pillow. Underneath, I found a white and gray striped nightgown. With a smile, I pressed it to my face. Joe’s masculine, tangy scent caught my nose, and the memory of my husband hit me like the blow of a hammer. I wiped away the tears that filled my eyes. I was tired of being alone.

Sighing, I got up and opened some drawers. The pink faded long johns made me giggle, and I tried to imagine a grown man in them. I found bedclothes, clean shirts, a card game, and a flat, half-full whiskey bottle. Using my teeth, I removed the tight cork and took a deep swig. The alcohol burned like fire in my throat and all the way down to my stomach. I put my hand over my mouth to stop coughing and panting. How could anyone drink this stuff?

I listened in the hallway, but the house was quiet. My belly, already accustomed to three regular meals a day, rumbled with the smell of freshly baked bread and roast beef. Dinner would soon be served, but I still had time to explore another room.

This one was no less exciting. A guitar stood in the corner, so this had to be Adam’s room. The last few evenings, when he played the instrument and sang along, I loved it. That’s how I imagined the Wild West. Cowboys are sitting around a campfire playing the guitar. Well, we sat in front of the fireplace in the house, but it was still romantic.

I ran my finger over the countless book spines on one of the shelves, moving my lips as I deciphered the titles and authors. Cooper, Shakespeare, Dickens, Malory. Adam was an educated man. Didn’t he mention something about a college in the East?

On a drawing board, I found a scroll with architectural plans of buildings, a bridge, and a windmill. I strolled to the washstand, opened a turquoise glass bottle, and sniffed. A tart scent of cologne wafted up to me. I slid my fingers over the shaving soap, inspected the razor, and walked to the closet. Most of the clothes were black except for two white shirts for formal occasions and a beige, fur-lined winter coat.

The chair creaked as I sat down. I looked through the window into the courtyard. The sun was already low, and the brothers would be back before long.

I had to think about what to do with my life. What advice would Mama have given me? She would have said, ” Find someone to look after you!”

A new husband! The idea made me smile. It was perfect! I had a choice of three men here! The hardest part would be picking one. I would take a walk before supper. Movement always helped me to organize my thoughts or get new ideas.

 

With my eyes fixed on the horses in the corral, I strolled around the yard, stopping at the pen and reaching out to stroke the nose of the palomino. In my mama’s opinion, love wasn’t necessary in marriage. She said you get used to each other and come to terms. Many people felt the same way, and I knew weddings were often about security, tradition, and family upholding. No, love was not the issue.

The thought of Harold brought tears to my eyes. I’d loved him, but he was gone. I had to move on and come up with a plan. Regarding age, Joe was the best fit and was funny and good-looking. I figured it wouldn’t be hard to wrap him around my finger.

Lost in thoughts, I wound a golden strand of mane around my hand. The mare’s eyes were half closed, and her lower lip hung relaxed.

Adam was polite and reserved, and Hoss had a big heart and seemed shy around women. Of course, I didn’t know if one of the Cartwrights had a steady girlfriend, but none had mentioned one. I would try to find out and concentrate on Joe for now. As far as I could tell, I wouldn’t have any significant problems with him.

Frowning, I looked down at my threadbare, worn, patched calico dress. I had to buy something nice to wear. To get a man’s attention, a woman had to spruce up. I was in desperate need of a ride to town. Perhaps I could borrow a buggy.

 

Joe

The four of us sat for supper. Hop Sing had prepared roast beef, sweet potatoes, and peas. Watching Matilda fill her plate with such appetite, I stifled a grin. Our cook’s efforts were beginning to show, for I thought her face looked less thin, and some of the worry lines had smoothed. She appeared younger. When Hoss gave me a kick under the table that made me jump, I realized I had been staring.

Matilda’s gray-blue eyes met mine. She frowned. “What’s the matter?”

“I just thought Hop Sing’s cooking was good for you.”

“If he keeps fattening me up like this, soon I won’t fit into this dress. Speaking of dresses … you mentioned there was a town nearby?”

“Yeah, Virginia City, about twenty miles away.”

“Is it possible … I mean, can I borrow a buckboard and go there? I need a few things.”

I could have slapped myself. Neither of us had considered that a woman might need more than just a spare shirt and a hairbrush. “Oh, I’m sorry. We’re not used to female company on the Ponderosa. I’ll take you to town tomorrow first thing in the morning.”

“You are driving her to town, Little Joe? I’m the one who decides who goes where until Pa gets back here,” Adam threw in.

“I should go. My knee where the bay kicked me is still swollen! A day off would do me good,” Hoss interjected, rubbing the sore joint to make his point.

“We’ll do it the usual way.” Adam pushed the chair back and stood up to get some matches. “The lot will decide who accompanies Matilda into town. The others have to check on the livestock.”

I winked at the woman, who pressed her hand to her lips, watching our banter with an amused twinkle in her eyes.

++++

Grinning in triumph, I hitched up the buckboard the following day while my brothers saddled their horses with faces that looked like they’d bitten into a lemon.

“You seemed so confident last night, Joe, like you knew you’d win?” Matilda stood beside me and watched me fasten the buckles of the tack.

“Yeah. Hoss hadn’t noticed that Adam and I used to wet our matches, so they burned more slowly. And Adam didn’t figure out if you hold it with your nails, the flame doesn’t burn your fingers.”

Even Adam’s caustic words didn’t affect my good mood. “Don’t dawdle in town. When you return, I want you to cut firewood for Hop Sing, replace the rotten spokes of the wagon wheel, and check on the horse with the injured leg. The joint is still hot and needs regular cooling. You got that?”

I rolled my eyes and saluted. “Yes, sir.”

“A bit more respect, boy!”

 

Hours later, when Matilda hovered out of the clothing store, I almost didn’t recognize her. She wore a light blue dress with white polka dots and lace at the neckline that matched her blonde hair pulled back. On her head was a tiny hat in the same color, decorated with bows, flowers, and small feathers. Miss Sue from the millinery store had no doubt advised her on the latest fashions. It had taken about three hours, and finishing all the chores Adam had given me before dinner would be tight. But that wasn’t my fault this time. After all, we couldn’t expect Matilda to manage with just one dress.

My compliment was sincere. “You look pretty!”

“Do you think so?” She beamed, cheeks flushed, and adjusted her hat.

“Sure do!” I offered her my arm. “We are going to see the sheriff so he can take a report. He likes to know what happens in the county.”

“To the sheriff? But I … Must we?”

“You needn’t be afraid. Roy Coffee is a nice man. It’ll be enough if you give him a summary of the incident. And you have nothing to hide, right?”

“What? No, of course not.”

I felt that Matilda was hiding something and wasn’t telling the whole truth, but she had dismissed my question, so I decided not to probe further. Pulling the reluctant woman with me, I crossed the street with firm steps.

 

While she told Roy about the past few months in a halting voice, I studied the wanted posters on the wall. Then, I turned my attention to the sheriff, who concentrated on writing his report. From time to time, he paused, chewed on his pencil, or stroked his mustache. The floorboards creaked as I paced, which earned me an annoyed sideways glance from Roy. He put down his pen with a sigh.

“Impatient, Little Joe?”

“Plenty of work waiting.”

“I’ve recorded everything alright. It’s good to know in case someone finds the wagon. You’re staying at the Ponderosa for now, Mrs. Rikers?”

Matilda looked in my direction and nodded.

“The Cartwrights are respectable people. You were lucky, lady, that they ran into you rather than some outlaws.”

“Yes, I know.” Matilda stood up, her expression relieved. “Thank you, Sheriff.”

 

Out on the main road, I took her hand to help her onto the buckboard and shook the team up. Leaving Virginia City behind, I sucked in a deep breath. Something burned in my heart that I had long wanted to know, and now seemed like the perfect opportunity.

“Do you mind if I ask a personal question?”

“No, of course not.”

“I don’t want to offend you, Matilda, but we found a small grave. Did you have a child?”

She froze. Her face became a rigid, forbidding mask, and I could see her discomfort. When I reached out and took her hand, she felt tense as a spring. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer. It was rude to ask so directly.”

Her voice was cold and toneless as if her thoughts were far away. “It died. I don’t want to talk about it.”

The silence between us was awkward. You’re an idiot, Joe Cartwright, I scolded myself. If only I’d kept my mouth shut and my curiosity in check. I slapped the horses’ reins and spurred them into a brisk trot. “We’d better hurry. I got chores to do before supper!”

 

It was early afternoon when I drove the buckboard into the yard and stopped in front of the barn. I helped Matilda off the seat and started to unharness the team. “You can ask Hop Sing to fix a sandwich if you’re hungry. I must stable the horses first.”

“No, I’m all right. I would like to watch. I want to help out on the ranch and learn how everything works!”

I put my hand on her arm. “Matilda, you are our guest, and besides, females don’t do any ranch work. I know you’re a strong woman, but branding, horseshoeing, and roundups are not tasks for you.”

Matilda’s lips tightened. Did my words hurt her? Nevertheless, she stuck to me like a bee buzzing around a honey jar. I noticed how she wiped her hands on her dress with a nervous gesture and chewed on her lower lip. She looked pensive. What was she up to? Maybe she wasn’t in the mood to be alone. No doubt her nerves were frayed from the long time she had spent in those horrible conditions.

While brushing the horses the woman’s tension spread to me, and I found myself babbling to fill the silence. “Our horses get oats after work,” I explained. “Before a cowboy takes care of himself, the animals are groomed and fed first. We check their hooves and legs, and if they’re lathered, we rub them down.”

“Joe!” The hand on my back made me pause. I turned around, eyebrows raised in question. “Were you really serious when you said I was pretty?”

“Uh, yeah. The dress suits you. It goes well with your hair.”

“Kiss me, Joe!” She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me close. I placed my hands on her waist and breathed a quick kiss onto her forehead.

“Not like that! Kiss me properly!”

I took a step back, but she followed me, pressing her body close to mine until I was pinned against the solid wall. Then she planted her lips on mine. They were soft as silk. The currycomb slipped from my fingers and clattered to the floor.

“Matilda, we shouldn’t do this,” I murmured, trying to pull away.

Reaching up, she plucked the pins from her hair and shook her head. Her locks spilled over her shoulders, yellow like freshly harvested corn. She tugged at my shirttails until they slipped out of my pants and laid her hands on my bare skin.

“What are you doing?” I tried to grab her wrists and move her away, but she shoved her body against mine and began stroking my back. My nose filled with the scent of rose oil, sweet and beguiling. Her touch made me suck in a sharp breath. I felt myself getting hard as my hot blood rushed into my groin. “Matilda, that’s not right!” I murmured into her hair, which tickled my face.

“You want it too, Joe. I can feel how excited you are!” Her voice sounded breathless. Soft hands slid down and kneaded my butt. “Since I first saw you, I wanted you!”

My fingers rose without my will and buried themselves in Matilda’s thick locks. “You feel gratitude. That’s not love!” I whispered, realizing my resistance was on the verge of crumble.

“Don’t tell me how I feel! We are adults. If we both want it, what’s wrong?”

As she began to unbuckle my holster, I groaned. “The ranchhands!”

“You said they were with the herd.”

I ran out of arguments. The gun belt hit the barn floor with a thud. “Oh, darn!” With a hoarse sound, I leaned down to cradle her face in my hands and kiss her hard. She took my lower lip and sucked it in between her teeth. I slid my tongue into her mouth. It was incredibly soft and wet, making my heart beat in a fast drum roll. Of course, it didn’t help that I hadn’t been with a girl for a while.

The thought of Pa flashed through my mind. What would he say if he knew what we did? He would be disappointed and give me a lecture on decency and firmness.

I made another half-hearted attempt to stop it, but deep down, I knew what would happen. “This is wrong. My father would have my hide if he saw us here. He taught us to respect …”

“Joe, you’re a grown man! Do you always do what your father says?”

She started unbuttoning my pants. My member throbbed hot, demanding to be released. I tilted my head back and gasped in pleasure as a slender hand slipped into my fly. Cupping Matilda’s fabric-covered breasts, small and firm, I began to knead them. She closed her eyes and moaned. As I started to undo the tiny buttons of her dress, I pushed all thoughts of Pa far away.

Matilda glanced around, then led me to a pile of hay. As I sank backward into the fragrant dried grass, I knew there was no turning back.

My inhibitions fell, and with them, my pants. They slipped over my knees, and I kicked them aside along with my boots. With Matilda tugging at the sleeves, I pulled my jacket over my shoulders. Dressed only in my shirt, I lay in the hay, the woman’s gaze wandering over my body. Matilda’s serious expression puzzled me, but then she dropped beside me.

Determined, I grabbed her, flipping her onto her back. Hay and cloth rustled as I struggled with her countless skirts and petticoats.

The last buttons popped open. With trembling fingers, I peeled Matilda from her polka-dot dress. It landed in a crumpled heap on the floor next to my trousers, followed by her undergarments. Out of breath, I ran my hand along the stockinged outline of her long, smooth legs all the way to her garters. Matilda arched her back and thrust her hips toward me. The tight corset accentuated her breasts and slim waist. “So soft!” I murmured, stroking her inner thighs. My fingers moved higher, and when I felt her wetness, I began stroking her in soft circles. The desire to dive into her was almost unbearable. My mouth went dry. I became even more aroused when Matilda made little gasping noises.

“Joe, please,” she begged, squirming beneath me. I knelt between her spread legs, grabbed her butt, round and firm as a peach, and lifted her hips. Matilda’s pink mouth formed a circle as I penetrated her. Her arms flew up to grab a beam. Squeezing her eyes shut, she whimpered and turned her head to the side. Her body and breasts bounced in time with my thrusts.

I was about to burst. All my nerves were on edge, and my senses were heightened. I felt sweat trickle down my temple, heard the crackle of haystacks pricking my knees, and tasted the wild scent of sex on my tongue. The woman beneath me tensed up. My arousal was like a blazing flame that rose higher and higher until it engulfed me. As the passionate fire coursed through my veins, my body shattered into countless pieces.

Satisfied and exhausted, I withdrew and let myself fall beside the Matilda. My chest rose and fell in time as the air dried my sweaty chest.

 

“Joe, wake up!” a voice whispered next to my ear, and a hand shook my shoulder. “Hurry! Someone’s coming!”

My eyes fluttered open. I must have dozed off. Groaning, I sat up, grabbed my pants, and yanked them over my legs, the horses staring at me with their clear, dark eyes. What the hell had we done? I had allowed myself to get carried away. I liked Matilda but hadn’t intended to make it more than a friendship.

After buttoning up my shirt, I put on my jacket. Matilda, already dressed, stood beside me, frowning. “You are not sorry for what we did? I could see how much you wanted me.”

“It wasn’t right. You’re a guest at the Ponderosa, and I took advantage of that.”

My brothers’ voices and the sound of hooves could be heard outside.  Heck, Adam could read me pretty well! I absently plucked a stalk from Matilda’s hair.

“Are you angry with me, Joe?” The strange sound of her voice made me look closer. Had she cried? She had reddened eyes. Did I miss something?

“Matilda, what’s wrong? I haven’t hurt you, have I?”

Before she could respond, the barn door opened, and my oldest brother’s silhouette stood out in the bright yard. “Hey, Joe! Did you just come back from town?”

 

Matilda

Standing before the washstand in my room, I scrubbed the traces from my body, tears in my eyes. Joe hadn’t noticed I was pretending. After what had happened to me on the trip, how could I enjoy sex? I had even rejected my husband. He’d been understanding and wouldn’t pressure me into my marital duties. But sometimes, you must do what it takes to reach your goal.

Putting the cloth aside, I began drying. Goosebumps covered my body, and it wasn’t just the cold water. Lying on my back in the hay with Joe between my legs, had taken me back to the redskins’ filthy tent. To play along and not push him away from me or beat him with my fists had cost me everything.

Joe hadn’t hurt me; he was a gentle and experienced lover. He was attractive, and I wanted him to desire, protect, and hold me in his arms. Perhaps I would succeed in binding him to me that way. Would he grow into loving me or wasn’t I pretty enough? What worried me was how he’d reacted when he woke up. His annoyance and distant behavior had been apparent.

I leaned closer to the mirror and lifted the corners of my mouth into a fake smile. My blue eyes stared back, cold and expressionless, as tears dried on my cheeks.

I ran my fingers through my hair. It was thick and blonde, and its former glow had returned. My hair was the best part of me. Did Joe say I looked beautiful, or had he just talked about the dress? Trying to remember his exact words, I rubbed my temple, but in my head was nothing but emptiness.

Had I been too impatient and pushy? Should I have waited? So far, he hadn’t responded to my attempts at flirting, nor had he asked me to dance, even though I knew from Miss Sue at the dress store that there was a barn dance on Saturday.

 

As we sat down for dinner, my throat was tight. Adam’s gaze darted between me and his little brother. Crushing a potato on my plate, I lowered my head to hide the heat rising to my face. Earlier in the barn, he had no suspicions; surely he would have confronted Joe right away. What would happen if Adam found out? Joe was a grown man, and his brother wouldn’t meddle in his private life, would he?

Hoss didn’t seem to sense the tension at the table, working through his full plate with a satisfied expression, but I was aware of Joe’s shifting around in his chair. He felt as uncomfortable as I did, only I was better at hiding it.

I watched through my lashes as Adam pushed the plate away. He leaned forward, folding his hands on the tabletop.

“Joe, what’s wrong? I can see you’re poking around in your food.”

“Why do you ask?”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “Something is eating away at you. Was there trouble in town?”

“No, there was no trouble in town. Just leave me alone. I’m tired.”

“Tired, huh? I understand you wasted the whole day in Virginia City, and you’re tired? You think I haven’t noticed you haven’t done your chores?”

“Mind your own business, older brother. I’m turning in.”

Shaking his head, Adam eyed Joe, who hurried up the stairs two steps at a time, then turned to me. “Was there an argument, Matilda? I’ve known the boy for over twenty years. I can tell when something’s bothering him.”

I cut a piece from the roast on my plate and popped it into my mouth. “No. It was my fault that it took us so long in Virginia City. Miss Sue had to change the dress to make it fit. Maybe Joe got upset he had to wait.”

“Knowing Joe, he passed the time in the saloon. Probably, he got in trouble there.”

With a shrug, I tried spearing a pea with my fork.

“All right, then. Who knows what the boy has in mind? How about a game of checkers and a glass of brandy, Matilda?”

The dimple appeared as Adam shot me his charming smile. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he flirted. Having Joe out of the way might even be an advantage.

“I’d love to.” Unlike Joe, I wasn’t tired at all, and there was no harm in getting to know Adam better if his little brother rejected me.

 

Joe

I lay awake listening to the voices of Adam, Matilda, and Hoss, punctuated by occasional laughter. It sounded like they were having a great time. Sleep was out of the question. Later that night, Adam got out his guitar and played songs while the three sang along. My stomach burned with rage.

The fact that I was tired had been a lie. I was angry that I couldn’t control myself this afternoon, and I was mad at Adam and Hoss for enjoying themselves. My head knew it was childish to be jealous or feel left out. I wasn’t even in love with Matilda. But convincing myself that I didn’t mind she had fun with my brothers didn’t work.

Had she been following a plan in the barn, or was it just sex? I was under the impression that a wife would not want to be with a man after being raped, but of course, I could be wrong. No woman would talk about this, especially with a guy. Was she on the lookout for a new husband? Was she driven by safety or money? Would Matilda act so calculated?

I put my forearm to my eyes and groaned. What had I gotten myself into? Sometimes, I wished that my head would work a bit like my oldest brother’s and that I would think before I acted.

The day after tomorrow was Saturday, and my brothers and I were off to town for a dance. I had considered inviting Matilda and was glad I hadn’t. After what she had been through, I needed to be careful not to send the wrong signals. The last thing I wanted was hurting her.

Although we all enjoyed her company, living with us wasn’t a permanent solution. We had to get her a room in town; otherwise, people would soon start talking. Maybe I should speak with her about her plans for the future.

Without bothering to light the lamp, I got up and walked barefoot to my dresser, where I hid a bottle of whiskey for emergencies. A little nip would help me fall asleep. But the cork was loose, and the alcohol had long since drained and dried. Only the faint smell remained. With a sigh, I groped my way back to the bed.

++++

“Good morning, everyone!” Yawning, I went downstairs to join my brothers and Matilda. As Hoss saw my tired face, he poured me a cup of fresh, steaming coffee and pushed a bowl of scrambled eggs toward me without saying a word. Adam and Matilda gave me a curt “Morning,” then they put their heads back together over a book lying open on the table between them. They were in the middle of a discussion about the simplicity of life.

With a grin, Hoss formed the word “Thoreau” with his lips, making me roll my eyes. Adam and his philosophy!

“Apparently, he`d found someone who was interested in this stuff,” I whispered from behind my coffee cup.

The two pushed their chairs back. I noticed the glow on Matilda’s face and her flushed cheeks. Adam’s attention did her good, making her bloom like a wilted flower enjoying a spring shower.

Adam propped his palms on the table. “Today, I’m taking Matilda to the south pasture. I thought this gentle little palomino mare was good for a beginner. I want to see how the fence looks after the winter. You and Hoss head out to check on the livestock.”

“Yes, boss!” I mumbled, interrupted by Hop Sing, who hurried out of the kitchen and shoved a picnic basket covered with a red and white towel into my brother’s hand.

“Lunch, Mister Adam!”

“Riding fence, huh?” I said, receiving a slap on the back of my head in return.

“Mind your own business, Joe!”

Before the door closed behind them, I heard Mathilda laughing, clear and bright as a bell, accompanied by my brother’s deep, soft chuckle.

I grabbed a spoonful of scrambled eggs and biscuits and started to eat. “Anything going on between Adam and Matilda?” I asked, chewing.

“Want to know if he’s courting her? I dunno, Joe. I don’t think so. Matilda loves reading and music. They were just having a nice talk.” Hoss looked at me, frowning. “You’re jealous?”

“What? No!”

“C’mon Joe, don’t lie. You love Matilda?”

“I like her, but that’s all. I don’t mind if Adam woos her!”

“Whatever you say. Finish your eggs, I’ll saddle up, and we’ll be on our way.”

 

Tired and stiff, Hoss and I dismounted that evening. After tending to the horses, we brushed off our dusty clothes and went inside.

“Hello Matilda, how was your day?”

The woman closed the book and got up from the settee looking happy and relaxed. “Adam took me to Lake Tahoe. It was beautiful, lying deep blue among the hillsides covered with a green carpet of pine trees. It’s unbelievable that this whole area is yours! You really are to be envied.”

“Yeah, you can’t get enough of the view! We’re lucky to own such a great spread.”

“Adam invited me to go dancing tomorrow night.”

As if expecting a reaction, Matilda studied my face, a victorious smile curving her lips.

This came as a surprise. I clenched my jaw. “I have to wash up before dinner. See you later!” I turned my back and ran upstairs.

Did Matilda realize she had no chance with me and tried to get Adam on her hook? Or did she want to make me jealous? How the hell could this woman have made me feel like a fool? I wasn’t sure what upset me so. The feeling of being used? The feeling she was playing with us?

I yanked at the buttons on my shirt, ripped one off, crumpled the fabric, and tossed it in a corner. With both hands, I splashed water on my face. It ran down my bare chest, giving me goosebumps. It was time for a talk with Adam. I knew when he went out with a girl, he had serious intentions. For me, it was often just about having a good time together, having fun, or maybe stealing some kisses. I didn’t want him to get wrapped up in a woman who might only be looking for security or wealth. On the other hand, he didn’t appreciate anyone meddling in his private life. He considered himself quite capable of recognizing the motives and intentions of people. But what was always said? Love’s blind.

++++

“Adam sure spruced up tonight!” I whispered to Hoss as we rode into Virginia City behind our brother’s and Matilda’s buggy. “I have a feeling he’s serious.”

“You might be right, little brother. I can smell his bay rum from here!” Hoss waved his hand in front of his nose.

“What do you think of Matilda?”

“She’s a sweet little thing, but she sure knows what she wants.”

“I can’t figure her out. I have the impression she’s not telling us the whole truth.”

“Why? Do you think she’s hiding something?”

“Not exactly … it’s just a gut feeling.”

I rubbed my chin with an embarrassed grimace. Should I tell Hoss what had happened? “Do you believe she … um … wants to marry again? She was sort of flirting with me.”

“Little Joe, you’re the one who understands women. Don’t ask me! I haven’t noticed, but I guess she’s after Adam, not you. Sorry, buddy. Is that eating at you?”

“No, I mean, yeah …” As I steered Cochise closer to Chubb, I took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. “After we got back from town, she seduced me in the barn.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Well, she started it, but I wasn’t unwilling either. I got laid in the hay.”

Hoss’ eyes widened. Astonishment turned to disbelief and then to confusion. “With you? But why does it look like …” Hoss pointed forward, where Matilda sat so close to Adam on the buggy seat their shoulders touched.

“Maybe she’s looking for a husband and doesn’t care which one of us it is?”

Hoss heaved a sigh. “Why are women always so complicated? You’ve got to tell Adam before this goes any further.”

I rolled my eyes. “I know. And I have a feeling he won’t be happy to hear it.”

 

Roy Coffee stepped into my path as we dismounted in front of the barn. He had a severe look on his face, his fingers hooked in his holster. “Howdy, Joe. Got a minute? Saves me a ride out to the ranch. I need to talk to you. Come to my office.”

A strange feeling overcame me. The sheriff didn’t look like he had good news. “Go dancing, Hoss. I’ll catch up with you.”

 

The office door closed behind me. “Don’t make it so exciting, Roy. Spit it out. What’s up?”

Roy sat down behind his desk and offered me a chair. Then, he began rummaging through the pile of papers in the filing basket. My foot twitched, and I kneaded the hat in my hand.

“Got it!” Looking triumphant, Roy pulled a sheet of paper out from underneath a wanted poster.

“A unit of soldiers has freed a white prisoner from a Paiute camp near Walker Lake. It says his name is Harold Rikers, and he was captured by the Indians last September.”

I took the telegram from the sheriff’s hand and stared at the words, unaware of their meaning. My voice was toneless. “Harold Rikers. Matilda’s husband!”

“Yeah, I suppose so. It all fits.”

“Did they only release one captive? What about her brother?”

“I’m sorry, Joe. I only know of one man.”

“Can you arrange to have him brought here?”

“Yes, son. I’ll send a cable to Major Pilcher to escort Mr. Rikers over here. When he arrives in Virginia City, I’ll let you know. Don’t tell the wife yet, all right? I have to see him myself to make sure he’s okay. Some people go crazy going through this. Who knows how the Paiutes treated him?”

 

The barn dance continued for a long time, but I wasn’t in the mood.

“Little Joe, your mind is far away!” the girl in my arms scolded. “I don’t need to dance with a guy who isn’t interested in me. I have plenty to choose from.”

“Sorry, Jane, something’s bothering me.”

I spent the rest of the evening standing by the punch bowl, trying to think of words how to tell Matilda her husband was still alive. She and Adam twirled around the stomped earthen floor to the spirited playing of the fiddle, violin, and accordion trio and the crowd clapping. I had seldom seen my brother so excited, and I felt sorry for him to have to tell him that Matilda was not a widow.

On the other hand, I was relieved that she would no longer be a part of our household. The fact that her husband was still alive solved all the problems.

 

I stifled a yawn as Hoss and I led our mounts into our barn and began unsaddling while Adam tended to the buckboard team. It was best for me to get it over with. After I ensured Matilda had disappeared into the house, I stepped beside him. “Adam, we need to talk!”

My brother’s dark eyes flickered challenging in the warm light of the lantern illuminating the barn. I hoped the soft sound of the horses and the smell of fresh straw and sweet oats would have the same soothing effect on Adam as it did on me since he seemed upset. “I’ve waited for days for you to come to me, Joe.” Adam put his hands on his hips. “I know you’re jealous because Matilda likes to be with me!”

“No, Adam, I—”

“You can’t stand a woman being interested in someone else, can you?”

Trying to keep my voice calm, I stifled a spiteful remark. “Matilda’s husband has been found.”

“What do you mean he was found?” Adam grabbed my upper arm so hard that I’d get a bruise.

“Roy got a wire. Harold is alive. A troop of soldiers rescued him from a Paiute camp. They’ll bring him to Virginia City.”

“That’s great.” Adam’s tone said otherwise. He released my arm and stared at me.

“I wouldn’t tell Matilda until we knew how Harold was doing.”

“Alright.”

Hoss and I exchanged unhappy glances, feeling our brother’s disappointment as he turned without a word and walked toward the house with his shoulders slumped.

++++

Two days later, a messenger from Virginia City brought word from the sheriff that Mr. Rikers had arrived and I should take Matilda to town. I read the note over and over as if it held the solution for preparing Matilda. I felt nervous. Was she going to be happy? Would she break down? I also had a gnawing feeling of guilt. I had slept with a married woman! Of course, it was silly to feel bad about it, I told myself. We all assumed her husband was dead.

I paced before Pa`s desk, running both hands through my hair. It didn’t help to put it off any longer.

“Matilda?” I knocked on the guest room door. “We need to talk!”

“Sure. Come in, Joe!”

I gestured to the settee in the living room. “Let’s have a brandy together.”

I noticed the worry in her blue eyes and the furrowed brow. “Usually, I don’t drink alcohol. I hate losing control.”

“You’d better make an exception this time.”

Matilda drained her drink in one gulp and grimaced. “Surely you want to ask me how long I will take advantage of your hospitality? Or why I’m going out with Adam?”

“No. Sheriff Coffee received a telegram. The Army freed one Paiute captive last week near Walker Lake.”

I watched the blood drain from her face. Her fingers gripped the empty brandy glass with white knuckles. She widened her eyes and stared at me, her mouth agape. “Who …” Her legs would have given way if she hadn’t been sitting.

“The man says his name is Harold Rikers.”

“Harold? He’s alive?” A rapidly rising blush replaced the pallor on her face. She turned her mouth into a suspicious smile. “Where is he? Can I see him?”

“He …”

Matilda put down her glass and jumped to her feet. “Is he in Virginia City? Can you take me there, Joe?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll hitch up the buckboard.” Relieved, I put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. That went better than expected. Grabbing my jacket, hat, and holster, I hurried to the barn.

 

All the way into town, Matilda peppered me with questions, which I answered as best I could. I tried to prepare her for the fact that her husband would suffer from the effects of his captivity. He might even have been tortured or had injuries. I knew of a woman whose nose had been burned to the bone by the Indians, but I was careful not to tell such gruesome stories.

Matilda’s fidgety nervousness had spread to me by the time the first houses of Virginia City appeared before us. My heart pounded in my throat, and I realized I clutched the leather reins until my fists hurt. I pulled up in front of Roy’s office. Before I could help Matilda leave her seat, she got off and disappeared into the building.

“Where is he?” I heard her yell.

“You calm down, lady. He’s with Doc Martin!” Roy put a hand on Matilda’s back, leading her outside.

“At the doctor’s? What happened to Harold? Is he all right?” Her voice grew loud and shrill, and I feared Matilda would become hysterical.

“Under the circumstances, Mrs. Rikers, he’s fine. It was just a precaution.” Roy said, relieved, as I took her arm and walked her across the street to Paul Martin’s office.

At our knock, the physician opened the door. Before he had time to greet us, Matilda pushed past him. “HAROLD?”

“Matilda? Honey? I’m here!” came a soft voice from one of the exam rooms.

“Oh my God, Harold!”

 

Paul, Roy, and I decided to give the couple privacy. We stood around Doc Martin’s desk, drinking a glass of what the doctor called medicinal brandy.

“How’s the man doing?”

Excited voices came through the half-open door, punctuated by occasional sobs. The two had a lot to tell each other.

“Mr. Rikers is fine so far. He’s thin and has some minor injuries, but nothing that won’t heal in a couple of weeks, with plenty of rest and good food. The Paiutes kept him as a slave but they treated him not too badly.”

“Did the soldiers only free one white captive? What about her brother?”

Roy looked into my eyes, shaking his head. Even without words, I understood what he was trying to tell me.

“According to Rikers, Walter, the brother, tried to escape. The Indians killed him.”

I let out a loud breath. “What will happen now?”

“Well, that’s up to them. They can get a hotel room—the city would pay for a couple of days—or you can let them stay on the Ponderosa.”

Undecided, I kneaded the hat in my hands. I wasn’t eager to meet Matilda’s husband, but I supposed it was inevitable. He would want to see the people who had saved his wife’s life.

“All right, Roy. They can spend a few more days at the ranch.”

 

Matilda

Our house was small but cozy.  From the window over the dining table, I overlooked the spread that was now ours. Sure, we had to start over and work the land, but we had a future of endless possibilities.

I gazed at the blank white sheet of paper on the table, chewing my pen.  How should I begin?  I needed to get this over with. Sighing, I dipped the feather into the ink and started writing.

 

Dear Joe!

I hope this letter finds you and your brothers in good health. Say hello to your father as well.

Harold and I now call a fertile piece of land in southern Idaho our own. We built a house with our new neighbors’ help, and Harold has started preparing the ground for planting.

My hand shake a little as I try to write my thoughts down. When I think of the afternoon in the barn, I am ashamed and want to apologize. Looking back, I know it was foolish and immature to try to bind you to me that way, and I destroyed something between us that day. I’m eternally grateful for your discretion in keeping this secret.

The real reason for this letter is more good news. A precious gift is growing inside me.

No. Don’t worry, Joe. It’s not your child, but I hope you will share this moment of joy with us. My husband and I are full of happiness and anticipation. 

With gratitude for your friendship,

Matilda

 

I exhaled, set the feather aside, folded the sheet, tucking it into an envelope.  On my way into town, I will drop it off at the post office.

With a smile, I stroked my belly, which was still flat. This child was the result of a loving act. Not like the red-skinned, black-haired baby I had given birth to alone in the middle of winter and left outside until it stopped moving. I would bury the memory of it forever, just as I had buried the tiny, lifeless body deep in the cold, wet earth and covered it with stones.

This child, Harold’s child, I would be able to love.

The End

(Spring 2024)

 

Based on a true story from the german book “Pulverdampf war ihr Parfüm” (“Gunpowder Vapor Was Their Perfume.”) Janette Rikers spent six months alone in a covered wagon and later in a shelter made of poles and logs after her husband and brothers failed to return from a hunting trip.

I mention a narrative from Mary Rowlandson, who was held captive by the Wampanoag Indians for eleven weeks in 1676 and

The Whale, a novel by Herman Melville