Melinda Heads West
Robyn Corum
Avon, Massachusetts
This edition published by Crimson Romance
an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.
Blue Ash, Ohio 45242
Copyright © 2012 by Robyn Corum ISBN 10: 1-4405-5854-X
ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5854-2
eISBN 10: 1-4405-5855-8
eISBN 13: 978-1-44055855-9
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.
Cover art © 123rf.com
This book is dedicated to my children, Melanie, Tanner and Riley, and to my son-in-law, Art.
I’m so glad God gave you to me.
Acknowledgments
They say it takes a village to raise a child. It seems to take at least that to write a book.
I’ve been blessed with folks who not only read this work in progress, but offered encouragement and praise along the way, deserved or not. Among those who have earned an extra special thank you are my friends, Avril Borthiry and Kim Bussey.
No beginning writer could be blessed with a bigger fan club. Thanks to all for the support. Especially my mom, Judy Shelton, and my hubby and white knight, Reggie Corum. You make my heart smile on a regular basis.
Hugs
and
a one-handed backflip to my dearest cheerleaders: Mary Ponder, Brenda Holsonback, Barbara Dutton, Susan Moore, Dena Nagel, Margaret Suggs, Cindy Davidson and Jan Bailey. You build me up when I am weak and make me think I can climb mountains.
Finally, thanks to my editor, Jennifer Lawler, for taking a chance. Let’s hope it pans out.
The stagecoach bumped along the narrow gulch road. Mindy’s head and shoulder throbbed from the number of times she’d been slammed against the hard wooden door beside her, but she refused to allow herself to lean against the unwashed, tobacco-stained
person
next to her. Pinching her lips, she straightened in the seat, adjusting the green paisley cotton skirt she wore.
Patience and faith will get you through anything
, Mindy reminded herself with a measured breath.
Lifting the oiled leather curtain to peer out the window, she jerked swiftly back, covering her mouth in revulsion. “There’s … there’s … ” Mindy started, staring at the other passengers in the cramped quarters. She was unlucky enough to be riding along with four unwashed males. Patience and faith … patience and faith …
“Yeah, we know … ” said one of the men lazily. “You don’t particularly want to look out the coach on that side, ma’am. We’re traveling over the Coosa Gully. Nothing but a sheer drop off for about three miles.”
Mindy’s stomach heaved, and she fought to control it. This task wasn’t supposed to be so difficult. All she had to do was pick up a deed to a property. Yes, said property happened to be located three states away from her home in Mississippi. And yes, it was true that she’d never been more than twenty miles away from home before this trip. But it had all sounded so simple!
Yet she’d been poked, prodded, accosted by strange men, lied to, swindled, left by the side of a road only tumbleweeds traveled with any frequency, and had almost been arrested by the crookedest sheriff that ever lived.
If she survived this trip — and that wasn’t a certainty — Mindy vowed she could handle anything else life would throw at her. Certainly though, she soothed herself, the worst was behind her!
That is, if the coach didn’t plunge off this rocky path; if she didn’t die from the fine stink of her fellow passengers; if she could hold her rolling stomach. There were only thirty-five more miles between her and The Blue Saloon, where the deed awaited; she could hold out that long or die trying. And in that case, Mindy decided, pinching her small lips together tightly, she planned to have her dead body delivered to the saloon, just for spite.
She almost smiled, but then caught one of the men across from her begin to grin back. Shooting him a mean look, she turned away.
• • •
Mindy had been asleep for some while when the commotion started. The coach was rocking and bouncing like a wild buck.
She jumped in her seat, screaming, thrashing her arms for something to hold on to — oddly enough, the other passengers didn’t seem as repugnant now. “Oh, mercy!” Mindy cried. “We’ve done it! We’re goin’ over! Do something! Do something!” One hand locked onto the shirt of the man to her left, and she pulled him around to face her. “I’m not gonna die this way, you hear? I ain’t ever climbed a tree! I ain’t been married! I ain’t been kissed!”
Mindy’s short life flashed before her eyes, just as she’d always heard happened in moments like these: splashing in the creek as a child, going to church services with her family, disobeying her parents, picking on her little brothers, playing mean tricks on her sisters. Suddenly, she was full of remorse and in the middle of a heartfelt prayer when she heard the man across from her clear his throat a second time.
“Ur, ma’am? Like I say, we’ve lost a wheel, is all. I reckon you can save them prayers.”
Mindy paused, hands uplifted. She opened one eye. Now that she focused a bit, it was clear that the stagecoach was easing to a controlled stop. Perhaps the driver could be convinced to allow her to stay behind when the coach was repaired. She had managed on her own before, she could do it again.
As the hot, red flames of embarrassment climbed her body, Mindy tried to think back over what she had done, had said, but she couldn’t remember. Suffice it to say, the yellow in her had come out waving banners.
“If a single one of you says a word,” Mindy said, staring at each man in turn, “I’ll scratch your eyes out.” She hoped she sounded fierce enough.
Mindy sat on a blistering rock beneath the only shade to be found, a scrawny little tree that had decided to die long ago, but was taking its time about it. Fanning herself with a limp sheet of newspaper scavenged from the coach, sweat ran from the top of her head to the tip of her toes.
The men had worked on the wheel for hours, it seemed. They had fumed and kicked and fussed and had almost come to blows about the best way to fix the blame thing. Mindy didn’t think it was a good sign that they were now sitting together joking and laughing, while the wheel lay forgotten. She struggled to her feet in the heat and walked over to them.
“How much longer ’til we can get going?” she asked, weary of the day, the heat, and even the words it took to speak.
The men grew silent and swapped glances.
After a moment, one stood and removed his cap. Mindy was impressed until she saw the head of hair beneath it. She fairly thought she could see things crawling from where she stood. She took a dainty step backwards.
“Well, therein lies the problem, ma’am, as my ol’ preacher used to say. This here wheel can’t be fixed. She’s had it, that’s the plain truth. We’re at an impasse.”
Mindy raised one eyebrow at his language. “Imm-passs?”
“Oh! I’m sorry, ma’am! I mean to say, we ain’t going anywhere in this here stagecoach. Not today.” The men beside him grunted and made rude noises. One kicked at the wheel with a worn, brown boot. Dust flew, swirling into the thick air.
“Oh.” Mindy gathered her thoughts. A drop of unladylike perspiration traveled down her back. “My.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Mindy chewed on her lip. “What is the procedure in a time like this?”
“Well, to tell you the truth, there ain’t one. This ain’t supposed to happen. But we figured out a plan of sorts. Gibb, there, the driver,” the man indicated another individual wearing a tan shirt and dusty brown pants who nodded, “he’s gonna take all the horses and go on without us. He’ll send back help.”
Mindy’s eyes grew wide. “You’re joking!”
Every cowboy found something interesting to look at. Only one, with black eyes, met her gaze.
The appointed speaker continued. “No, ma’am. That’s the only way we can have any hope of getting help. There’s not enough horses for the seven of us, and there’s a bundle in bank stock and bills up there in that lockbox. Gibb’s required to stay with the box. If we send anybody with him, it’s a sure bet he’d be risking his life. Money does strange things to the best of people. The only thing for it is to send him by himself, and hope he don’t meet anybody on the way.”
“Surely I could ride along with him!”
“We gave that some thought, too,” the man said, looking around for support. He turned back with a sigh when he saw the others had stony, distant gazes. “But that’d mean Gibb’d be traveling with two treasures, if you catch my meaning, ma’am. Sorry for my implication, ma’am.”
“Yes, yes! So what do the rest of us do? Twiddle our thumbs? Recite nursery rhymes?” Mindy’s voice rose. “I forgot my knitting!” She was starting to see red — and was becoming a little less fond of the word “ma’am” with every passing moment.
“No, ma’am!” the man replied with a gruff laugh, slapping his hat against a huge thigh. Mindy’s teeth grated. “We’re goin’ to start walkin’. We’ll get a good ways before dark, anyhow!”
Mindy stared at the man for a minute. At his happy, hopeful face. She brought her hands around in front of her and clasped them tightly. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Patience … and … faith …
“I … am going back … to my rock now. I need to sit a moment,” she said slowly. “Excuse me.”
“Sure! Sure!” he said as she turned, whipping her skirt. “Don’t you worry none. We’ve still got to get them horses loaded, and get ol’ Gibb on his way. We’ll let you know when it’s time to … ”
The old cowboy talked louder as she marched away, but Mindy shut him out, seeking the solace of the rock and her shade, such as it was.
Simple!
Why had she ever thought this trip might be simple? Well,
she
was the one who had thought she might want to be left stranded the next time the coach stopped!
Mindy was rethinking the demand to bring along her traveling bag.
