Ryder (Prairie Grooms, Book Two) (18 page)

He brought the rifle and
a few other things as well, and told her about setting traps and snares to catch game as they rode. She was fascinated by it and asked a lot of questions, even at the risk of sounding silly.  “But why ever would anyone want to wear a raccoon on their head?”

Ryder laug
hed. “Lots of folks do. Some men wear bear skins, while others have made use of a coyote or wolf.”

“Good Heavens!”

“Don’t worry, we ain’t gonna hunt for none of that. For now we’ll just stick with rabbits.”

“Thank g
oodness for that,” she muttered.

They
headed for the tree line and once there, rode parallel to it for a time.  Finally Ryder brought Banjo to a stop and dismounted. “C’mon, Sugar. Let’s see if you’re a natural.”

She let him help her down, not used to dismounting in such a un-lady like manner, and followed him into the woods. She didn’t speak, not knowing if she should, and watched Ryder pick his way along ahead of her. He’d turn now and then, smile, and move on.  She would smile back not simply to return it, but out of gratitude. Traversing through the woods was so much easier in buckskins than a dress.

He stopped up short and she almost tripped over him. “Oh!” she gasped.

“Hush,” he whispered and pulled her down into the foliage.

“What is it?” she whispered back.

He pointed, and she followed his gaze to a beautiful sight.  A doe and her fawn were walking through the woods in the distance.  It was all Constance could do not to stand up and get a better look. She’d never seen anything so lovely.  Ryder took her hand, squeezed it, and looked into her eyes. He smiled and nothing more, then looked back to the animals as they continued on their way through the forest. When they were gone, he stood. “I didn’t want to disturb them,” he whispered.

“I see,” she said.

He put a hand on her shoulder and drew her close. “Listen,” he whispered into her ear.

“To what?”

“Everything.”

Constance stood very still, and did as he said.  There was nothing at first but the sound of birds over-head. But soon she noticed other things.  She could hear a chirp that didn’t come from a bird, and when she sought it out, saw that it was a chipmunk in a tree behind them.  Another sound caught her attention, and she realized a breeze was blowing through the tree-tops above them, yet nothing stirred where they stood. It was then other sounds came to her. Water, the soft snap of a twig, a dead branch falling from a tree at least thirty yards away, and Ryder’s heart beating in his chest. That sound caught her attention most of all. She put her hand to it, and looked at him.

“See what ya can hear when ya listen?” he whispered with a grin. He kissed her, sending a chill up her spine and setting her nerves on
fire. She felt more alive in that kiss than she ever had in her life. When he broke the kiss he nuzzled her neck and again whispered into her ear. “See how much better everything is out here when ya listen and pay attention to it?”

She did, he was right
.. So much so it was almost magical. “Ryder,” she breathed.

“
Shhhh, hush now, Sugar,” he whispered, and kissed her again. Every nerve, every molecule that made up her being, ignited. She clutched his arms and moaned against his mouth. He again broke the kiss, his breathing ragged and looked into her eyes, as if trying to fuse them together. “I ain’t said it yet, I know. Maybe cause I’m not good with words and don’t talk as fancy as August or Seth.”

“Say what?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  He took a deep breath, and swallowed hard. “I love ya. I … I mean, I love
you
.”

She stifled a giggle. “I understood the first time, you don’t have to change your way of talking for me.”

“I don’t?”

She shook her head. “In fact, I rather like it. It’s part of what makes you, well, you.”

He smiled and pulled her close. “Ya know, if’n we don’t get a move on, we’re never gonna get us any rabbits.”

“I could stand here with you like this forever,” she said.

“I know, but Mr. Turner might come get his mare this afternoon, so I need to be back just in case.”

She stood on
tip-toe, and kissed him on the nose. “Right then, let’s go.”

He smiled, took her hand,
and together they went hunting.

Fourteen

Over the next week Ryder taught Constance more than she could have ever imagined. Hunting rabbits, skinning rabbits (Ewwww! But she did it!) cooking rabbits, and then he moved on to squirrels.  But when he got to snakes, she balked.

“No! Absolutely not! Oh my Heavens! No!”

“But they’s just little ol’ snakes, Sugar. They can’t hurt ya … much.”

“They most certainly can!  Harrison told me all about your country’s shaking snakes!”

  He sat back in his chair, and scratched his head. “Shakin’ what?”

She got up from the kitchen
table and snatched the plates from its surface. They’d just finished eating squirrel for lunch, and the thought of eating snake for dinner almost did her in. “You heard me, vibrating, shaking, whatever it is!”

“Ohhhh, you mean a rattler.”

“That’s the one. Very dangerous as I understand it.”

“Also tasty.”

Constance shuddered with revulsion, grabbed the water bucket, and spun to face him. “No, I can’t do it. Please don’t make me.”

He studied her and sighed. “I ain’t gonna make you do nothin’ that you
don’t feel comfortable with. Maybe we’ll try huntin’ birds instead.”

She sighed in relief and started for the door. “Thank you.”

“Or we could try skunk!” he called after her as she left the cabin.

She stopped up short and blew a loose wisp of hair out of her face. “No!” she called back.  His laughter followed her all the way to the water pump.  She muttered to herself on the absurdity of s
kunk hunting when a movement on the prairie caught her eye.  She turned to look, but nothing was there. Returning to the water pump, she shrugged and began to fill the bucket so she could do the dishes.  Her eyes darted here and there as a nervous tingle crept up her spine and the hairs on the back of her neck rose.  Someone was out there.

She returned to the cabin
and set the bucket on the stove. “Where’s Cutty?”

Ryder looked up from his inspection of the scarf she’d been knitting. “Don’t rightly know, darlin’. He comes and goes. Haven’t seen much of him since
we finished the roof and windows.” He set her knitting down and stood. “I think he’s been tryin’ to give us a little privacy.”

She sighed. “It’s much appreciated.”

“Why you askin’ after that ol coot anyway instead of askin’ me how much I love ya?” He went to stand behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed her neck. “Ain’t I much more interestin’?” he whispered against her hair.

“You’re impossible.”

“Impossible? Me?”

“I can’t get the dishes done while you’re holding me like this.”

“I know,” he drawled.

She was about to comment when
he started to tickle her.  “Stop!” she screeched.

“What say we go pick flowers
after you get them dishes done?”

She fought to get control, but couldn’t stop laughing.  He stopped it for her with a kiss.  It became languid, and they both took their time with it. Once again, he’d kissed her senseless, and she could forgive any talk of hunting and eating rattle snakes or any other loathsome creature when he kissed her that way.

He smiled, knowing what he’d done to her, and let her go. “I think I’ll get the quilt ready, then go check on the horses.”

She nodded, starry eyed and dumbstruck, and turned back to the dishes.

When Ryder returned from the barn they headed out. It had become their routine, so long as it wasn’t raining, to go sit for a time amongst the early summer flowers of the prairie. They’d stroll a few hundred yards from the cabin, spread the quilt, and talk about where they’d been, their families, the differences between their two worlds, and of course their future together. Ryder wasn’t an educated man like the ones she knew in London. He didn’t attend Eton or Oxford, and he was no gentleman by English standards. But he was one of the kindest, gentlest, and hardiest of men she had ever met. He knew things those of the nobility would never know.  He taught her about nature, telling her the many different uses of the native plants and flowers found on the prairie. He taught her how to read people in order to understand them better, and to respect animals and the natural order of things. After all, spiders had their place in the world too.

It was a lot to take in, and that was
just the last few days!  What would her life be like with this man five, ten, twenty years from now?

She
smiled as the answer was instantaneous. Bloody-well fantastic.

* * *

  They made their way back to the cabin hand in hand, stopping once to listen to the evening crickets, before continuing on.  The prairie had such incredible beauty, and the peace Constance felt at being a part of it amazed her.  She now understood why Ryder could so easily stay away from Clear Creek for weeks at a time.  Why leave? But there came a time when it was necessary.

“I think we should mosey on over to August and your sister’s place tomorrow, pay them a little visit.”

“Really? Oh, Ryder that would be wonderful!”

“Yeah, I thought you’d like the idea. In fact, why don’t you give your husband a little ol kiss to say thank you?”

“Ohhh, you really are impossible!”

“Yeah, but you still love me,” he drawled.  He pulled her close, kissed her, then pulled away, his head cocked at a funny angle.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

“Not rightly sure.” He glanced aro
und and studied the cabin, barnyard, corral. Everything was as it should be, yet … “I wonder if ol Cutty came back.”

“
If he did he’s raiding the candy jar by now,” she said flatly.

“Sure enough, I bet that’s exactly what’s goin’ on.”

“Why do you say that?”

He looked at her. “Cause things don’t feel quite right, that
’s all. I can always tell when somethin’s out of place.  Usually happens when Cutty’s come to call.”

“You are most perceptive, my darling husband.”

“Oooo I like it when you call me, darlin’. Now I know how it must make you feel.”

She giggled as he turned and continued toward the cabin.  Once there, he listened at the door, then opened it.  She’d learned it was an instinctive action
on his part, and was glad for it.  One never knew …

The cabin was as they left it, nothing disturbed
, nothing out of place, and Ryder relaxed somewhat. But only somewhat, Constance could see it in the way he carried himself he was still wary. “Maybe Cutty is in the barn,” she suggested.

“Maybe,” Ryder agreed as he tossed the quilt on the bed. “I’d better go give him a blanket
for tonight then, still gets cold out there even though summer’s startin’.”  He got down on his knees and reached under the cot for the extra blanket he kept there.

Constance heard an odd
rattling sound just before Ryder let out a “Yeeeaaaa!” and threw himself from the cot, drawing his gun. He fired, at what Constance had no idea, and jumped to his feet. “Get back!”

“What? What is it?”

“Snake,” he said and then stood stock-still. He motioned for her to be quiet, and listened.  Nothing.

He took a broom out of the corner and after waving her to the front door, used it to drag out the biggest rattler either of them
had ever seen.  Well, the only one Constance had ever seen, but judging from the look on Ryder’s face, it must be bigger than what he was used to. “Dagnabbit,” he breathed. “This ain’t good.” He looked at his hand, grimaced, and sank onto the nearest chair.

“Oh my Lord!” Constance squeaked. “How did
that
get in here?”

Ryder scanned the cabin
as he stood. “It can’t … I don’t see how …”

Constance looked at his hand. “Ryder! You’re hurt!”

He stared at it, “Oh, yeah, so I am.” He turned to her. “You’re gonna have to help me with this …”

“Me? Oh dear Heavens, yes, of course!  What do I do?”

He pulled out his knife and was about to make an incision at the wound area when the door burst open and almost knocked Constance off her feet. A man grabbed her from behind and crushed her against his chest, a gun to her head. “Toss that knife boy, or she’s dead!”

Ryder stood, his knife still in his hand as more men filed into the cabin. Constance, positioned as she was against whom she assumed was their leader,
couldn’t tell how many.  But there were enough to make Ryder drop the knife and raise both hands in the air.