Black Falcon 10 part 5 delivering the females cliffie bonus

 

10 Delivering the Females part 5

 

 

“Did that bastard Nathaniel do this?” demanded Luke.

“Yes, he did, and he told Emma that he’d whip her with his belt if she stopped him whipping me, and he made me strip to my drawers to be whipped,” said Ida, throwing herself into his arms, and sobbing.

“The hell he did! I’ll see you put up in the hotel, and I’ll go and collect your sister and kill the bastard,” growled Luke.

“Oh, Mr. Sokolov, please do not, it will get you into trouble,” said Ida. “He is in good standing in the community, respected as a good and Godly man.  And they will lynch you.”

“They’d have to catch me first,” growled Luke. “You got away all right, though.”

“But not the way you suggested, oh, Mr. Sokolov, we are neither of us allowed to go into town, wasting time on frivolity!  I changed in the barn, and wrote to my sister, and made as if I was coming onto the property and asked if I could give a letter to a Mrs. Emma Pepper; and he took it and read it, and I said it was give to me by a girl who was getting onto the train, and he said ‘Good riddance!’ and then threatened me as a boy to get off his property or he’d have the dogs on me. That was when he hit my face because I was so shocked he read a letter marked ‘Private.’”

“Unfortunately, there are many men who consider it perfectly acceptable to read the mail of other members of their household,” said Luke. “I consider it rude, myself. He seems a very controlling fellow.”

“He is; take me with you wherever you’re going,” begged Ida.

“Don’t you want me to rescue your sister?”

Ida scowled.

“She keeps saying, ‘Don’t annoy Nathaniel!’ and I don’t always know what it is I’ve done that annoys him. I don’t even know what he wanted to beat me for, I was trying, truly I was.”

“Huh,” said Luke. “Well, if you don’t know what you did wrong, strikes me that punishment isn’t going to cure what he takes as a fault. He’s a nasty piece of work. And it was Emma’s choice to marry him; I offered to look for a way to get her out of it. It’s up to her to protect you, and she has failed. May I enquire what you said in the letter?”

“I said, ‘Dear Emma, I have never been so humiliated as by Nathaniel, and he hasn’t even told me why he beat me, and you didn’t explain either. I refuse to stay where I can be beaten savagely on the whim of a strange and insane man who doesn’t seem to have any reason for hurting me other than that he enjoys it.  You might like it but I don’t. Ida.’”

“Not likely to make him any more douce when reading your forthright opinion,” murmured Luke. “I wonder if you’re right?  Oh, well, I’ll drop a few rumours that his sister-in-law fled because he’s a child-spoiler. That ought to tarnish his reputation.”

“Can’t we just leave?”

“If you really want to. I’d like to wait until tomorrow if that was all the same to you?”

“Oh! I don’t mind that, you’re with me and you will protect me. But, Mr. Sokolov?”

“Yes?”

“If you are going to take me to your family, do you think I could learn to use a whip the way they say you did?”

“Oho, my child, I see what you are thinking.  Yes, I am sure you will learn if you work hard enough,” said Luke. “And I’ll take you back to rescue your sister.”

“Thank you,” said Ida. “I’d like to see how much he likes whipping if he’s on the receiving end.”

“People don’t think of a whip as a weapon,” said Luke. “With a weight on the end, it can be a deadly one.  And you can carry a plaited belt quite openly, with a pomander or something on it, and not seem to be carrying a weapon at all, and if decorative enough, it would be a fashion statement on a gown.”

“I like the sound of that,” said Ida, fiercely.

“Good,” said Luke. “We’ll get you a horse in Denver; the choice will be better than in Burlington, where we get off the train, and we have to stop in Denver in any case to change from the Union Pacific to the Burlington and Colorado line. Then we have a forty mile ride.”

“I am sure I don’t melt in bad weather,” said Ida.

“You’re a little trooper,” said Luke. “But we’ll spend this day round outfitting you with better cold-weather clothing. You already look cold.  And you only got essentials for escaping in.”

“I can’t cost you more money,” Ida protested.

“Yes, you can. I’m well-off, and I’d hope someone in my position who was helping one of my sisters would do as much,” said Luke. “And yes, I know that a man buying clothes for a woman holds certain expectations of his intentions, but my intent, for now, at least, is to treat you like Kalina.”

“Yes, sir,” said Ida.

Soon she was outfitted with a long duster, several more pairs of socks, fur-lined boots, fur-lined gloves, soft enough to drive or ride in without feeling clumsy, woollen shirts, and a denim jumper to wear over as another layer. A thick and long muffler wrapped over her chest under her duster, and she was warm for the first time since she had run away.

 

Ida was awed into silence to eat in a restaurant of somewhat better class than she had been used to, and wearing a respectable suit. She kept looking sideways at Luke, not being used to him in the clothes more expected of an eastern gentleman than a westerner, unless he be a banker or similar. Somehow the look worked.

“What are you staring at?” asked Luke.

“I was wondering how your suit doesn’t make you look tame and respectable, but that you make the suit look untamed and dangerous,” said Ida, frankly, and then blushed.

Luke laughed.

“Probably because I am untamed and dangerous,” he said. “But they can’t complain; it’s black tie, and such is what we are wearing.  Though I have fulfilled a bet once, when I walked into a restaurant demanding black tie and specifying this meant white shirt and black jacket, as some of the local lads had demanded to be served wearing black ties with plaid shirts.  And I was wearing a white shirt and black jacket with my black tie, with my drawers.”

Ida gave a gurgle of mirth.

“What happened?” she asked.

“They tried to throw me out. Nice little brawl,” said Luke. “I threatened to sue for damages and they threatened to tell my father. I was about your age,” he added. “We retired with honours even, and they specified black suit with appropriate footwear thenceforth.”  He laughed. “If only they had known that they had fallen foul of my father during the Civil War; there was an officer trying to get food for his boys, and my father marched into the restaurant, with his arapnik – that’s our whip – and said ‘Feed them, and don’t you dare charge, they’re what’s been standing between you and being overrun by rebels.’ He had to break a few mirrors and cause some other damage, but they got the idea.”

“Did they get so far north and east?” asked Ida.

“No; but they might have done without the northern troops,” said Luke. “The southern argument attracted Papa at first until Mama pointed out that they kept slaves. Then he figured that the freedom to run your own life didn’t extend into the right to interfere in the lives of others.”

Having banished Ida to bed, Luke slipped out to visit a number of saloons. Here he made unkind comments about the sort of men who need mail-order brides, especially those who get a bride with a very young sister because their tastes ran to child-spoiling. He left that to sink in without going any further, and went to bed in the hotel pleased with how the rumours were growing.

Somebody would recall that Nathaniel Pepper had a mail-order bride; and he would have taken her and Ida to his church.  And when Ida was not there, a man like Pepper could almost be guaranteed to say that the ungrateful brat ran off just because she couldn’t take discipline.  And he would almost start the rumours for himself.

Luke was whistling softly when he went to bed. He looked in on Ida, and almost retreated, seeing her lying naked, face down on top of the bed; but the vicious looking welts on her back had him reaching for the salves he always carried to smear on the broken, puffy skin on her back and buttocks. Ida gave a sleeping hum of relief, and Luke set a chair each side of the bed on which to drape the weight of the blankets, but still able to tuck round her neck, so she would not get too cold.

Then he went to bed. She was a stoic girl, and he wished he could make Nathaniel Pepper eat his own belt.

 

The train to Denver would take many hours, being a hundred miles from Cheyenne, so Luke took a sleeper cabin, and paid extra for a steward to be with Blackwind and see to his needs.

“Won’t we be there later tonight?” asked Ida.

“Yes, but you don’t want to sit on those welts all the way; it could fester and make you incapable of riding later,” said Luke.

She blushed.

“I didn’t dream that you did something to make it easier, then,” she said. “And I certainly didn’t think of what you did with the blankets.”

“It was as vicious a beating as I’ve ever seen,” said Luke. “Not that I’ve seen many. I’ll renew the salves later, and again before we get off.”

“Yes, sir,” said Ida, meekly. “You know a lot about salves?”

“My mother was one of the first trained nurses in the world,” said Luke, proudly. “And she taught herself how to be a surgeon as well. Many of the men who came with my parents were alive because of her. And she taught all of us how to treat wounds, working on the principle that we were likely to get hurt, or meet people who were.  I’d rather have my mother treat me than any doctor with a degree.”

“She sounds wonderful; I hope she will teach me,” said Ida.

“Oh, hell, yes,” said Luke. “You’re an open-minded girl who is ready to learn anything anytime. I wager you have a fair idea how a steam engine works, and why a windmill has a vane out behind.”

“Well, obviously – in broad if not in detail,” said Ida.  “It’s steam pressure and it drives the rods which are set off centre of the wheels to convert it to circular motion.  And the vane is to turn a windmill into the wind.”

Luke gave a happy sigh.

“Miss Compton was escorting a girl to Denver to relatives, and she seemed to find the simple principle that steam can move things difficult,” he said. “Nice girl, but tedious. That’s why I wanted to wait a day over; I didn’t want her peppering you with banal questions. Or  me,” he added frankly. “Though it was my fault; I thought she’d like to see the great windmill at Laramie.”

“You can show it to me another day and I’ll make intelligent comments,” said Ida.

“You probably would, too,” said Luke. “Someday, you’re going to make someone a most excellent wife.”

“I’m not thinking that far ahead.”

“No; enjoy your childhood whilst you can,” said Luke.

 

Blackwind bit Luke as he was released from the caboose, and Luke bit him right back. Then he kissed the horse on his muzzle.

“I’ve missed you,” he said.

Blackwind Hrrmmphed, and blew spittle on Luke, who laughed.

“He’s such a character,” said Ida.

Their train would leave in the morning, so Luke took Ida to dinner in town. On the way they passed a notice.

“Half-bred Arabian to go to any man who can stay on his back more than fifteen minutes; in the event of more than one successful rider, the one who can stay on longest wins. Entry $5, spectators, 25c.”

“Oh, Mr. Sokolov! Are you going to try?” asked Ida.

“I... well, Arabian stock is worth a lot of money,” said Luke. “But if I win, we’d have to ride a hundred miles home, I can’t take an unbroken horse on the train.”

“Oh, I am sure you will make sure we get there safely,” said Ida.

Luke laughed.

“You have a lot of faith in me,” he said.

“How could I not? You’re owned by a wise horse like Blackwind,” said Ida.

“Oh, very good,” said Luke.

 

oOoOo

 

Asking around, early in the morning, led Luke to discover that the owner of the bronc had bought the half-blood Arabian cheap, and had been unable to ride or break it. The competition rules were that competitors were welcome to try to put any tack they wanted on the horse, and if they were bitten or trampled, it was their own lookout.

“A real free spirit!” said Luke, happily. He bought a spectator’s ticket for Ida, and a right to compete for himself.  He was to go third, which meant that the horse was likely to be really annoyed by then, and not yet tired out.

Oh, well, that was the way of it.

 

 

The first contestant arrived with bridle and saddle. The beautiful palomino half-blood pawed the ground.

“He won’t even make it onto that beauty’s back,” opined Luke.

“Hey, tinhorn, I resent that,” said another.

“Resent it all you like, that’s my opinion,” said Luke. “I am not a tinhorn, however, so kindly refrain from insult.”

“’F I say you’re a tinhorn, y’r a tinhorn,” said the other.

Luke smiled, pleasantly. “Well, if it’s a case of personal opinion, I say your brains are made of prairie pancakes, but we can settle that when the riding is over. In the meantime, five dollars says that fellow doesn’t even get a proper seat on that horse.”

“Done! I’ll take your money when ma brother rides that durned ornery critter!”

Luke did not think he would lose his money; he gave five notes to the ranny to hold, the top cowboy of the owner’s spread, who seemed to be running the whole affair, and the other man grudgingly gave his. His brother was chasing the half wild colt with the bridle, and gave up on that, slinging the saddle onto the horse’s back.  This resulted in such bucking that the saddle came off unfastened. In the end the man came running out of the arena, his precious saddle in his arms, and with contusions visible on his face, and what looked like a broken arm.

“That horse can’t be ridden; it’s a fraud,” he swore, adding a few more words Luke hoped that Ida would not know.

“You knew the conditions,” said the ranny, handing Luke his winnings. “Next?”

Next was a rangy man with a Texan accent, who went into the ring with a lariat. He roped the horse’s head, and let it buck as he worked towards the creature. With a wild Texan yell, he vaulted onto the back of the palomino, hanging on to the rope around its neck.

“YEEEhaw!” he cried, and Luke frowned to see the spurs rowelling the flank of the beast.

This was the point at which the Texan came off, and had to roll out of the way to avoid being trampled.

The ranny signalled to two hands to manoeuvre the horse against the rail and cut the Texan’s lariat, to make it fair.

Then it was Luke’s turn.