Amandas's Mail Order Cowboy: The Story of A Mail Order Bride and Her Mail Order Husband (Mail Order Brides Book 14) (2 page)

chapter Two

The Raid

Rocking R Ranch 1876

Jim Russell and his twelve year old son, Seth, were in the barn milking the cows when the attack began. Twenty Sioux warriors, their faces covered with garish war paint swept down the hill in behind the ranch.

When the first cries of the attackers were heard, Jim grabbed his rifle, ordered his son into the hay loft, and scrambled after him up the ladder. He began firing at the raiders through the open door of the loft.

His only ammunition was the cartridges loaded in the magazine of the Henry repeater. Torches were thrown into the barn, setting it ablaze. If they stayed in the loft, they would be burned alive, so Jim and Seth scrambled back down the ladder. His empty weapon useless, Jim grabbed a pitch fork, determined to fight to save his family.

The father and son did not last long, cut down in the shadows of the flames. Two Sioux warriors counted coup on the two.

Cora Russell had been in the kitchen preparing breakfast for her family when she heard the ruckus in the yard. She grabbed the Navy Colt revolver Jim kept in the kitchen. She went through the door and began shooting. Struck in the head by a tomahawk wielded by a mounted warrior, she fell at the foot of the steps.

The raiders drove the livestock out of the corral and rode back in the direction from which they had come. For some unknown reason, they did not burn the house.

* * *

Rance Kendall, the owner of the Lazy K, and two of his hands, hazed the twenty three strays ahead of them toward the main herd. “I think that’s the last of them,” Rance said.

“I hope so,” his foreman, Clay McAllister said. “I’ve been in the saddle so long my sores have sores.”

Rance stood in his stirrups and pointed toward the Rocking R ranch of Jim Russell. “Clay, Is that smoke I’m seeing?”

“Sure looks like it. Want me to check it out?”

“I’ll come with you. These fellers are going back in the herd all right,” Rance said, and spurred his horse in the direction of his friend’s ranch.

As they got closer, they could see the house was intact. “Looks like it’s just the barn,” Rance yelled so he could be heard above the sound of hooves of the horses.

The first body he saw belonged to Cora Russell, lying at the foot of the steps to the back porch. He dismounted and dropped the reins over the hitching post. When he looked around, he saw the bodies of Jim and Seth where they had fallen at the barn door. Both had been scalped.

The gory sight sickened Rance. He had known Jim since they both went to the same one room school. Cora had been a mail order bride from back east.

Rance had considered going down the same path his friend had taken, since a shortage of marriageable women existed throughout the Montana Territory. Reluctant to deal with strangers, he could never bring himself to write the letter. Now thirty-two years old, he resigned himself to the life of a bachelor.

When he checked the Henry repeater that had been Jim’s pride and joy, he found the magazine empty. His friend had fought on after he had run out of bullets; the bloodied pitchfork by his side spoke of the fight he had put up. The Indians had carried their dead away, leaving no evidence of their losses behind.

“The baby,” Rance said suddenly. “I don’t see the baby. I hope to God the Indians didn’t take the baby.” He ran toward the house, and went into the kitchen. There, he could see the makings of the meal Cora had been preparing.

Rance searched the house, looking for the two year old daughter of the Russell’s. He entered the bedroom, and heard a whimpering from beneath the bed. He knelt on his hands and knees and looked underneath, and into the frightened blue eyes of a blonde haired little girl.

“It’s all right, Abigail,” he said, making his voice as soft as possible. “You can come out. No one’s going to hurt you.” She shook her head.

He lay on the floor and put his hand, palm up under the bed. Do you know who I am, honey?” She shook her head.

“I’m Mr. Kendall. I’m your next door neighbor. Will you hold my hand?” She shook her head.

“I’m not going to go off and leave you here under the bed,” he said. “We’re going to make sure no one hurts you. I promise.”

“Clay, would you go over to the ranch and get Mrs. Martinez? Maybe she will come out for her. I don’t want to just pull her out. It would probably just scare her more.”

“Abigail, I’m going to go into the kitchen; if you want to come out, it will be okay. Mr. McAllister is going to get Mrs. Martinez. If you need anything, come into the kitchen, and I’ll get it for you. I’m going to leave the door open for you.”

Another thirty minutes elapsed before Mrs. Martinez came into the house. “Where is she,” Mrs. Martinez asked.

“Her name is Abigail. I don’t know how much she saw of what happened, if anything. It’s pretty bad out there. If you get her to come out, bring her out the front door, and we’ll take her home with us. Her family here is all gone.”

“Yes sir, Señor. Kendall. I won’t scare her.”

“She’s in the bedroom. When I came out, she was under the bed. She’s either two or three years old.”

Mrs. Martinez came back to the living room carrying the little girl, her arms wrapped tightly around Mrs. Martinez’s neck and her head buried in her shoulder.

She carried Abigail to the wagon, where Clay assisted her in climbing on the seat. The wagon left the yard, headed for the Lazy K. Rance, and one of the hands who had returned with Clay, prepared to bury the three members of the Russell family that had been killed by the marauding Sioux.

He gathered the clothing belonging to the little girl, and put them into a valise he found in a closet. He added the doll, he found on her bed, and a family bible.

chapter Three

What Do We Do About Abigail?

The Lazy K…

Consuela carried Abigail into the Lazy K ranch house.

It took four hours for them to get the graves dug and the bodies of Abigail’s parents and her brother buried Rance read from the Bible. They filled the graves and returned home.

Consuela was sitting in the rocking chair in the living room rocking the small girl back and forth, humming a nameless tune. “Has she said anything?” he asked.

Consuela said, “Nothing. She hasn’t made a sound, not even crying. It is very sad.”

“What do we do about her?” Rance asked Consuela.

“Has she no family?” Consuela asked.

“Not that I know of. Her mother was from back east somewhere. She came out here to marry Jim. I believe I heard Jim say he was from Ohio, but I don’t know where. I know they have no relatives locally. I’ll go over there tomorrow, and see what I can find. Maybe there will be papers of some sort.

“I gathered up her clothes and brought them. She’ll stay with us until we find out something. I’ll put them in my old room.

“I just remembered. I found this on her bed, and thought it might help.” He took the doll from the bag of clothes, and held it out. The little girl’s eyes lit up.

“Look what I brought, Abigail,” he said and held the doll out. She took the doll and clutched it to her chest.

“That was good, Señor Rance,” Consuela said.

“Do I need to get someone to help take care of her?”

“No, Señor. I will do it.”

* * *

Rance looked through all of the drawers, under the mattresses and everywhere he could think of for any kind of information that might point to relatives of the Russell’s. He didn’t find anything, except for a Bible that had probably belonged to Cora. The only writing was that of the name, Cora Beckendorf.

He found the homestead papers and the deed to the ranch. Jim had proved it up as a homestead, and lived there long enough to obtain the title.

He took the papers and the Bible with him and rode in to Cheyenne. He always had at least one of the ranch hands with him when he went into Cheyenne, as a precaution against the possibility of encountering Sioux warriors.

He stopped first at the sheriff’s office and told him about the raid on the Rocking R. “That’s the second one this month,” the sheriff said. “The Cavalry needs to do something.”

“What they need to do is to keep the settlers out of Indian Territory. I’d fight too, if someone tried to move onto my land,” Rance said.

“Well, that’s not going to happen,” the sheriff” said. “President Grant would catch forty kinds of hell if he tried to stop them.”

“”You’re right about that; but Red Cloud isn’t going to give in either,” Rance said.

“You’ll report this?” he asked the sheriff.”

“I’ll report it, for all of the good it will do,” said the sheriff.

The next stop for Rance was the church, where he wanted to talk to the pastor, Clem Hutchison. The pastor knew the Russell family, but not as well as he knew Rance. They were sometimes worshippers in the church. He told Clem and Margaret about the Indian raid and the fate of the Russell family. Right now, “Consuela is taking care of Abigail, but I’m not sure what I should do.”

Margaret Hutchison, put her hand to her mouth, “That’s horrible,” she said.

“I went through everything I could find in the house, but I didn’t find anything that might tell about relatives,” he said.

“Well,” Clem said, “the church has an orphanage…”

“No,” Rance interrupted. “Abigail is not going to an orphanage.”

“I would say we could take care of her, but it would just be a temporary thing. The parsonage is too small for any more on a permanent basis,” Margaret said.

Clem said, “I could ask around and see if any of the members would like to have her.”

“Clem, she’s not some piece of baggage waiting for somebody to claim her. She’s been through enough. We’ll keep her at the Lazy K. If Consuela needs help, I’ll hire someone.”

“I didn’t mean that the way you make it sound,” Clem said.

“I know. I’m sorry. I remember how I felt when Mama passed, but I had Pop and Consuela. She has no one,” Rance said.

“I need to go Laramie and see the County Clerk. I want to see what has to be done to hold the ranch in her name.” We’ll merge the herd in with ours and put the money aside for her future.”

“You’ve thought this all out, haven’t you?” Clem asked.

“Actually, I’m making it up as I go along,” Rance said.

* * *

Rance took the Union Pacific train to Laramie, where he talked to the Laramie County Clerk. The Clerk verified the Russells held a clear title to the Rocking R Ranch and there were no taxes due on it. “What do I need to do to keep someone from taking this from the girl?” he asked.

“Why don’t you talk to the Judge,” the Clerk asked. “He’s not in court right now, and should be able to see you.”

“Good, I appreciate the help,” Rance said.

“Judge,” Rance said, I’ve got this two or three year old little girl at my place. Her parents were killed by the Sioux. I’ve been through their house and can’t find anything about kinfolk. The ranch has a clear title, with no taxes owed. I want to keep it for her future. What do I need to do to protect her?”

“Would you want to be appointed her guardian?” the judge asked.

“If that’s what it takes,” Rance said.

“We can set up a trust in her name, and appoint you as the trustee and as her guardian. That should take care of the legal things. There are some statutory fees of course,” the judge said.

“I’ll pay whatever is necessary,” Rance said.

“The clerk will give you a list of the fees, and prepare the papers. I’ll sign them and it will be good to go. We can send them to the sheriff in Cheyenne, or you can come back here

“If you’d send them to the sheriff, I’d appreciate it.” Rance said.

“Fine, the clerk will give you a paper today declaring you to be her guardian. This is a fine thing you’re doing here, Mr. Kendall.”

“It’s the right thing to do,” Rance said. “I appreciate your help, Judge.”

chapter Four

The Guardian

The Lazy K that evening…

“Has she said anything?” Rance asked Consuela.

“No Señor. She will shake her head and nod, but she doesn’t say anything.”

The three of them sat at the table in the kitchen. “Are you hungry, Abby?” she asked.

She shook her head. “Would you take one bite for me?” Consuela asked.

“Let me try,” Rance said, and took Abby onto his lap. “Did you know if you don’t eat, you might get sick?”

She shook her head. “I’m not going to make you eat if you don’t want to. Is it all right if I eat?” he asked. She nodded.”

“Is it all right if I eat what’s on your plate? I don’t want to waste it.” The little girl looked at him with a solemn expression as he took a bite. “Consuela, will you help me eat this so we don’t waste it?”

Consuela scooped a small amount of the food with her spoon. “It’s good, isn’t it, Señor Rance?”

“It is. If we don’t eat it, I’ll take it out and feed it to the pigs, they will eat anything.” He handed the spoon to Abby. “Would you hold this for me, please?” he asked Abby. She took the spoon.

Rance put a wooden box that had held rifle cartridges and put it on a chair, and slid the plate to a place on the table in front of the chair. He sat Abby on the box, and said, “Be careful, don’t fall.”

“Consuela, would you come help me for a minute please?”

They went into the infrequently used dining room, and stood by the door. After a few minutes, Abby took a tentative bite of the food. Rance smiled at Consuela. A small step, but a step nevertheless.

He said, “I’ll help you clean up,” he said to Consuela. He looked at Abby. “Would you like for me to leave your plate here?”

Abby nodded, and took another bite. Rance and Consuela sat back down and ate. Abby took a few more bites and laid her spoon down.

He lifted Abby from the cartridge box and carried her into the living room. He sat on his oversized chair. It had been one of his father’s few extravagances.

“Abby, did your mother tell you not to talk?” Rance asked. She nodded her head. “Did she tell you to be quiet?”

Another nod. He began rocking, with the little girl in his arms. “Consuela?” he called.

She came in from the kitchen. “She wet herself,” he mouthed.

Consuela nodded her understanding. “Come with Aunt Consuela, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

They had decided Consuela would use Rance’s old room, and Abby would sleep in there too. After she changed her, and the wet dress, she came to the door.

“Her mother told her to be quiet and not to talk. She’s doing as she was told, and not talking,” Rance said to Consuela.

When Abby fell asleep, Consuela carried her into the bedroom and placed her on the bed. She covered her, and sat for a while watching her sleep.

She left the door open and went back to the kitchen, where Rance was having a cup of coffee. “She’s asleep, probably for the night.”

“I don’t know how we’re going to tell her that her Mama and Papa are gone and won’t be coming back, Rance said.

“I don’t know either,” Consuela said.

“We are going to have to be very careful with her,” Rance said.

“Si Señor.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get someone to help?” he asked.

“For me? No,” Consuela said. “For you, yes. You need someone.”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“No, Señor. You need someone to love you.

“You love me don’t you?” he asked.

“It is not the same.”

Rance was asleep, when he heard the muffled sound of sobbing. He went to the door of his old bedroom, where he could hear his old cook and housekeeper crooning a lullaby to the sobbing Abby. He returned to his room without disturbing them.

The next morning…

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

“She woke up crying two times, but went back to sleep. I’m all right,” Consuela said. “May God forgive me, but I told her something that… how you say it? It was untrue. I said her Mama and Papa were real sick and had to go away.”

Abby gradually relaxed over the next few weeks and would crawl into Rance’s lap if he was in the big chair in the living room, and she no longer woke up crying in the middle of the night.

A state of normality graced the ranch… until the day three Indians came to the door. Rance had made it a habit to give them a few head of cattle for food, rather than having them steal from him. Abby saw them through the screen door and ran screaming from the kitchen into the bedroom. She crawled under the bed and wouldn’t come out until Rance came home and convinced her everything was all right.

He could feel her trembling when he put his hand under the bed and began talking softly to her. She put her little hand into his, and allowed herself to be pulled out. Her eyes were wide and unblinking as she looked wildly about the room. He took her into his arms and continued talking to her. He sat in the rocking chair and held her close until the shaking stopped.

“It broke my heart to see her like that,” he told Consuela. “She was terrified. She needs someone other than a man,” he said.

“She loves you Señor, but she needs a mama, just like you need la ésposa.”

“Where would I find one of those, Consuela? There aren’t any that I’ve seen.”

After church…

Since Consuela was Catholic, she didn’t attend church with Rance. After the service, Rance sought out Clem and asked if he had a few minutes.

“Clem, Cora Russell told me once she was a mail order bride. Do you know anything about them?” Rance asked.

“We have a couple in the congregation, as a matter of fact. I’ll give them your name and leave it up to them whether they want to talk about it,” Clem said,

“I’d appreciate it,” Rance said.

“Excuse me, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Clem said. When he returned, Cal Pierce, who owned the only ranch in the area larger than the Lazy K, and his wife Jennie, was with him.

“Rance, you know Cal Pierce and Jennie, don’t you?”

“Yes of course. How are you?” he asked.

“Clem gave us your name and said you had some questions about The Matrimonial News,” Cal said. Maybe we can help you out?”

“That’s how you two met?” Rance stammered, aware he was embarrassing himself.

“Yes,” Jennie said, in the softest voice he had ever heard. “I was a mail order bride, although we did it backwards.”

“Why don’t we talk about it over lunch?” Cal said.

“If you don’t mind, I would appreciate it,” Rance said.

“We’ll meet you at the café in thirty minutes,” Cal said.

“Good. I’m looking forward to it. Thank you.”

What a surprise… I would never have guessed it.”
he thought.