Grace's Sweetheart: Part Two

Within two weeks of my movin' in, new neighbors arrived.  It seems that Lars Thorrenson, who'd been farming the next place up the road from Shilo didn't cope well after his wife Marra had passed away in childbirth.  He'd kept at it for nearly a year after, but Aunt Grace said that, spendin' Christmas alone had done him in, an' he'd finally given in to the idea of sellin' the place off.

 

That in itself was not all that unussual here 'bouts.  At the time it seemed not much more interestin' then somethin' for the local farm wives to gossip 'bout over their coffee cups.  But for better or worse, circumstance dealt a hand that trumped what even the gossips could conjure up; 'least ways, that's the reaction it got.

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"Good morning Jacob, are you already finished in the barn?"  She never bothered with Jake, like everyone else.  To Aunte Grace I had always been "Jacob".  I smiled at her as I entered the kitchen through the back door.  It was still dark out, but she was all dressed and shiny.  I didn't know what else to call it.  She never appeared, but that she was scrubbed an' ironed, combed an' wrinkle free.  An', at the moment, she was impatiently wait'n a pot o'coffee on the stove.

 

"Uncle George has made it easy for me; not much to do but milk'm an' feed'm... see to the water 'n such.  All the tools 'r sharp... just not much for it.  I'll cut some more wood later jus' for somethin' to do."

 

She smiled as she started breakfast preparations.  "You're for sure going to run out of room in the barn with all the fire wood if you keep it up.  Think you already have enough for this year and next both."   She was teasin' o'course.  "Besides, you might want to stop up by the Thorrenson place.  Hear we have some new neighbors.  Might be they could use some help moving in."

 

"You an' I both know yer just hankerin' fer news 'bout who they 'r an' what they'r like.  Y're more curious then Amy and Gracie put together."  I grinned at her as she blushed.  But just so's you won't be pacin' the floor, I'll head on over there this morning."

 

"Jacob !  You know I don't bide busy bodies."  She pretended to be indignant, but her eyes was sparklin'.

 

Later in the mornin', follow'n a breakfast of eggs, bacon, biscuits an' gravey an' coffee; an' a Bible readn' that Aunte did every mornin', I saddled her carriage horse, Bobby Boy, an' set out for the neighbors farm.  It was nippy, sure 'nough.  As late as it was, with a clear sun shinin' down, ice cicles still draped themselves from tree branches an' the eves of the barn.  The horses hoves crunched through the snowy ruts left by wagons, but otherwise the snow made a rite nice silence across the country side.  I felt sorry for the folks who had to move all their posessions at such a cold time of year; an' wondered where they come from... an' like Aunte Grace, I wondered what they would be like. 

 

The Thorrenson place, or homestead as it had been called, was no longer either.  It fronted the other side of Riley Creek, which boardered Shiloh and split the two properties.  At the bridge that crossed the creek I caught my first view of Thorrensons big house.  It was a place he had built for his wife who was keen to have a large family.  Now, by the look of it another was movin' in.  There were three wagons; mounds of belongin's piled high an' covered by tarps.  I nudged Bobby Boy ahead up the rutted path.  It led to a large, open hard packed area between the front of the barn an' the house where stood a hitch rail an' the three wagons.  It appeared things had been left parked over-night, for no horses were in sight.  It wasn't 'til I had reigned in an' swung down at the rail that I first saw signs of folks bein' around.

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 Two faces peered at me through the window of the house.  Two faces... girls; my age or so, with dark eyes, fair skin an' black hair.  The two most beautiful faces I had ever laid eyes on, an' all at one time.  I lost my breath; or, maybe it was just, I forgot t'breath.  I also forgot my manners... forgot to look away, forgot to not stare.  'Course, they seemed to forget the same thing for they were starin' right back. 

 

'Bout that same time just behind me, the rasp of the barn door bein' pushed open right near made me jump out'a my skin.  Quick as I could I wound the reins that I still held in my hands 'round the rail, then I pivoted around in time to come face to face with a lean young lady leadin' a horse from the barn; though "lady" didn't quite fit her appearance.  She was dressed in mens clothes; canvas kind of pants, western style riding boots an' broad brimmed hat, somethin' like the ones I'd seen in pictures of cowboys in the southwest.  Over it all was a heavey leather coat that, by the looks of it had fleece still on it but facin' inward.  An' at the moment she was stopped dead in her tracks, an' givin' me a steady gaze that made the skin to the back o' my neck tickle just a bit.  Maybe that was for the rifle she carried in her free hand.  I'd never met a ranch hand, never heard tell of a girl one... but my best guess was I was lookin' at one.

 

"Y'all got business here?"  She said that, with long drawn out way o' talkin', like she weren't in no hurry at'all.  The whole situation left me just a'bit flustered, an' I fear I stood there starin' open-mouth longer then I'd have liked.  She never dropped her gaze, but just kept hold'n it until I finally decided I really better speak up.

 

"Uh... pardon me miss.  Is the... uh... is the man o' the house home?"

 

"What do you be want'n he'um for?"

 

Truth be told, this wasn't goin' at all the way I'd thought.  An' this... person didn't seem in a hurry to make it any way easier.  "I'm from next door..."  I motion with a tip o' my head in the direction of the creek.  "Thought I'd stop by to welcome the family...  maybe lend a'hand movin' heavey stuff... or what'ever need be."

 

She studied me a few moments longer, then sighed as she turned her horse back toward the barn.  She raised her voice as she moved away, tossin' it back over her shoulder; "It's right neighborly.  Y'all are welcome.  If'n ya want ya can bring yer horse in the barn an strip 'm down.  'Fraid the stalls'r full, but you can tie'm if ya be a mind to."

 

I noticed two things at that moment.  The horse was a beauty of an animal.  No farm horse for sure.  An' as she moved away, I noticed there was a casual ease that she moved with, that she walked an' carried herself an' handled the horse with.  As I followed along, I wondered again at the people who'd moved in to the Thorrenson place, an' what kind o' story they had brung along with'm.

 

The barn was alive with the shufflin' and thumps an' snorts of the horses that crowded the stalls.  Without countin' I guessed a good dozen or so; an I could see right off they were all of the same quality of stock as the one she had with her.  I stood starin' amazed by the sight.  The girl glanced back at me, then gave a half smile.  "They're our breed'n stock.  All that's left of our place we come from."

 

"Them are right beautiful horses..."  The longer I looked the more I realized it was true.  "Truth be told, I never have seen the like of''m before." 

The half smile had spread, an' her face had become truly radiant.  "Thanks.  For the most part they be mine.  They's what we all call  'Paint'.  It's a horse that the Indians bread for a long time.  Came from old Spanish stock."

I walked up to one that was particular handsome.  "I can see why they be called Paint."  I reached up and ran my hand down over the horses withers.  Looks as though someone took a white horse, 'n lots'o brown an' black paint and painted them big patch's o' color."

 

She laughed.  "That there one is Mingo.  He's a bit high'n mighty spirited, see'n as he's the stud of these here mares."

The horse gave a snort, an' eyed me with the most unnatural eyes I ever see on a horse.  They was ice color.  Not the brown like most.  He nuzzled my hand, lipping at the palm, snuffling as though lookin' for somethin'.  "Sorry Mingo, ain't got no carrot."

"Not seen him be'n so calm with a stranger."  She grinned.  You want'a give him a shot?  Only me'n Pa have ever mounted him.  Least ways, the only ones to stay on."

I smiled back, an' nodded.  "I ain't no cowboy, but can't say's I've ever seen one like him."  I looked at her again, tryin' hard not to be too puzzled.  She was nothin' like the young ladies I'd seen in the window.  How did she fit into the family?  I was by this time, more'n just a little curious.  But, at the same time I wanted to be judicious; "Do you think your pa'll want to start the wagons right away?"

 

She stared a moment off in thought.  "Honest, we all're in a bit of difficulty.  Pa hurt his leg on the trip.  He barely could drive a wagon.  Liftin' is out of the question."  She took on a kind of forlorn look.  "I'm sorry.  I'll do my share... an' the girls'll probably work inside the house, but..."  She shrugged in a tired way.

 

I guessed that meant it was me 'n her.  "Tell you what.  If''n you can wait a while, I'll get my pa an' three brothers.  It'll take an hour an some to ride there, an' then again back...  we can work tonight an' tomorrow if need be.  But it'll go faster."

 

"Thanks..."  She spoke low an' husky.  "It means alot!"  She stood for a moment, then spoke again.  "If you'd like I can ride along..."  She brightened and looked up.  "I was gettin' ready to ride out and try to find some meat...deer or such.  Our food stores, they're ridin' low.  But I don't rightly hanker to trapes around through an area I don't know yet.  Maybe you could tell me some about it if''n I went along.  'Sides, I'm think'n we might move quicker with two of my horses."  She grinned. 

 

This girl was startin' to loos'n up, an' it made for a very nice change.  I decided it really would be good to have someone to talk to.  "You sure you should be ride'n with a stranger?"

 

She reached up an' patted the rifle which was slid down in a kind of leather sheeth that hung along side the saddle.  "I can handle myself".  She shrugged, still smile'n.  "And I'm a fair decent judge o' character.  Where we come from you had to be."

 

I nodded.  "Then I'll welcome your company."  I looked around the barn.  I really wouldn't mind ridin' such a horse as one o' these."

 

"Your folks have ridin' horses, or should I bring along o'string o'mine?"

 

I studied on that for a minute.  "Pa has a plow team, an' a carrage horse; Molly, the sister to this'n.  More'n likely he'll hitch up the wagon when we get there..."  I sighed, and shrugged.  Depends on how fast we want to get back.

 

"Good 'nough.  I've got three more saddles if we can use yours, an' if they have one more..."

 

I started unsaddling right away.

Reviews

[JustJasmine]

Even though it did end abruptly as you say, it still was good. I love the dialogue. I wish I knew more about the characters though. But it's still a very well written piece. Nice work!

[madmocha]

Uhm... yeah, I know it ends abruptly. At the time of writing I just wasn't in a position to pursue a long term relationship with a story. ;) This was several years ago, and I was chasing other dreams. But I've always been a little partial to this one.