Miss Annie And The Chief (7 page)

BOOK: Miss Annie And The Chief
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“He has great
wisdom.”
 
Annie believes.

Mark teases
Annie.
 
“Well, he did call me an
honorable warrior.”

Annie beams at
Mark’s teasing.
  
“Yes he
did.”

Mark admires
Annie’s beautiful smile.
 
“I
imagine it has been hard to smile again.”

“Your kindness
has helped.”
 
Annie whispers.

“That's good to
hear.”

They reach
Selma's place.
 
Mark hands the
basket to Annie.
 
“I was wondering,
Mrs. Landon, if I may escort you to church tomorrow morning.”
 
Mark asks.

“I will look
forward to it.”
 
Annie says
politely, trying to mask her delight in his offer.

“As will
I.”
 
Mark tips his hat to Annie.

*****

The next
morning, in the town church, the congregation stands singing a hymn during the
Sunday morning service.

Annie, dressed
in her Sunday best, stands next to Captain Caldwell, who is dressed in his Army
best.
 

When the hymn is
finished the congregation take their seat in the pews.

Annie and Mark
sit next to each other.
 
So close
their bodies just barely touch.
 

The minister
reads from the Bible. "Having then gifts differing according to the grace
that is given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, let us prophesy in
proportion to our faith; or ministry, let us use it in our ministering; he
who teaches, in teaching; he who exhorts, in exhortation; he who gives, with
liberality; he who leads, with diligence; he who shows mercy, with
cheerfulness.
 
Let love be without
hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil. Cling to what is good. Be kindly affectionate to
one another with brotherly love, in honor giving preference to one
another..."

Neither Mark nor
Annie hear the words. Their physical proximity to each other has more of an
effect on them, which they try to deny by pretending to listen intently to the
minister.

The service is
now over.
 
Outside of the church
the minister greets the parishioners as they leave.
 
Mark and Annie approach the minister.

“Captain
Caldwell, what a nice surprise seeing you in church this morning,” the minister
exclaims.

“I wanted to
escort Mrs. Landon to church her first time. She is new to town.”
 
Mark nearly stammers.

“How
thoughtful,” the minister says as he turns his attention to Annie.
 
He shakes her hand.
 
“Welcome to Beaver Creek, Mrs. Landon.”

“Thank you,
Reverend.”

Mark escorts
Annie down the street.
  
She
holds his arm.
 
Even this polite
gesture and connection is filled with sparks.

“You don't
attend church, Captain?”
 
Annie
asks.

“Not as
faithfully as I suppose I should.”

“I appreciate your
thoughtfulness.”

“My motives I
must confess…” Before Mark has a chance to explain that he just wanted to spend
time with her, Emmet Howes approaches in his wagon.
 
Annie's horse is tied to the back.
 
Annie is pleased to see Emmet, and her horse.

“How do, Miss
Annie.”
 
Emmet calls, pleased to
see her.

“Mr. Howes, it
is good to see you again,” she says with genuine affection.

“I thought I'd
check in, see how yer fairin'.”

“I'm doing well,
thank you. How was the trip to Santa Fe?”

“Once we got
there, all them transendlists started quoting them respectively brothers at
each other. I couldn't get out of there fast enough.”

Mark laughs.

“Is yer aunt
still in the slammer?”
 
Emmet asks.

“She is.”
 
Annie relates.

“I was wondering
if you'd be needing a ride. I'm heading back east.
 
Maybe not so far as Pennsylvania, but somewhere more
suitable for a lady such as yerself. I'm bettin' St. Louis is the town fer
you.”
 
Emmet offers.

Annie is touched
by Emmet's thoughtfulness, which isn't lost on Mark.
 
She seems to be thinking about the offer.
 
Mark looks deeply at Annie, his
remarkable eyes showing care - and more.
 
“Please don't leave,” he entreats quietly.

Annie turns her
attention to Emmet.
 
“Mr. Howes,
would you like to stay for Sunday dinner?”

“I surely do,
I've been missin' yer cookin'.”

Annie looks at
Mark. “Captain, would you like to stay for Sunday dinner?”

“I would indeed,
thank you.”

*****

Annie, Mark and
Emmet are seated at the dining table enjoying a Sunday supper feast.
 
Mark is well mannered while Emmet, wearing
his napkin as a bib, heartily shovels the food in his mouth.

“May I get you
anything, Captain.” Annie asks.

“The salt
please.”
 
Mark answers.

Annie picks up
the salt shaker and hands it to Mark.
 
As she hands it to him, their fingers touch. The shaker exchange and
touch linger as their eyes lock and sparks fly.

Emmet stops the
food shoveling long enough to witness the connection between Annie and the
captain.
 
“I surely could get used
to having a dinner like this nightly, how's about you, capt'n?”
 
Emmet injects.

“Yes.
 
I could.”
 
Mark replies, looking directly at Annie.
 
Annie’s cheeks flush, she looks down at
her plate.

“I reckon you'll
be wanting to stay in Beaver Creek for a spell, Miss Annie.”
 
Emmet concludes.

“For a
spell.”
 
Annie smiles.
 
Mark looks relieved, and pleased, to
hear this.

“Then you'll be
needin' a horse.
 
You should have
yer steed back.”
 
Emmet offers.

“I gave him to
you as part of our agreement.”
 
Annie asserts.

“I'm thinkin' he
wants to be back with you.
 
Won't
stop naying.”

“Thank you, Mr.
Howes. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

“Not as much as
I appreciate your cooking, that's fer sure.”

After Sunday supper,
the good-byes having already been said, Mark and Annie watch as Emmet drives
his wagon down the main street of Beaver Creek.

They stand with
Annie's horse. Annie pets her horse's nose, happy to be reunited with her pet,
her friend.

“It's nice to
have you back, boy.”
 
Annie says to
the horse.

Mark pats the
horse's mane.
 
“Fine animal.”

“Caleb, my
husband, gave him to me before he went to war. He said when he returned he'd
teach me to ride him.”

“I could teach
you.”

Annie continues
to look at her horse, shy to lock eyes with Mark.
 
“I would like that.”

“There are
several hours of light left to this day and I bet you're a quick learner.”
 
Mark encourages.

For the next
couple of hours Mark shows Annie how to saddle the horse and how to mount the
horse.
 
Mark rides his horse
alongside Annie's horse, guiding her and instructing her how to handle the
horse.

Annie, now
comfortable and pretty confident on the horse, rides with Mark in the beautiful
countryside.
 
They gallop along a
river with the Rockies looming in the background.
 
Her smile and the joy in her eyes have been growing all
afternoon, which is not lost on Mark.

They return to
town and ride to the front of Selma's house.
 
It's now close to dark out.
 
Mark dismounts and then helps Annie dismount from her horse.
 
He has her in his arms.
 
Both of them desperately want to kiss;
the longing, the ache, the need, the desire is palpable.
 
But before their lips can touch, Annie
pulls back.

“I'll see to
your horse.”
 
Mark says.
 
“Thank you for the delicious dinner.”

“Thank you for
the nice afternoon and the lessons.”
 
Annie replies.
 
“You are a
good teacher.”

Mark looks
intently, tenderly, at Annie.
 
“I
hope it was me who put the joy back in your eyes.”

Annie looks
away, it would be too much for her to meet his gaze when she replies with a
whisper.
 
“It was.”

She hurries into
Selma’s house.
 
In the kitchen
Annie cleans up from the Sunday feast while packaging a picnic basket of
leftovers.
 
As she completes her
tasks a flurry of thoughts rush through her mind and are captured in her
expression; thoughts ranging from guilt over feeling as if she's betraying her
husband to joy in how Mark makes her feel.

A short time
later Annie leaves Selma’s place, carrying the picnic basket, and walks towards
the jail.
  
As she crosses the
street, she hears - and sees - three loud and obnoxious cowboys riding into
town.

She quickens her
pace.
 
One of the cowboys hollers
something at her, but she ignores it and hurries to the jail.
   
The three cowboys hoot and
holler as they park their horses by the saloon.

Annie enters the
jail.
 
Selma is seated at the
marshal's desk.
 
She's involved in
a game of chess with the marshal. Both are focused on the game.

“You're out of
your cell.”
 
Annie notices.

“I've been
released on good behavior.”
 
Selma
shares as she makes a move.

“I promised to
pardon her if she wins,” the marshal relates as he makes a move.

“Really?” Annie
thinks the marshal is serious.

“We're lettin'
her out because the theatre folks arrive tomorrow,” the marshal elaborates.

Selma makes a
move to win the game.
 
“I
win!”
 
Selma exclaims.

“You wanna go
back to that cell?”
 
The marshal
asks, frustrated that he lost the game.

“No. Besides,
you're going to need the room.”
 
Selma points out.

“Need the room
for what?”
 
Annie inquires.

“For whom.”
 
Selma corrects.

“The Rush
Brothers.
 
They're coming to town.
Carl, Dick and Glen.
 
They're
no-good, drunken, lying, cheatin', bully Texans,” the marshal explains.
 

“I believe they
have arrived.”
 
Annie shares.

Inside the
saloon Roy tickles the ivory.
 
Carl, Dick and Glen have entered and have taken over a poker table.
 
They are loud, cocky and rude.
 
There is nothing remotely redeemable in
any one of them.
 
The brothers
holler for the saloon girls to bring them whiskey and beer.
 
Glen lustfully eyes Clara.
 
This unsettles her.
 
She hurries to the bar.

One of the
older, seasoned saloon girls takes Clara aside.
 
“You stay clear of that one. He's got the calamity and he
plays rough,” the saloon girl warns Clara as she nods towards Glen.

*****

Annie walks
through a field of flowers with Chief Red Hawk.

“My aunt was
released from jail last night. She was the one who had been teaching the
scouts.”
 
Annie tells the chief.

“Why was she in
jail?” The chief is curious.

“She helped a
wanted man escape from the authorities.”

“Why would she
help him?”

“Because she
loves him, and she believes that he is not a bad person.”

“Why is he
thought to be a bad person?”

“Because he has
killed men.”

“He must have
killed white men.”

“Why do you say
that?”

“Because if he
killed Indians, it wouldn't have mattered.”

“I hate to
believe that's true.”
 
Annie sighs.

“When I was a
younger man, we had made winter camp up north past the Platte River.
 
Our camp was attacked one night while
my people slept.
 
I was away with a
hunting party.
 
When we returned,
we found many of our women and children dead.
 
They weren't just dead, they were cut apart. Their body
parts were paraded down the main treet of the nearby town.
 
This was the fate of my young wife and
my two children.
 
Nothing happened
to those white men.”

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