Sweet Annie (2 page)

"How
do
you
get up?" Standing
right beside the beast was more intimidating than just imagining. But she
wanted to sit in that saddle badly—so badly she shoved aside the sudden qualm
and paid close attention to his reply.

"I
put one foot in the stirrup here, and throw the other leg over his back. Can
you do that?''

"I
don't think so." That was the leg that didn't allow her mobility.

“Maybe
if I lift you so you can get your good leg in the stirrup, then I can help you
get the other one over."

"Okay."

He
picked her up much as Burdell and her father often did, then directed her foot
to the stirrup. “Grab the horn and pull."

She got her foot secured,
held on tightly, and he raised her body, indelicately pushing her bottom upward
until she had her weight in the stirrup. Determined, Annie held on with all
her inexpert strength.

Holding
her weight above him was obviously a strain, but he seemed as stubborn as she,
and after several awkward grunts and shoves, Annie found herself in the
saddle. Her voluminous skirts and eyelet petticoats had bunched and rumpled,
but he even helped her adjust them to cover most of her pantaloons and limbs
modestly.

"Anything
hurt?" he asked, panting as he squinted up, the sun casting blue
highlights through his now rumpled black hair.

"Nope."
Oh, but the ground was so very far away and the view of the countryside from up
here was positively elating! "I'm doing it!" she squealed. "I'm
on the horse!"

"Move your foot now,
so I can get on behind you."

Surprised,
she obeyed, and he swung up easily to sit behind her. "Scared?" he
asked.

"Oh, no! This is
better than I ever imagined!"

"This
is nothin'," he said, reaching rawboned arms around her to pick up the
reins. "The best is coming." With a flexing movement of his legs and
feet that she felt through her clothing, he urged the horse forward.

Startled,
but delighted, Annie's heart raced. "Make him go faster!"

He kicked the animal into
motion, and Annie gripped the saddle horn. After the first few jolting minutes,
she adjusted her weight to the gait of the horse. Her home stood on a sparsely
populated tree-lined street near the corner of town, and Luke headed Wrangler
away, toward the open fields of grass and rabbit brush to the south.

The wind caressed Annie's
cheeks and whipped through her hair, loosening the once faultless sausage curls
and streaming the locks over her shoulders. The sky rushed forward to meet
them, blue in all directions, breathtaking as far as her eyes could see. A liberating
sense of freedom and exhilaration tuned her every sense and thought and feeling
into this moment.

She'd
never felt so light, so delicate and free from the chains that bound her to the
earth; the restrictions of her body that tethered her to that chair were forgotten.
Annie laughed and cried a shout of pure jubilation. Daringly, she released her
hold on the leather and spread her arms wide open.

It was the best day of her
life.

Riding
was better than her most fanciful dreams— better than ice cream, better than
birthdays and Christmas. The horse carried them along a creek lined with
nodding daisies as far as the eye could see.

Eventually,
Luke turned the horse's head, guiding him back the way they'd come, then slowed
him to a walk as they got closer.

Annie's
head was full to bursting with the pleasure of her first taste of freedom. “This
was the best birthday present anyone could ever give me," she said over
her shoulder. "Thank you, Luke Carpenter."

"Happy Birthday,
Annie."

"How
long are you staying with your uncle?" she asked, hopefully.

"I'm not sure. I might
be coming to work for him."

The
feel of the wind numbing her cheeks and this smile of joy would always be on
her face, she was sure. Excitement filled her to bursting.

Wrangler
carried them down the dirt lane to her house, and as they neared, Annie caught
site of the crowd, which had re-formed and now milled near the front gate. Her
mother stood, lace handkerchief balled in a fist and pressed to her breast. At
her side Annie's father wore a thunderous expression.

Panic
exploded inside Annie. Dread washed over her, erasing her joy and
lighfheartedness like water thrown on a slate. Burdell broke through the crowd
and pointed at Luke as they approached.

"Oh,
Annie! Oh, my God, Annie!" her mother cried, and Annie's father steadied
his wife for a moment, then passed her into a neighbor's hands and rushed
forward.

"What
is the meaning of this?" he demanded. "Annie, are you all
right?"

"I'm
fine, Papa," she said, sounding more breathless than she liked, terrified
at the anger on his face. "Luke took me for a ride."

Her
father reached up and plucked her from her seat on the horse. "My daughter
has a delicate condition," he said to Luke. "Come down here, young
man, and explain yourself. What have you done to her?''

Luke
had barely lowered himself to the ground when Burdell lunged forward and shoved
his fist into Luke's face with a sickening crack.

"No!"
Annie screamed, and struggled in her father's arms. "Papa, don't let
Burdy hurt him! Luke gave me a ride on his horse!"

Several of Burdell's
friends formed a circle around the now scuffling pair, blocking Annie's view,
but the awful sounds were enough to make her stomach twist.

"Stop!
Stop them, Papa!" She grabbed her father's arm. "He's my friend! He
didn't know I couldn't go riding! It's my fault! Only my fault!"

Luke's
uncle lunged into the scuffle, and a break appeared in the cluster of boys. Mr.
Chapman pulled Luke away and held the boy's back against his chest, pinning him
with both arms.

Luke's
midnight black hair fell in his eyes, and a bright-red trickle ran from the
corner of his mouth. His flannel shirt was torn and spotted with blood. He
glared at Burdell, now held firmly by one of their older cousins and sporting a
swelling right eye.

"I'm
sorry about this, Eldon," Mr. Chapman said to her father, then, "Mrs.
Sweetwater," glancing her way. "I'm sure my nephew didn't mean any
harm."

"You
keep that boy away from here." Her father pointed indignantly. "If
she's been harmed in any way, I'm holding you responsible."

Annie wanted to turn
everything back to before this had happened. She wanted to say something that
would convince them that Luke had only been treating her like a friend, but the
sobs that racked her body prevented her from speech. How could things have
changed from the wonder and perfection of only moments ago into this
nightmare?

"I'm
sending for the doctor," her father said, cradling her protectively in
his arms.

Her
mother dabbed at her cheeks with her handkerchief and fluttered over Annie
helplessly. "He should look at her limb and listen to her heart."

"I'm
f-fine," Annie said on a sob. "Have the doctor look at
h-him."
She pointed to Luke, being led away by his uncle. The boy gave
her a reassuring little nod and his battered mouth turned up at one corner with
regret, but something more.
Respect.

He
was the only person who'd ever treated her as if she were as good as he was,
and he was being punished for it. Tears welled and blurred her vision.

Annie
covered her eyes with her hand, so she wouldn't have to see him taken away. Her
father carried her toward the house, toward her room, toward her bed.

For
the first time she didn't have to imagine what being a whole person was like.
For the first time she knew exactly what she'd been missing. Luke Carpenter
had offered her a forbidden taste of life—the kind of life she craved and
yearned for and dreamed of.

And then reality had
snatched it away.

It was the worst day of her
life.

Chapter One

Copper
Creek, Colorado

1888

"I
know this wagon isn't as
fancy as your Papa's carriage," Annie's cousin Charmaine apologized for
the second time. "But we are going to have ever so much fun at Lizzy's
this afternoon."

"I'm
looking forward to it," Annie said, arranging herself on the pad of blankets
Charmaine had prepared in the wagon bed. "You know I don't get to do
things like this when Mama and Papa are home."

"Lucky
for us, your mother agreed to accompany Uncle Eldon to Denver this time."

"You
ladies stay out of trouble." Annie's Uncle Mort lifted Annie's chair into
the back of the wagon. It rolled toward her, and Annie set the brake.

Charmaine smoothed her
russet-and-cream-printed broadcloth skirts and climbed up to the driver's seat
with her father's assistance.

Annie observed her cousin as she sat and took up
the reins. "Are you sure you know how to drive this thing?"

Charmaine frowned at her.
"I'm positive. I've done it plenty of times, haven't I, Daddy?"

"She has," he
assured Annie good-naturedly. Uncle Mort was her mother's brother, and neither
her aunt nor her uncle were as strict or possessive as Annie's parents. The
best times of her youth had been spent here on their ranch during the
infrequent occasions that her parents had traveled together and entrusted her
care to her aunt and uncle.

Not that they didn't
respect her parents' wishes and enforce rules, such as no riding, but where
there were no specific guidelines, they allowed Annie to make her own
decisions. Like today's trip into town to visit Charmaine's school friends.

"Have fun, girls." Uncle Mort waved them
off.

Annie held on to her hat
and ignored the bumps to enjoy the ride. The sun warmed her through her clothing,
and she inhaled air pungent with the scent of freshly turned earth in a nearby
field.

"We're going to make
boutonnieres for Lizzy's wedding," Charmaine called. "Lavender
ribbon, with tiny paper flowers." Her cousin chattered on, and Annie
surveyed the spring-dressed countryside. Purple aster blanketed the hillsides
with brilliant color.

"I'm going to stop at
the stable and ask someone to drive us to Lizzy's, then take the rig back until
we're ready," she called down. "That way we don't have to try to
wheel you over the boardwalks and stairs and the dirt street on the way."

Annie
nodded her consent. Charmaine did like to make things convenient, and Annie
hated to be an encumbrance. Her cousin slowed the rig in the shade of a new
building.

"So
this is the new livery!" Annie said, shading her eyes and perusing the
freshly painted building. "I heard the hammering and pounding from my room
for weeks." The Sweetwater home was several streets away, but close enough
for the sound to carry on a clear day. Annie's curiosity had been piqued, but
to her frustration, her dinnertime queries had been ignored.

A
tall, broad-shouldered young man stepped into the wide-open doorway, and the
reason for her parents' stubborn refusal to discuss the new livery became unmistakably
clear.

Sun
glinted from hair as black as midnight. He wore a loose shirt, laced up the
front, and trousers tucked into tall black boots. A healthy-looking male,
tanned and confident in his surroundings.

Luke
Carpenter.

Chaotic images tied to more
chaotic feelings bombarded Annie's senses: Luke smiling his irrepressible
smile and giving her a forbidden taste of freedom; Luke with blood spattered on
his shirt, blood trickling from his lip, looking confused and humiliated; Luke
noticing her in the mercantile and nodding her way before her father caught
him; Luke riding that beautiful white-stockinged horse as though he and the animal
were one.

Once, a few weeks after
that horrible incident at her birthday party, he had leaped the hedge as she
sat in her chair on the side lawn, enjoying the sun.