Bride's Flight from Virginia City, Montana (2 page)

“Pony? You say Bill’s got a pony? Here all along I could have sworn it was a mule.”

“Oh, he’s got both. Rides the pony on Tuesdays and Thursdays and the mule the rest of the time.”

“Glad you cleared that up, Scotty. I thought Billy Gallagher was two different men on two different nags and drawing two different paychecks from the Spence outfit.”

“So I am, you worn-out old cowpokes. Why, Charlotte Spence has made Billy number one foreman and Billy number two head wrangler—I aim to retire a rich man in a few more months.”

“You fellahs can stand here and spin your yarns right through breakfast if that’s what pleases you. But me, I’ll take bacon and beans over a cowboy’s dreams.
Adiós.
”

Charlotte waited a bit longer, until she was sure all the men had ridden in and were seated at the table. Then she led Daybreak from the stable and swung up into the saddle. Urging the mare into a trot, she went across the yard and headed for the eastern end of the ranch. She was pretty sure Laycock and Martin would tell the hands she was headed west to Lookoff and send a few of them out that way to keep an eye on her. Charlotte had every intention of having a look at the panther tracks herself, as well as the trail of the riders her foremen thought might be outlaws, but not until she was sure she could be up there on her own. Her ranch hands were all good men, but she had to make sure they understood she could handle things without their help. Otherwise, how could she command their obedience and respect? Picking up the fence line, she followed it north under the winter stars. Yes, it was mild out for early February, but she still felt a sting on her cheeks.

For two hours she crossed streams that were running or partly frozen in the dark, found healthy calves with their mothers, and spotted knots and clusters of her herd happy to find good grass where the snow had melted back. Eventually she made her way up a ridge where there was a tall pinnacle of rock she called the Sentinel. She hardly ever mentioned the place to others, even though it was one of her favorite spots on the ranch, simply because she wanted to have it to herself. Her foreman wouldn’t think to send Scotty or Gallagher here.

She sat back in her saddle and brought two buttermilk biscuits from her pocket. Cold as ice, they still tasted pretty good. As she chewed and swallowed, the sun rose like a great yellow and orange ball over the valley and hurled bright light at the Rocky Mountains to the west. The sight made her stop eating and hold in her breath. The white snow on the peaks burned like a world on fire. Was there any part of America more overflowing with grandeur, more rugged, and more beautiful than the Montana Territory?

“And God said, ‘Let there be light and plenty of it!’” she called, her words echoing back twice over. “And so there was light! Light that had no end! Light that could not be stopped!”

She laughed in sheer delight and went back to her biscuits while she looked over the land that was spread out beneath her. Sweet Blue Meadows. Two Back Valley. The Shining Mountains. What a location her brother Ricky had found to build the Spence ranch. What a gift. It was impossible to get tired of gazing out over heartland that was God’s land, land He had shared with the creatures made in His image, the human race. All kinds of people loved Montana—Indian, white, black, Chinese, Spanish. Sometimes they fought, sometimes they lived in peace. But they held in common their respect and passion for the rocks, grass, earth, and boundless sky.

Then, as the sun fully emerged, bringing the blue sky with it and making everything gleam, a feeling of deep sadness rushed through Charlotte. The sensation was so strong it made her wince. Her father and mother were dead. All her brothers and sisters were dead. No one sat on his horse beside her, loving God and God’s land as she did, loving her, gazing at her with a fascination that told her he cared more for her beauty than that of the great mountains themselves. The big ranch house was empty except when her hired hands rode in for their three squares a day—no children slid down its banisters or chased each other through its halls or hollered through its windows and doorways. For a few minutes she let tears streak over her face. So much to enjoy and no man, no family, to enjoy it with.

For a few moments she let the faces of various men drift through her thoughts. Many of them had been handsome but were not men of faith. Others followed God but did not know their way around a lasso or branding iron or beef cattle. Still others seemed to love the idea of being connected to Charlotte Spence and the Spence ranch but did not know how to love her.

She leaned into the saddle horn with her gloved hands. No, nothing had worked out. Well, she’d had her cry. She flicked the mare’s reins. There was no use in carrying on like this. She was a woman alone and had to get used to it.

To make her way to Lookoff she had to come down from the Sentinel and the ridge, so she coaxed Daybreak along a trail that led to the valley bottom. Then she walked the palomino through thickets and scattered boulders. There was still snow on the highlands, so she didn’t think all the tracks would have disappeared with the thaw. Her brother had taught her how to read signs, and she was curious to see what she would come up with when she examined the pugmarks—mountain lion, panther, something that wasn’t even remotely like a cat?

The crying of a calf jolted her out of her thoughts. She put her horse into a trot and saw the calf standing by a large rock, its young eyes wide in terror, bawling for help. Without even thinking about it, Charlotte slid the Winchester from its scabbard and walked the horse closer. Now she saw the body of a cow just beyond where the calf was tottering on its thin legs. Instinctively she knew it was the calf’s mother. Then a head lifted from the far side of the carcass. A mountain lion.

Charlotte barely had time to take it all in before the big cat growled deep in its chest and sprang, bounding over the dead body and making for the horse. Daybreak reared just as Charlotte fired, and the shot went wild. The mare kicked out at the lion with her front hooves. The cat darted around to the horse’s back, and Daybreak whirled and struck with her hind legs, missing the mountain lion but throwing Charlotte to the ground. Just missing a pile of rocks, she rolled and took dirt and grass into her mouth. The palomino ran off, squealing loudly, and the lion turned to Charlotte, its eyes spitting fury. She had trouble bringing the Winchester to bear, the barrel sticking into the soft soil. The cat was going to pounce.

Jesus, help me. Help me.

The lion was on top of her, roaring and trying to bite through her neck and head. She yanked the barrel clear and shoved it into the cat’s snarling mouth. Her finger was outside the trigger guard, and she wasn’t able to fire. The cat thrust claws at her face, and Charlotte twisted her head and shoulders. This movement jerked her finger onto the trigger. She squeezed. The blast made her ears sting. She was able to work the lever and fire again. Then the weight and hot breath of the lion were on her face, and she almost passed out.

The lion was not biting or moving. Charlotte tried to push herself out from underneath, but it took some time. Finally she was free and sat back, trying to get a lungful of air and staring at the animal, her carbine still in her hands. As frightened as she was, she could not help but marvel at the mountain lion’s strong body and long tail, at its wild and powerful beauty. She bent her head and leaned it against the warm Winchester barrel.

I wish it had never hunted my cattle. I wish it had never strayed onto our range. But thank You, God, that I’m alive. Thank You.

Finally she climbed to her feet and glanced around for Daybreak. The mare was about a hundred feet away, her head turned toward her mistress and the cat. Charlotte slowly walked to her, speaking softly.

“It’s all right, girl. The lion won’t bother you anymore. Don’t run. You’re safe. Yes, it’s me.”

The mare didn’t move, but rubbed its nose on Charlotte’s arm and snuffled against the sleeve of her thick winter jacket. Charlotte put her head against the mare’s and closed her eyes. “We’re both alive. We made it. Rest easy, girl. Thank God, we’re both okay.”

The crying of the calf made her look up.

“That’s enough excitement for today,” she said to Daybreak. “Let’s get the calf back to the ranch and get it some milk. Keep it alive. It’s all about life, girl, all about keeping things alive.”

Not wanting to take the mare close to the cat’s body, she tied the horse’s reins to a nearby aspen and then walked over to get the calf. It was happy to be picked up and comforted, burying its little head in Charlotte’s chest. Then she came back to Daybreak, took the reins in her hand while holding the calf tightly with the other, and after a couple of tries, got up into the saddle. The calf cried out at this but once the horse started moving, the rocking motion seemed to comfort it. Charlotte kept to the valley floor and moved the palomino along at a slow trot. It would take a couple of hours to reach the main ranch.

“You hold on, young one,” Charlotte whispered to the calf. “I intend to take good care of a little orphan like you.”

The calf was asleep but alive when Charlotte walked Daybreak into the yard in front of the house. It was about ten o’clock, she reckoned. She never used a watch while out on horseback but preferred to estimate time by the position of the sun. Billy Gallagher was sitting on his horse and gulping down a mug full of coffee Pete had just handed up to him when they both saw her. Billy was off his horse and at her side in an instant.

“What happened to you?” he asked, reaching up for the calf.

Charlotte placed it in his arms. “I guess I ran into that panther of yours.”

“Where?”

“Just below the Sentinel. It killed the calf’s mother.”

“What happened to the cat?” “It’s dead.”

“Are you cut? Are you bleeding anywhere?”

“I don’t know.”

“You look like you took a tumble down a mountain slope.”

Pete helped her down from the mare. “Better let me look you over. Come inside.”

She looked at Billy. “The calf needs warm milk.”

“Did it have a few days to feed off its mother?”

“I think so. She’s pretty sturdy.”

Billy nodded. “I’ll take care of it.” He headed toward the barn.

“What about Daybreak?” called Charlotte.

“I’ll take care of her, too. Don’t fret. Let Pete clean you up.”

It didn’t take long for word to get around the ranch that the Spence outfit’s ramrod had tangled with a mountain lion, and the mountain lion had come up short. Not only that, but Charlotte Spence hardly had a nick on her despite firing off two rounds with the lion pretty much sitting on her head. Charlotte lay down for an hour in her room but heard the ruckus when the hands came in for lunch. Scotty had brought in the cat, and most of the men would have seen it when they rode up. She could tell that the talk around the table was louder than usual and pushed herself off the bed.

I had plans to do chores in town this afternoon. A brush with a mountain lion shouldn’t change that. And the boys will want to see me.

She put on a blue dress with lace at the collar, pinned up her hair, and headed down the staircase. The men all stood up when she entered the kitchen, dropping their forks and knives and asking after her health. She smiled. They treated her like one of their sisters.

“Boys, I’m fine. It was a good bit of excitement, I can tell you that, but I’m none the worse for wear. Pete has given me a clean bill of health, haven’t you, Pete?”

Pete was wearing a large apron and placing another pot of coffee on the table. “A few thumps and bumps, but she’s sturdy as an oak.”

“There you are. So thank you all for your concern, but please, sit down and finish your meals. How is the calf, Mr. Gallagher?”

“Top notch, Miss Spence. Drank her fill and more. She’ll be all right.”

“That’s good news. And Daybreak?”

“Not a scratch on her, Miss Spence. I rubbed her down and gave her some oats, and she’s resting in her stall.”

“Thank you very much. You’re a good man.” She looked around the table. “You’re all good men. I’m blessed to have such a solid outfit to keep the Spence ranch up and running.”

“Our pleasure, ma’am,” said Laycock.

“And now, if you don’t mind, I’ll need the black hitched up to my Philadelphia buggy, Mr. Martin, for I have some matters in town to attend to.”

“Miss Spence,” Martin protested, “are you sure you’re fit for that?”

“I certainly am. After all, the excitement only lasted a minute or two. I’m rested up. Pete stood over me and forced me to eat hot buttermilk biscuits with gravy to restore my strength, and now I need to get into Iron Springs before this lovely February day is gone forever. I assure you, gentlemen, that considering the morning I had, an afternoon in town is going to prove most uneventful.”

She was on her way in ten minutes, the black stepping smartly along the road into Iron Springs, the dark buggy rolling smoothly through the puddles and mud behind it. Charlotte was wearing a bonnet and leaning back, comfortably holding the traces in her hands. She thought about her work at the library, some sewing items and fabric she meant to purchase at the general store, and whether today was a good time to discuss some issues with her attorney, Mr. King.

A bird burst across her path and startled her. For some reason, a face popped into her head immediately afterwards. A man she had been interested in once. Zephaniah Parker. A kind man. A strong man. A young man about her age, who had his own small ranch and ran it well. A man who honored God. She bit her lower lip and thought about him for a few minutes. Then she shook her head in annoyance and flicked the reins. She had hardly seen him more than once or twice over the past year, and for all she knew, he didn’t even live in the region anymore. She might never see him again and that was that.

“God’s will be done,” she murmured to herself and turned her mind back to the sorts of fabrics she needed to pick out at the store and which sorts of buttons would go best with what colors.

Chapter 2