Black Falcon 10 ppart6 delivering the females

 

10 Delivering the Females part 6

 

Luke approached the horse, speaking softly in the soft, musical tones of his father’s tongue, soothing and reassuring words. The roar of the crowd did not help the poor creature, which was terrified.

“O, my brother, you will understand the thrill of working together, neither one of us the master, but in partnership,” he murmured. “Miy brat, miy druh, miy dorohiyy,” my brother, my friend, my dear one. Then with one leap, he was on the palomino’s back, holding with his knees, anticipating the horse’s frantic bucking, moving to keep balance purely by the leaning of his body. Luke did not holler or shout, he was not about to disturb or upset the horse whose movements he read through his legs, and with whom he became completely in accord. The palomino bucked for a while, and then stopped, puzzled, since the weight on his back rode easily and without being a foe. Luke leaned forward to pet the horse on the neck, continuing to speak softly. The horse slowed its frantic movements, and stood still.

“You beauty,” said Luke.

“It’s a fix!” yelled the man Luke had bet against. “It’s all a dog-blamed fix!”

Luke’s well-honed senses registered a gun being drawn and he held tightly with his knees, and threw his arms round the palomino’s neck as the pistol was discharged, the shot taking his hat off. The palomino, not unnaturally, bucked wildly, and charged in the direction of the assault.

“Good instincts,” muttered Luke, crouching into his seat towards the mane as the infuriated horse cleared the high fence, leaning back as it landed. There was a cry and a rather wet squelching noise, and then he was clinging on for dear life as the horse burst out of the warehouse where the competition was being held, and headed  across the train tracks and out of town.

“By George, we’ll do very well together,” said Luke, “But we need to go back and get my stallion and a human filly, my dear, my love, my brother.”

He managed to turn the palomino, and they returned to the site of the competition trotting, a rough muzzle band and rein made by Luke’s own lariat.

There was some uproar there.

“Didn’t I say he wasn’t stealing the horse?” said Ida’s shrill voice.

“The hell! The horse stole me,” said Luke. “I give my word, I haven’t been off the back  of the horse in this time, I think I’m in with a good chance of winning.”

“Nobody else wants a devil horse that kills,” said the former owner, shaken.

“Kills?” said Luke. “I think he went for that fool who tried to murder me; if he didn’t I bloody well want satisfaction from the fellow.”

“And I’m telling the lawman here, that you didn’t ride him down, but that the horse is wild,” said the owner. “Your hat; it has a hole in it.”

“As I said, the fellow shot at me for being a better horseman than his fool brother,” said Luke.

“It don’t look like a wild horse to me,” said the sheriff.

“Well, friend, I’ve stuck on and ridden a lot of wildness out of him, but if we go back into the rodeo arena, why don’t you see how long you stick on him?” said Luke.

“I’ll do that,” said the sheriff.

The palomino gave Luke a reproachful look on being taken back into the arena, as Luke dismounted. Luke patted him on the neck, and the sheriff vaulted onto his back, about to make scornful comments.

He came to, lying on his back, wondering if he was still alive.

“D’you seriously think I’d be selling a chance to stay on at five dollars a time for a thoroughbred that wasn’t wild?” said the owner.  “I’m still obliged to offer the chance to anyone else who paid.”

Only one other person took up the offer; and stayed on for thirty seconds.

“My horse, I think,” said Luke. “Does he have a name?”

“Buttercup,” said the owner.

“I think he found that an affront to his dignity,” said Luke. “Here, kid, what shall we call him?”

Ida was standing beside him, clinging to his arm. She regarded the horse, a pale palomino whose golden coat was like silver gilt.

“Goldmoon,” she said.

“Goldmoon it is,” said Luke. “Miy Kohaniy, you are a Cossack horse now. Sir, can I stable him with you whilst I buy provisions?”

“Not likely, it took two hands with him well roped,” said the former owner, signing the bill of sale to Luke. Luke turned to Ida.

“Well, then, I must give you the money for supplies, my boy, while I walk with Goldmoon,” he said.

“Take him to Blackwind; I am sure he will tell him to behave,” said Ida.

“He might, too,” said Luke, leading the palomino. “I need to buy a horse for you, as well.”

“Help me onto Goldmoon,” said Ida. “He’ll take me.”

“You might break your neck when he throws you,” warned Luke.

“He’s sniffing me; he knows I’m with you,” said Ida, holding out her hand to the horse. Luke was horrified; but the palomino did not bite.  Against his better judgement, he lifted Ida onto his back.

The palomino nickered; but walked to Ida’s foot urging him.

“Well, I’m damned,” said Luke.

“He likes the ladies perhaps,” said Ida.

“You aren’t riding an unbroken horse all the way home, however he feels about it,” said Luke. “But you can curry him in a stable next to Blackwind, and if you train him, he’s yours, so long as you’ll put him to stud with our mares.”

 

As Goldmoon was happy to be fed and watered, he was quiescent enough in the stall with Blackwind; and Luke negotiated for a gelding for Ida to ride, and a pack horse. They would require more provisions if not going by train, and Luke shopped, explaining to Ida what he was getting and why. An army surplus officer’s tent pleased him no end, as well as canvas for a shelter for the horses. The high plains of Colorado were dry, and plenty of canteens were a necessity. It was a long way with few settlements, and Luke planned their route with care to take advantage of such watercourses as they could find, without going out of their way by following the Platte.

“At least it’s likely to snow, and we can melt that,” he said, with heavy irony.

“I am sure we will be safe in your care,” said Ida.

“If necessary we can dig in and use sods,” said Luke. “They build their houses of sods out there, anyway.”

“I suppose it would be warm,” said Ida.

“Yes, the earth is insulating,” said Luke. “Spades are necessary, and we can take some kerosene, and get some heat from a lantern or from earth soaked in kerosene. We’ll have a dutch oven as well, because so long as it boils, if then packed well in hay in a hole in the ground to stop it cooling down, it will carry on cooking. We do that last thing at night, it will save fuel and give us a hot breakfast. You’ll have to share a tent with me; I can’t risk your life for propriety.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” said Ida.

“You’re a little trooper,” said Luke.

He sent a telegraph message to his parents before they left, telling them his anticipated route home with a refugee and a stud colt.

“Papa will look for us in three days, and if we have not got home, he will come looking,” he said.

“Mr. Sokolov,” said Ida, “It may be foolish of me, but as there seems to be snow already on the ground, if we took a sleigh, we could pack more, and put the tent over it to keep us off the ground at night.”

“Ida, you’re a clever girl,” said Luke. “A sleigh we shall have; and you shall drive it, whilst I lead Goldmoon.”

The pack horse and gelding were traded back for a pair trained to pull a buckboard or sleigh, and Luke was pleased to find a good, sturdy sleigh with wheels that could be added to make it a cart.

 

oOoOo

 

The weather was bitter, and Luke insisted that Ida wear a snow-veil to drive.

“Nobody’s going to question it being a bit girly,” he said. “There’s nobody to question it.”

Ida acquiesced.

Soon she was singing.

 

“Dashing through the snow
In a one-horse open sleigh
O'er the fields we go
Laughing all the way
Bells on bobtails ring
Making spirits bright
What fun it is to ride and sing
A sleighing song tonight!”

 

Luke joined in the chorus,

 

“Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way
Oh, what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh, hey
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way
Oh, what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh!”

 

“We can’t sing too much, though, Ida,” said Luke. “Because we’ll waste water, drying our lungs in this cold, dry air.”

“Yes, of course we will. I’m sorry, it just seemed so right,” said Ida.

“It was lovely,” said Luke. “I love to sing when I’m riding. Perhaps we can sing in the tent.”

 

The December moon was waxing, and would be full in a couple of days’ time; and Luke planned to make use of the light of the moon to go as far as possible, pitching camp in good time to see by it, before it set behind them. By the time they left it was well up, and the daylight gone, but there was no point trying to stay in town with an unbroken horse.

There was a stark beauty in driving and riding over the frozen prairie, as the moon shone on Goldmoon and brought out the beauty of the pale golden horse with white mane and tail.  Luke had a rope between the noseband on Goldmoon and himself, and had thrown a bight of the rope over his own saddlehorn. Blackwind was no novice at transporting and breaking wild horses; both Luke, and his brother, Daniel, had gone out to capture wild horses for breeding stock if nothing else, to add the Spanish strain.  The Spanish horses, which had gone feral, bred well with the steppe ponies which Dmitro and his men had brought with them. They were capable of the faster ambling gait of the five-gait Kentucky riding horse, which Dmitro had been keen to bring into his stables as well. Blackwind covered ground hour after hour at a steady eight to ten miles an hour, a ridiculously high speed for a riding horse over long distances. The stage managed eight miles an hour, with frequent changes. Had he been on his own, Luke would have set out to cover the distance home in one day; and as Blackwind would then have had a long rest at the end of the journey, expected to cover it. As it was, he anticipated camping two nights on the high plains. And he expected more comfortable night sleeping in the sleigh with the tent over it than otherwise. It had been worth taking the time to have a blacksmith put sockets front and rear of the sleigh for the tent poles, and eyelets for the guy ropes.  The tongue of the sleigh and another pole held on it would make a rough shelter for the horses

He was looking for a bluff against which to camp, and though there was little in the way of eminences, a winding stream bed gave them some shelter out of the wind. Luke dug into the side of the low cliffs and filled with sand an old corned beef tin in catering size he had filched from the rubbish of the hotel.  He poured kerosene into it, setting it in his rough chimney, and preparing a meal of hash whilst Ida dug a rough latrine pit, using one of the wheels from when the sleigh was a buggy to prop between the back of the sleigh and the bluff, with canvas over it, as a rough shelter. They put the tent up together, fed the horses warmed bran mash from the fire Luke set in the kerosene fireplace, before putting their hash on to cook. Warm bran mash and hay from a bale tied on the back of the sleigh satisfied the horses, though Goldmoon was wary. Luke made a rough halter, and tied it to a stake he hammered into the ground; if Goldmoon was serious about escaping, he probably would, but Luke was hoping he was now seeing them as his herd. Most horses liked being near him, and the palomino had taken a liking to Ida.

 

Luke woke up warm and rested, not usually a given when travelling over the prairie in winter.  He was embarrassed to discover that he had his arm over Ida, and was cupping one small breast. He snatched it away in a hurry; his wayward body had noticed that she was on the verge of womanhood.

He turned over hastily to hide the morning reaction.

Ida wondered whether she disgusted him, that he should move away so quickly from what had been a most exciting position; and then remembered how careful he was with all the ladies, and suppressed a sigh that he was looking on her as a sister.

Perhaps in a year or two....

In the meanwhile, they were good comrades and worked well together, and he had said she would make a good wife.

And she had a lot to learn in the meantime from his mother.

 

oOoOo

 

The weather was bitter, but the sleigh skimmed the flat prairie, less set with treacherous bottoms filled with hay holding up thin snow such as might be found in less arid regions. Again, they drove on into the night, and Luke woke again in a compromising position.

At least they should make it home, today.

 

Pushing on brought the cavalcade onto the Levchenko ranch not long after midday.

Luke submitted to being hugged by his mother and sisters, passing Ida onto them, and willing hands took the horses as Luke and Ida were drawn inside the large log cabin by laughing, friendly people.

To call it a log cabin, thought Ida, would be to call one of the fine brick buildings in Denver a town house.  Set around a courtyard, stables and barns ran off one wing, and various other people seemed to live in the other wing, whilst the main family house was two storeys high, with perhaps half a dozen rooms on the ground floor, which were amply filled by the family.

 

“You’re staying for Christmas, of course?” demanded Dmitro.  “My son, what were they thinking, putting mail order brides in your care?”

“I delivered them all,” said Luke. “Ida’s sister is married to a nasty piece of work and she ran away. She needs to learn arapnik to go back and rescue her sister. And yes, I wired Sam that I’m staying here for Christmas, but I may go back to Eastbend after.”

“Yes, yes, when you get bored,” said Dmitro. “But now, welcome to you, and to my new daughter, and let us enjoy the season!”

“And you must tell Ida how you and Mama spent your first Christmas camping in an abandoned Tatar village,” said Luke. “I have precious little in the way of gifts for anyone, I was more concerned with getting supplies to get home with a wayward colt that Ida would have me win. He’s hers if she can break him, but he’s ours for stud.”

“Well, I am sure you have many tales to tell us,” said Dmitro.

 

Ida loved it.  The family were loud, but loving, and sang a lot, and made her welcome. And to Kalina, she confessed her hopes regarding Luke, and Kalina squealed with delight.

It was the Christmas of a lifetime... marred only by wondering what dour sort of Christmas Emma must be enduring.

 

I am working on the final chapter[s] - i have not had my head well in order though so I will try to have one for tomorrow but don't guarantee it