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 

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.

 

 

 

 

 

black falcon 10 part 4 delivering the females

 

10 Delivering the Females part 4

 

Luke woke up when the locomotive stopped, and there were a number of bumps and clanking noises. He got up, to discover that Ella was already ready.

“My stop,” she said. “I’m awful nervous.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” said Luke.  “Does he know to meet you?”

“Yes; he’s meeting us all at the hotel for breakfast whilst they change the locomotive, to tackle the mountains,” said Ella. “I got dressed first, because I am nervous.”

“Well, why don’t I escort you into the hotel, and the other ladies can follow; here’s Albert, to take your luggage.”

Ella smiled with sudden shyness as she tipped Albert.

“Thank you; you have made this trip easier,” she said.

As it happened, Miss Compton and Florence were barely behind them as they left the train for breakfast; they would have a good hour at this stop, longer than the twenty minutes or so at each of the earlier stops for food, allowed by the railway, and partly accounted for by the time it took to re-fuel and top up the water of the engines, which were what caused the longest delays, every twenty-five miles or so.

The young man who was waiting in the hotel dining room had short, unruly dark hair, and was tanned by sun and wind, but had handsome, even features. He looked over towards the group of women, and rose, nervously.

“Joe?” said Ella.

“Ella?” he asked. “My, but you’re a looker!”

“You’re not so bad looking yourself,” said Ella, shyly.

He held out his arms and she ran to him.

“We’d better get some food or if we wait for them, we’ll miss the train,” said Luke, dryly.  “A happy match, by the look of it.”

Ella and her Joe were still staring at each other as Luke and Miss Compton escorted Florence back onto the train.

 

The journey through the mountains was slower; fuel must be taken on more often, to effect a climb.  The weather worsened, and it seemed as though they were continually butting through a snowstorm. Albert kept them fed and supplied with tea and coffee, to help stay warm; even the underfloor hot air was insufficient to keep warm without huddling in blankets.

“I didn’t know it got this cold,” shuddered Florence.

“It’s the altitude,” said Luke. He had joined the ladies, to stay warmer in numbers. “By the time we go down overnight, it’ll be a lot warmer.”

 

Luke’s prediction proved to be true, and by the time they reached Florence’s destination it was much less inclement. A man with a marshal’s star was awaiting the train, and Luke nodded to him.

“For Miss Florence?” he asked.

“Yes. You are?”

“Deputy-Marshal Luke Sokolov of Eastbend,” said Luke. “I came as a bodyguard; after nearly coming to grief outside our town, the ladies were, understandably, a little nervous. Though we’ve had no more trouble.”

“Oh, are you the young fellow Florrie wrote about who stopped the runaway carriage and saved their lives?”

“I did stop the carriage, yes,” said Luke, flushing.

“I was half afraid I was going to lose her to such a dashing young man, but she wrote that you were scarce more than a boy, which relieved me no end.”

Luke grinned.

“Miss Florence is a level-headed young woman, not likely to have her heart swayed by crazy riding tricks,” he said.  “And I’m too young to settle down, anyway.”

“Well, if you’ll care to come with me, I have a town house to put you up for the night, and the vicar booked to marry us in the morning, if you’d care to stay for the wedding?”

“If we can catch a train back, yes,” said Luke. “Miss Compton is desirous of earning a fee as duenna going the other way, if possible, if there are any young ladies heading East who could use a companion for the journey?”

“I don’t know, offhand, but I’ll ask the vicar, and between us I imagine we would know if there is.”

“And if not, I’ll have a word with your newspaper proprietor in case there are any adverts,” said Luke.

 

It turned out that a Rancher’s daughter named Lucille Bunce, was heading for Denver, to spend Christmas with her mother’s people and get a bit of town bronze; and Luke rode out to see the girl’s father.

“Name’s Luke Sokolov; deputy marshal in Eastbend,” said Luke. “Which means nothing here, but I was asked to bodyguard some ladies coming west to marry.  Their duenna is for hire, and I understand your daughter is travelling.”

“I don’t think she needs a bodyguard,” said Bunce.

“Oh, I’m sure she doesn’t,” said Luke.  “I’m headed back that way for part of the journey, but I agreed to ask if it was suitable from your point of view, and if so, to book the ladies a Pullman compartment on the next train to Denver, and I’ll be going as far as Cheyenne.”

“Papa!” a young girl dressed in dungarees burst into the room. “I don’t need no duenna or bodyguard, and I don’t want no town bronze! What for do I need to learn how to wear a dress?”

Luke raised his hat, and bowed.

“Well, now, Miss Bunce, I have to admit that wearing corsets and skirts is blamed uncomfortable, as I can testify, but it has its uses,” he said.

“You’ve worn a skirt and corsets?” demanded the girl.

“Oh, yes, and as I don’t go in at the waist as naturally as a woman it was a nuisance,” said Luke. “See, I’m deputy sheriff as a favour to my friend, the sheriff, whilst he trains up an underling; but I’m a bounty hunter by trade, and I was chasing a man who was charming women and marrying and killing them. So I made like I was a rich widow; even shaved my moustache off. He was worth twelve hundred dollars, and finding his cache of what he robbed also gave me a nice reward.  Now, I’m not suggesting you should be a bounty hunter; I don’t have to deal with being in an uncomfortable position on what my sisters call ‘courses,’ but I never turn down education in how to act any particular way. And if you learn how to drive those skirts, well, you’ll be able to meet any eventuality and shoot it between the eyes, however you’re dressed, won’t you?”

Lucille regarded him suspiciously.

“Did my daddy put you up to that?” she asked.

“I met him for the first time a couple of minutes before you joined us,” said Luke. “Personally, I think dungarees or divided skirt or trousers are the most practical garb on a farm, but my sisters tell me that being able to swish their skirts at young men helps to keep them in line.”

“Oh,” said Lucille. “I don’t want to go, I’ll have to watch what I say.”

“I’m sure Miss Compton will help you on the way,” said Luke. “She’s a kindly and sensible lady, and she has a sense of humour, though she has to act starchy.”

“Aren’t you coming?”

“No, I have to visit one of the ladies I left on the way, and see if I need to kill a man,” said Luke, his eyes bleak.

“Can’t be easy for these mail-order brides,” said Bunce.

“No,” said Luke. “And Miss Compton is too old to be considered so she earns her way as a duenna. She wasn’t looking forward to having to return sat in a seat for four days.”

“Oh, that would be horrid,” said Lucille. “Papa, you must make sure she and I are comfortable if I must go.”

“Your grandparents are keen to see you, Chickabiddy,” said Bunce.

“I suppose I want to see them,” said Lucille.

“Look on it as an adventure,” said Luke.

“I’ll ride into town with you, Sokolov, and get tickets,” said Bunce. “You pack, Lucille, and you make sure and take your dresses.”

Luke grinned to see the girl grimace and roll up her eyes.

It would be a culture shock for her; at least his sisters knew how to be demure in skirts or do a day’s work in the wide Cossack trousers they all wore for working.

He paid his own fare to Cheyenne, and stored his tickets.

They could see the happy couple married before leaving.

 

 

Florence looked radiant, a lovely change from her last minute nerves. She blushed shyly as she made her responses, and Luke found himself wondering if the sheriff had been a little premature with his lady.  It did not matter, if she was happy with it.

And then they must hurry to the railway line to catch the train east.

 

 

Luke left Lucille to Miss Compton, who would be able to give her a good idea of what was expected of her; but he joined them at meals, and after dinner he gave Lucille a game of chequers, to allow Miss Compton a bit of a rest, suggesting that she slip into his cabin to lie down for half an hour. His thoughts were more on Emma and Ida than on Lucille, whom he thought a nice child. He hoped that she would not learn too many prissy ways.

He was surprised to come quietly into his cabin to find Miss Compton hugging his pillow, and sniffing it.  She looked up, surprised, shocked, and, surprising to Luke, lustful.

“I... I am sorry, Mr. Sokolov,” she said, a tear starting in the corner of her eye.

“Miss Compton... Diana...” said Luke. “I am not looking for a relationship. But if you wanted a wild railway affaire, torrid, clandestine, and brief, then I’m not averse.” She was not unattractive, even if she would not see forty again.

Her eyes widened.

“I... I should not...” she faltered.

“Lucille was asleep on her feet from excitement of her first day’s travel, and being permitted wine,” said Luke.  “She’s probably already asleep.”

“I... yes! Yes, please, Luke... I may never have another opportunity for anything that passes as love.”

“Well, then, Diana, goddess of the moon, permit me.”  He kissed her, and she responded with gauche eagerness. Luke had been celibate for long enough that he was not feeling fussy, and being around attractive young women had not been easy. Miss Compton was in good shape, and took care of herself, and was eager enough to make up for any minor deficiencies a young man might normally consider insurmountable. And he eased his conscience in thinking that at least she would have something pleasant to remember, and might have the confidence to catch her own man in one of the older ranchers looking for a stepmother for children and companionship. He managed to take things slowly enough to have Miss Compton thoroughly ready for him, and Luke gently muffled her eager cries with kisses. He did not really want Lucille waking up and looking for her duenna! He had locked the door against such incursions, but it would be unfortunate.

Miss Compton clung to him afterwards.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re very welcome; thank you,” said Luke. “But I think you should go back to your own bed.”

“I... yes,” said Miss Compton.

 

oOoOo

 

“Oh, good, you are feeling better, Miss Compton,” said Lucille, at breakfast. “I heard you groaning in the night, and I wondered if you had eaten something that disagreed with you, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come and see if I could help.”

“There was nothing you could have done, my dear child,” said Miss Compton, flushing. “I do feel very well, this morning, however.” She glanced at Luke.

“You are welcome to come to me if the rich dinners lie heavy,” said Luke, gravely.

 

It was a pleasant affaire, and Luke found it relaxing.  He even felt genial enough to show Lucille the huge windmill at Laramie when they stopped there.

“It looks like a big target with an arrow in the bull,” giggled Lucille.

“The flights of the ‘arrow’ catch the wind and turn the many vanes that make up what you call the target to face the wind,” said Luke. “It rotates around the pumping-house building, and raises water from a deep well, to water the locomotives, so they always have steam.”

“Why does it need replacing?” asked  Lucille. “I don’t understand how it works.”

“Because the water is heated up until it makes steam, and that steam goes in jets to turn the engine, which turns the wheels. But steam is lost; you can see it coming out by the wheels, and there is also a safety-valve to vent steam so it does not build up enough pressure to explode.”

“Why would it explode? It’s only hot water.”

“Little girl, hot water is dangerous,” said Luke. “Have you never seen a kettle boil, when the steam blows leaves or feathers up in the air?  Put through narrow pipes, it has the power to push a steam locomotive by forcing the wheels to turn.  I’ll show you when we get in, using the steam from a tea kettle, which is not nearly as hot or strong as the steam in a train.”

 

Luke had no trouble making a toy windmill with a square of paper, and demonstrated how it turned in the stream of the steam from the tea, before it wilted from the wetness.

“You’ll make a wonderful father, one day,” said Miss Compton.  If her voice was a little wistful, both she and Luke pretended not to regard it.

“He’s too young, Miss Compton,” giggled Lucille. “You’d make a fine mother, though.”

“Oh, it’s too late for that, for me,” said Miss Compton.

“Perhaps one of your charges will have a lonely pa who needs a friend,” said Luke. “If the lass likes you well enough as a mother.”

Lucille looked thoughtfully at Miss Compton.

She could, thought Luke, go further and do worse than Mr. Bunce.

 

oOoOo

 

They must all vacate the train at Cheyenne, as the women must change to another line. Luke left them in the hotel, waiting for their connection, shaking hands with Lucille, and kissing Miss Compton’s hand. She managed to smile at him.

“Fare well,” said Luke, deliberately separating a meaningless word meaning ‘goodbye,’ in order to make it mean what it said. He turned away and walked firmly out of their lives, towards the livery stable, looking forward to being reunited with Blackwind.

The horse was not going to be happy about being left behind, so Luke bought him an apple as a peace offering.  He could hardly explain to the poor beast that it was preferable to spending several days in a moving stable.

He did not expect to see Ida again so soon.  But he had no sooner started for the livery stable than he heard his name called.

“Mr. Sokolov! Mr. Sokolov!” Ida’s young voice rang out. Luke turned, and the coltish figure of a seeming young boy ran up to him. It was Ida. And her face was horribly bruised.