Mud Creek (6 page)

As she’d left, Helen hadn’t uttered a word. If Violet decided to traipse off on her own, there would be no stopping her. And the more Albert tried to prevent her, the more stubborn she’d become.

“We had an accident at the ranch,” Albert said.

“An accident?”

“Yes, with Arthur.”

“Is he all right?”

“No.” Albert glanced away. “No, he’s not all right.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Well…he’s passed on.”

Helen was confused, and she scowled. “He…died?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“A few weeks ago.”

“How?”

“We’re not sure, but he was out riding in the pasture on his own. It appeared he was thrown from his horse.”

She studied Albert, finding him such an enigma.

Arthur was dead and had been for awhile. The news was sad and shocking, and she should have been bereaved, but she hadn’t seen him in three years. So much had transpired since then that it seemed as if she’d never known him.

Albert wasn’t particularly distressed, either, but then, he’d had time to acclimate to the tragedy, which definitely raised some thorny issues.

What about Violet? She’d agreed to wed Arthur, but had actually been adamantly opposed, so she’d be relieved.

Yet if she didn’t marry, what would happen to her?

When Helen had convinced Violet to travel to the Dakotas, she’d been desperate over Violet’s reduced condition and certain that the quiet of the country, the stability of home and husband, would be exactly what Violet needed. She’d keep herself busy with better pursuits, would calm her nerves and begin to heal.

If there was to be no home or husband, where was the benefit?

Violet wasn’t a girl who should be idle, so there would be trouble ahead. Helen felt tricked. She might have snapped at Albert, but she was too weary to bicker.

He must have realized that his lack of candor was a betrayal. He rose and walked over. With her seated on the ground, he towered over her.

“You never said a word,” she charged. “You let us journey all this way under false pretenses.”

“Yes, I admit it.”

“You should have told me.”

“Would you have come if I had?”

“I don’t know.”

He rested a hand on her shoulder. It was supposed to be a comforting gesture, but it was odd to have him touching her. She nearly flinched away, but managed to tamp down the reaction.

“I wanted you with me,” he vehemently declared, “and you needed my help. I won’t apologize for offering it.”

“I don’t mean to quarrel. I’m just worried about Violet if she doesn’t wed. I thought Arthur would be good for her. I thought she’d gain from his steady temperament.”

“So did he. That’s why he proposed.”

“She’ll be at loose ends, and I’m afraid she’ll…”

She was too fatigued to complete her sentence. There had been too much upheaval in her life, and now, with her being in the middle of nowhere with Albert, she was wondering if she hadn’t made the worst possible decision.

Why was she such a bungler? Why couldn’t her affairs turn out as they should? Tears dampened her eyes, and she hoped Albert wouldn’t notice them. She couldn’t have him thinking she was weak or feeble.

“It will all work out, Helen,” he vowed. “You’ve only been here a few hours. We’ll get to the ranch, and you’ll settle in. You’ll be fine. Violet will be fine, too.”

It was an olive branch of sorts, and she latched on to it.

“Yes, Violet and I will both do well,” she concurred.

He pointed to her plate. Supper had consisted of cold beans and biscuits, but she’d had no appetite, so much of her meal remained uneaten.

“Are you going to finish that?” he asked.

“No, you can have it.”

“Are you sure? I learned quick that you can’t waste food in this country.”

“I’m sure.”

“You’ll be sorry in the morning. You’ll be starving.”

She forced a chuckle. “I’ll remind you to scold me.”

He went over to where he’d been sitting, and he wolfed down her leftovers and Violet’s, too. Her sister had choked down a single, dry biscuit, and if she came back hungry, she’d be too late.

He dumped the dishes in a pot of water he’d had heating over the flames, and Helen watched, her limbs like lead, as he cleaned up and stowed their gear. As he finished and relaxed by the fire, Violet appeared, looking none the worse for wear.

“It’s so quiet and so dark.” She gazed up at the sky. “I’ve never seen so many stars. They’re so bright.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Helen was eager to be conciliatory.

“Not beautiful,” Violet countered. “Just different from what we’re used to.”

She started walking in a circle at the edge of the light, as if she was brimming with pent-up energy. The incessant pacing would aggravate Albert, and Helen was in no mood for any squabbles.

She patted the ground next to her and motioned to Violet.

“Sit with me.”

“I’m too jumpy to sit.”

“I need to tell you something.”

“Oh, all right.” Violet huffed over and plopped down. “What is it?”

“It’s about Arthur.”

“What about him?”

“He had an accident, and he…ah…he died.”

Violet cocked her head as if she hadn’t understood. She glared at Albert.

“He’s dead?”

“Yes,” Albert confirmed.

“I’m very sorry to hear it,” she politely murmured. “He was a nice boy.”

On Violet being apprised that she was free of the union, Helen wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d made a rude remark. But she hadn’t.

Helen sagged with relief.

“Thank you,” Albert replied, accepting her condolences. It was the first courteous exchange between them.

“What happened to him?” Violet inquired.

“He was thrown from a horse.”

“How awful.” She seemed stunned. They were silent, then Violet asked, “If I’m not marrying Arthur, what is the plan for me?”

“You’ll come to the ranch with us,” Albert hastily said, “as we intended.”

Violet nodded. “Yes, I suppose I could do that.”

At Violet’s ready approval of the situation, Helen was relieved again. Later on, she imagined there would be protests and teeth-gnashing from her sister, but what option was there but to continue?

It wasn’t as if she could return to the train in Prairie City.

They were lucky that Albert was still willing to shelter her—even without Arthur to shoulder the responsibility. Albert was assuming Violet as his own burden, so that Helen would be happy, and she had to remember to be grateful. She had to remember to appreciate his many kindnesses.

But just then, with the wind blowing and the vast prairie sky pressing down, she couldn’t recollect why she’d chosen Albert to be her savior. In the morning, after she’d rested and had a chance to get her bearings, she’d recall her purpose.

Until then, she’d count her blessings and carry on as best she could.

*    *    *    *

“Hello, cowboy.”

“Hello, Miss Pendleton.”

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Violet was up on a grassy hill, staring down at the stream Albert had said was Mud Creek. It was a measly excuse for a river, brown and thick, the current sluggish. Apparently, it led to the ranch so they were trudging along its banks.

James Blaylock, the handsome fellow from outside the mercantile in Prairie City, was camped down by the creek’s edge. The land was so empty that she couldn’t believe she’d encountered another human being.

Albert’s wagon was a few hundred yards behind her, parked for the night. The moment he’d picked the spot, she’d leapt down and run off. She didn’t care what Albert or Helen thought of her behavior. They didn’t own her, and she wasn’t about to waste any energy gathering firewood or hauling water.

She flashed her sassiest smile at Blaylock and maneuvered her way down to him. As she stumbled over the rocks and ruts, he didn’t leap up to assist her, which was annoying.

Men liked looking at her. Men liked being close to her. It was an intriguing fact she’d learned at an early age, but he was immune to her charms.

He watched her approach, his expression wary and irked.

The sun had dropped behind the horizon, but the June twilight lingered.

The lengthy days invigorated Violet to an almost insane degree. They made her want to sing and dance and twirl in circles until she was dizzy with laughter.

They had been on the road for four days, with Albert claiming they’d reach the ranch by the following evening. The tedious hours in the wagon were the most boring she’d ever endured. If she had to spend one more minute, listening to Albert’s pompous lectures, she might start screaming and never stop.

“Why are you out here all by yourself?” she asked.

She hesitated, expecting an invitation to sit, but when it wasn’t voiced, she plunked down anyway.

“I’m heading home, same as you,” he replied.

“Do you live near the Jones family?”

“The next place to the south is mine.”

“So we’ll be neighbors?”

“It appears we will be.”

She grinned. It was the first ray of hope that had shined on her since her arrival. Well, the second ray. The
first
had been the blessed news of Arthur’s death.

He’d fallen off a horse! It was precisely the type of mediocre end she’d have predicted for him.

Blaylock was enjoying a hot supper—fish he’d caught in the river and some sort of tuber that resembled a fried potato. Her mouth watered. With Albert, it had been beans and biscuits, morning, noon, and night. She was starved for some real food.

“Have you an extra bite to share?” she brazenly inquired.

He handed over his plate. “Help yourself.”

“I believe I will.”

She flashed another saucy smile and gobbled down the tasty meal. He observed her, silent and brooding in a manner she liked.

“Thank you,” she said when she’d finished. “That was delicious.”

“You’re welcome.” He took the plate from her, rinsed it in the creek, then stowed it in a bag. “Has Albert warned you that it’s not safe to wander off?”

“Yes, but I ignored him. What do you think of that?”

“I think it’s very dangerous.”

“You sound as fussy as he is.”

“Miss Pendleton—“

“You can call me Violet.”

He snorted with what might have been disdain. “I’ll stick to Miss Pendleton.”

“Why are you such a grouch?”

She feigned a pout, but garnered no reaction, and she couldn’t abide his derisive gaze. She jumped to her feet.

“Would you like to come over to our camp? You could meet my sister.”

“I’ve met your sister.”

“When?”

“In Prairie City.”

“She didn’t mention you.”

“We were briefly introduced. I’m sure she barely recollects.”

Still though, he was brushing the dirt off his trousers, gesturing up the hill.

“Lead on, Miss Pendleton. I’m happy to renew my acquaintance with her. And I should make my hellos to Albert.”

Violet turned away, simpering with triumph. She marched off, and she didn’t wait to see if he followed. He wouldn’t be able to resist.

As she moved up out of the riverbed, the wind riffled her hair, blowing it off her shoulders so she’d appear very fetching. She slowed, preening, wanting him to notice.

Off in the distance, Helen was huddled by the fire, Albert’s wagon behind her. Albert was nowhere to be found, for which Violet was grateful.

Helen waved, and Violet waved back. She rushed over, beaming like a child with a new toy.

“Look who I stumbled on down by the creek.” She motioned to Mr. Blaylock.

“Well, I’ll be,” Helen murmured. She started to rise, but Blaylock said, “Don’t get up on my account.”

He came over to her and took her outstretched hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Are you on your way home?” Helen asked.

“Yes.” Frowning, he glanced around. “Where is Albert? He didn’t leave you here alone, did he?”

“No, he went down to the river to wash. I expect him any moment.”

Violet wrinkled her nose with distaste. “Maybe he’ll fall in and drown.”

“Violet,” Helen scolded, “don’t be rude in front of our guest.” She grinned at Blaylock and patted the ground beside her. “It’s wonderful to see you again. Won’t you sit?”

“I’d be delighted.” He eased down, his interest in Helen clear, and Violet was enormously annoyed.

“He’s going to be our neighbor,” Violet told Helen.

“I know,” Helen replied, spoiling Violet’s announcement.

“He’ll probably be riding over to visit all the time.”

“I hope he will.” Helen smiled at Blaylock. “Have you eaten? We have a few biscuits left.”

“I’m fine.”

“We had supper at his camp,” Violet boasted. “He cooked fish and potatoes.”

But Helen wasn’t impressed, and she scowled. “You barged in on his supper?”

“He invited me.”

Helen gave Blaylock an exasperated look, a familiar one that greatly aggravated Violet. It was a mix of regret and vexation over the fact that Violet refused to act as Helen thought she should.

“I apologize for my sister,” Helen said. “She can be an impossible pest.”

“It’s all right,” he politely claimed. “It was nice to have company.”

They bent their heads together and began to chat like old friends. They carried on as if Violet wasn’t present, as if she was invisible, and her fury soared.

She loved Helen, but hated her, too. Helen was the competent, capable, happy sister, while Violet was the misfit and troublemaker. Helen had been their parents’ favorite, the girl who was always perfect and was constantly adored because of it.

Violet should have grown to be just like her, but such stable, proficient character had proved too elusive.

She was too disordered on the inside, awhirl with grandiose ideas or crushing dread. She couldn’t blithely tolerate the tedious world that Helen took for granted. Violet didn’t
want
to tolerate it.

For several minutes, she watched them, and she was eager to interrupt so they’d pay attention to her, but they were too involved in their conversation. The more they talked, the more insignificant she felt.

She spun away and raced out into the grass, but they didn’t notice that she’d left.