Ryder (Prairie Grooms, Book Two) (3 page)

Constance started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Ryder yelled over the wind.

“I don’t know!” she sh
outed back, her eyes bright, mouth in an open smile.

Ryder leaned forward. Naturally, his horse went faster
still.  Constance screamed in delight and held on tighter. Her reaction made him positively giddy. But now was not the time to laugh with unrestrained glee, he had to keep his horse under control and make sure he didn’t run the poor animal into the ground.

“Whoa,” he called after he sensed his horse was beginning to tire. “Whoa there.”

Constance glanced around as he brought his horse to a slow cantor, and then down to a walk. “That was incredible!  I’ve never been on a running horse before!”

Ryder smiled. “Never? You mean to tell me you’ve never let a horse stretch his legs out underneath ya?” She shook her head no and laughed again.  “Well stick with me, sugar, and you’ll learn all kinds of things.”

She giggled at that, and hugged his neck.  Her arms felt good on him, as did the arm he kept ar
ound her. Perhaps what he’d done was a foolhardy thing, but it was fun, and more importantly, his new bride liked it.

He let his ho
rse Banjo go along at a fast walk. Eventually the animal would slow the pace on his own, but right now, he was as excited as Constance, tugging on the reins and biting the bit. Ryder would have to spend more time with him, but lately, he’d been concentrating on his other horse, the one that would no doubt make him famous. In Clear Creek any way.  He wasn’t sure if folks from Oregon City would travel such a long distance to breed their mares to his stallion. But Othello was an incredible horse and already getting attention from the farms around Clear Creek and other out-lying areas. 

“How much farther?” Constance asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

“About an hour. We’ll let Banjo walk awhile before I push him again. He’s carrying two of us ya know.”

“I am aware.  How many horses do you have?”

“
We
have two.”

“Two? Is that all? Is one for me?”

“No, Banjo is my saddle horse, and Othello is my stud horse. I can ride him, but he ain’t for no strolls in the park.”

“Why not? What if we want to ride somewhere together?”

“Then we’ll do just what we’re doin’ now.”

“That seems rather impractical, don’t you think?”

“Not at all. I don’t go to town much now that I’ve got my place. Only need is for supplies.”

She blanched at that. “You mean … I can’t go to the ladies sewing circle once a week, or visit Penelope on her farm, or see Eloise?”

“What do ya wanna see them for? Ya got me.”

She stiffened, and he could feel the air about them sour with her sudden change in mood. “I d
on’t think that’s fair, they’re my family.”

“Well, I ain’t got
no wagon, and I only got the one saddle horse. Can ya ride Banjo here by yourself?”

“I’m sure I could, I know how to ride.”

“Astride?”

“You want me to ride astride? Do you want me to wear pants too?” she asked in shock.

“Now be reasonable, sugar, I ain’t got no side-saddle like Jefferson Cooke, and I ain’t got the money to get one. You’ll have to ride Banjo like a man.”

“Oh dear, what will my sisters think?”

“What will they think when they find out you’ve been tearin’ across the prairie like a jack rabbit?”

“A what?”

“A jack rabbit.” He took in her confused expression. “You mean to tell me you’ve never heard of, or seen a jack rabbit?”

She smiled and shook her head no.

“Well I’ll be, ain’t that somethin’? Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me teachin’ you about prairie life.”

“I know I still have a lot to learn, but I promise to be a good student. I always got high marks in all my lessons, and my governess said I would have no problem learning whatever subject was taught me.”

“Governess, huh? You sure did grow up fancy.”

“Not really
. My father was nothing more than a baronet.”

“What in tarnation is a baronet?”

“Well, it’s a man who has the title of Sir, but isn’t a knight, or rather, is ranked just above a knight, and, well … well what it amounts to is my father was called Sir Leonard.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“To some it is, we were still part of the gentry, my father owned a lot of land, but not nearly as much as Duncan Cooke, the new Duke of Stantham.”

“I never did unde
rstand all those titles you English have. People are people as far as I’m concerned.”

She smiled and said nothing. Did she think him silly for thinking the way he did? Sure he understood rank, he grew up respecting the leaders of …
oh no, how am I gonna explain where I come from?
He thought to himself.  He looked at his pretty little wife as she gazed out at the prairie. She was an English lady come out west to marry, and he was lucky to have her as his bride. But what would she think of him when she found out he was raised a savage? At least in her eyes, how else would she think of it? 

Ryder pressed his lips into a firm line, as if doing so would keep him from telling her. He knew it wasn’t a matter of
if
she found out, but
when
. “What do ya think is in the basket?” he asked to distract himself.

“I have no idea, I haven’t looked as I’ve been too busy hanging on to you.”

He chuckled. “Well, I suppose we could guess and find out who’s right when we get home. Why don’t you guess first?”

She giggled. “All right, let me see. There’s sure to be a pie, and maybe some chicken.”

“Good guess, I suppose I’ll add to that some boiled eggs and cookies.”

“What if I’m right, what do I win?” she asked in a teasing tone.

He looked into her eyes. “A kiss.”

She blushed, and it sent a chill up his spine. Good Lord but she was beautiful
! And he was married to her! Ryder could hardly believe it. He looked away as a thought hit him. Did he deserve such a woman after what he’d done with his life? He hadn’t been a model citizen all these years. In fact, he hadn’t settled down into the life of a white man until just a few years ago when he and Seth went to work on Mr. Van Cleet’s hotel.  They’d come out west to escape their pasts, and no sooner got to Oregon City when they got hired.  Both of them had trouble adjusting at first, especially Ryder. Seth seemed born to the ways of the whites, and looked forward to living a more civilized life. But not Ryder, he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that he didn’t fit in. So, he set himself as far out of town as was sensible and began to build his ranch. Most of the work was slow and tedious, as he had only himself do it. But he liked knowing he was building his ranch with his own two hands and knew in his heart that one day, it would be as successful as the Triple C. But he’d be raising horses, not cattle.

“What if you win, and you guessed right?” she asked.

Ryder almost jerked at the sudden blurt, but held perfectly still. She’d startled him and he realized he’d better stop thinking so much and pay closer attention to the trail, not to mention his new wife. “I dunno, what am I gonna win?”

She smiled. “It will be a surprise.”

“Oh, I like surprises. I sure do hope it’s a kiss.” She blushed again, and he grinned from ear to ear. He had to admit he was much more interested in the holder of the basket, rather than what was in it.

They rode
in silence for a time, even after he urged Banjo into a gentle canter. The rain clouds were still hovering over the tree line and more than likely over his place.  He’d have to figure something out when they got there if the sky opened up. His roof wasn’t finished, and the place leaked something awful.  A leaky roof was okay for him as he used a few buckets to catch the rain water, and then curled up on his cot to sleep.  But Constance was another matter, and he hoped she didn’t mind the sound of rain dripping (or in this case, possibly pouring) into metal buckets when it came time to go to bed. Of course, sleep would be the last thing on his mind, and he suddenly realized he might have a much bigger problem than a leaky roof.

It was his wedding night, and he didn’t even have a decent bed!

Dread filled him as he glanced to Constance. He fought against a groan and wanted to kick himself for not giving more thought to being better prepared.  At least he had a kitchen table and two chairs, but that was the only furniture other than his cot and an old trunk he used to store what few clothes he had. 

Ryder blew out a breath and
looked at his new bride in her pretty white dress. Thank Heaven’s Sadie and Harrison would be out soon to bring the rest of her things. He was sure she owned more clothing than he did, and once again almost groaned at the thought. Where was she going to put them?  He could share his trunk with her he supposed.

“What is that?”
she asked out of the blue.

“What is what?”

“Over there in the distance. Is that smoke?”

Ryder brought
Banjo to a stop. He shaded his eyes with one hand to get a better look and sure enough, saw a tiny plume of smoke rising up in the far distance. “Dagnabbit!”

“What’s wrong?”

“That’s our place!”

“It is? Then, why is there smoke?”

“Cause someone’s started a fire in the stove.”

“What? Who?”

“I dunno, but we’re gonna find out. Hang on.”

He spurred Banjo into a
gallop, and realized it would be safer for Constance if he didn’t go running into his yard to meet unexpected company with her in the saddle.  He spotted a small rise in the prairie and headed for it.  Upon reaching his destination, he brought Banjo to a stop. “I want you to stay here while I go see who’s in the house.”

“Why can’t I go with you?”

“Cause it could be anybody, maybe an outlaw. Your cousins Colin and Harrison didn’t come to our weddin’ on account they was chasing after some cattle rustlers.”

“They weren’t sure if they were rustlers and wouldn’t
be
sure until they failed in locating their cows.”

“Be that
as it may, sugar, ya ain’t goin’ with me. Now let me get ya off this horse.”

He helped her slide to the ground, basket in hand
, then slid himself into the saddle. “Wait right here, I won’t be long.” Without another word he kicked Banjo, raced over the small rise, and disappeared from sight. Fear took hold of him then, the kind a man dreads the most. What if for some reason he wasn’t able to protect his bride out here?  It’s not like they could yell for help and have the neighbors come running.  For one, there weren’t any neighbors, and two, even if one of them got hurt and the other went to fetch help, with the time it would take to get some and get back, would the other still be alive?

“Ryder Jones
, you idiot!” he hissed as he got closer to the cabin. “What were you thinkin’ gettin’ yourself married?”

He reined in his horse and scanned the small barnyard.  Othello was pra
ncing about in his corral as Ryder’s chickens, all three of them, pecked the ground near the gate.  Everything was as he left it that morning, except he hadn’t left a fire in the stove. 

Ryder dismounted and drew his gun. He then approached the cabin with caution, his feet feeling as though they hardly touched the ground. When he reached the door, he did what came naturally. He kicked it in and gun
raised, jumped into the one room structure.

“Howdy, Ryder! About time you got home!”

Ryder let go the breath he was holding and holstered his gun. “Cutty! What in tarnation are you doin’ here?”

Three

“Don’t be gettin’ yourself all riled up, I come to visit, that’s all.”

“I see you let yourself in,” Ryder commented dryly as he noted
Cutty’s booted feet propped up on the kitchen table.

“Yep, got your fire going too. Figured you’d want the place warmed up seein’ as how it’s gonna start raining any ol time now.”

A flash of lightning confirmed his words, followed by a crack of thunder. Ryder jumped at the sound. “Oh no!”

“What? You ain’t afraid of a little thunder? That ain’t like you, boy.”

“No, it’s not that, I left … something out on the prairie.”

“What? Well the rain ain’t gonna hurt it.”

“It might. I’d better go fetch it.
You plannin’ on stayin’ the night?”

“Of course, you don’t
expect me to go back up in those hills in a down pour do ya?”