Untamed Journey (23 page)

Jackson laughed outright at her suspicious
comment. “I’ve been a saint with every woman here.” At Ruth’s
raised eyebrows, Jackson amended his claim. “Present company
excepted.”

“Turn around, so I can get dressed,” she
commanded, “since you seem to be lingering.”

Jackson did as she requested and gave her his
back, but continued talking. “Mrs. McCormick is the school teacher
I was telling you about. Catherine McCormick. Although I confess
that I do try and attract women here, so that the men that come
will stay and settle the place. Catherine was a teacher who needed
a place to call home, and we were in need of a school.”

Ruth was surprised at this statement. “Are
there many children nearby?”

“Not yet,” he replied. “But we’re gaining
ground on that first requirement. Why just this week I believe I’ll
have convinced a certain young woman to stay on and contribute to
the school’s class size.”

“Jackson, you’re delusional if you think I’ve
not only decided to stay on, but to mother your obstinate
children.”

Ruth’s last comment was somewhat muffled as
she pulled a borrowed wool dress over her shift.

“But you haven’t decided
not
to
stay.” He solicitously handed Ruth a scarf and heavy coat. “That
means we’re making progress, and I’m an infinitely patient
man.”

A
s they approached
the unadorned cabin, the front door slammed open and three heads of
blond hair streamed down the front porch into the dirt yard, coming
to a sudden halt at the sight of Jackson and Ruth. The combined
shrieks of excitement of three young girls had Ruth’s mount a
little skittish. Her soft voice and firm hand on the reins
reassured Caboose that the noise was no threat to him, and he
instantly calmed. A good thing, Ruth thought, as the girls jumped
up and down in impatience and joy at the sight of Jackson

“Hello, Mr. Jackson. Did you come to see Papa
about the new room he’s building me?” The question was asked by the
daintiest child Ruth had ever seen. Her delicate build did not
appear to be something she was aware of, as she launched herself
full-force into Jackson’s arms before he’d finished
dismounting.

The next girl up in size remained fixed in
place on the edge of the porch, quietly adding that the new room
was not exclusively for her tiny sister. “Mama and Papa promised
there will be enough room for all of us to have our own bed when
everything is done,” the older sister pointed out.

With the squirming sprite tucked safely under
one arm, Jackson ignored the older sister’s more reserved nature
and scooped her up under his other arm. “I heard you’re being put
out in the barn with the pigs, so your mama can have some peace and
quiet in the house.”

Jackson winked at the eldest girl, who was
blushing to the roots of her hair at the mere sight of him.

Ruth could see the girl was at an age where
embarrassment was as common as breathing when any creature of the
male persuasion was within ten feet. Ruth couldn’t help but smile
at the life before her, where joy and safety had created such
beautiful children.

The barn door slammed open next, and two boys
lumbered over to join their sisters. They were children still, but
the oldest was nearly as tall as Ruth.

“Hello, boys. Come over here and meet Miss
Ruth, your new neighbor.”

Ruth tugged impatiently on Jackson’s sleeve,
insisting in a whisper, “I am not their neighbor–just a
visitor.”

The young sprite of a girl overheard and
interrupted, “But Miss Ruth, Mama said just yesterday that you were
staying, and that Mister Jackson was bound to fall under your
spell. Then you would get married and have a girl for me to play
with real soon.”

Jackson laughed out loud while Ruth blushed
to the roots of her hair.

“Amelia, you stop that right now,” her older
sister admonished. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“But why not?” Amelia asked. “Mama said
things like that, just yesterday. And Miss Sue bet her an entire
Sunday of washing that Jackson would win Miss Ruth over in less
than a month. But Mama said no, she thought the new lady was made
of sterner stuff, and would hold out until winter.”

The other siblings were all shuffling their
feet in the dirt. Their eldest sister finally grabbed Amelia out of
Jackson’s arms and clamped a hand over the sprite’s mouth.

“I’m here on business with your Pa, and to
introduce Miss Ruth to your Ma,” Jackson explained with a wink. “In
case she decides to stay.”

Jackson took Ruth’s arm in his to lead her up
the porch steps, but not before whispering in her ear, “Between you
and me, I’ve given you a full four weeks, but wouldn’t think of
spoiling their fun.”

Ruth restrained herself from elbowing the man
outright for his boldness, but only because small children were
present, and their mother chose that moment to greet them at the
front door.

“Jackson, come on in. Feel free to lock the
door behind you, as my children have chores to finish and no more
time to chatter off your ears.” Catherine followed her comment with
a stern glare, which got her children moving back toward the barn,
quietly grumbling their protest.

Jackson ushered Ruth forward. “Catherine,
allow me to introduce you to Miss Ruth Jameson. Ruth, this is
Catherine, our resident school teacher, and most prolific
mother.”

Catherine took Ruth’s hand in welcome, then
led her into the kitchen, where a fire in the stove warmed the
room. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ruth. I feel like I know you
already, the way Sue speaks of you. I hope you don’t think we’re
too gossipy here, but we get so few visitors, much less a female to
chat with. And a brave one, at that, I hear!”

Ruth knew Catherine meant well. Her open
expression held nothing but genuine curiosity at the recent tales
of battle on the train. But her own guilty secret had her
hesitating to talk about the event. “It was very frightening,
actually, and I wasn’t brave at all - just desperate and scared in
an unknown situation. When Jackson and the Marshals arrived, we all
just followed their lead.”

“Don’t you believe her,” Jackson said. “She
was preparing to shoot two of the robbers, long before she knew we
were even there.”

Catherine made a shooing motion in Jackson’s
direction. “Go on now, Ruth can tell her own story. My man is
expecting you. He’s up the north fork of the stream checking traps.
Take one of the boys with you, and they’ll show you where. Ruth can
keep me company while I work on dinner. I sure could use the adult
conversation,” Catherine added, looking toward Ruth.

Ruth couldn’t help but smile in response to
the woman’s open welcome, even knowing she was the new favorite
topic of discussion between Catherine and Sue. “I’d be happy to.
But only if you let me help.”

Jackson let himself out the kitchen door in
search of Catherine’s husband.

After settling Ruth near the cozy stove, the
other woman had a hot cup of coffee for each of them and a
half-eaten blueberry pie on the table, ready to serve. “My oldest
girl made this. She’s becoming quite the cook, and I’m counting the
days until she can take over this chore entirely.”

“You don’t like cooking?” Ruth asked.

“Don’t like it? I hate every tasteless morsel
of it. I’m a school teacher through and through, and should
probably have lived life in a big city.”

“Why didn’t you?” Ruth asked.

“My first husband was why. He was a brute of
a man, with no redeeming qualities. He manhandled his own children
until I came along. And when I stood up to him, he beat me,
instead. I wasn’t one to keep quiet, so he up and took me and the
kids out west, so I wouldn’t have any family or friends close by to
help. If I hadn’t already been pregnant with his child, I wouldn’t
have gone.”

“Good God. How awful,” Ruth commiserated.
“What did you do?”

Ruth desperately wanted to hear this woman’s
story. It clearly had a happy ending, and that thought gave Ruth
hope that even her own situation could be fixed.

Catherine glanced out the kitchen window to
where her kids were playing.

Noticing Catherine’s action, Ruth quickly
added, “I don’t mean to pry –”

Catherine shook her head. “I don’t mind
sharing my story. In fact, I’ve found it’s good for me. And it’s
good for other women to know they can fight back, and sometimes,
just sometimes, get justice.”

She took another sip of coffee before
continuing. “The oldest kids know the details – at least what they
can remember of it. But the youngest two don’t. Amelia was still in
my belly, and the youngest boy doesn’t remember his Pa at all. My
first husband, Carl, was a widower with four children when I met
him. He lived in the neighboring town and was well off, owning the
only blacksmith shop in the area. His first wife supposedly died of
a fever – at least that was the story my folks had been told. So he
was considered a good catch for me. I’d only known him a few weeks
when my father agreed to his proposal.”

Catherine stirred her coffee unnecessarily.
“Carl was different when people were around, especially my family.
We all thought he was a wonderful man, and felt sorry for him
trying to raise four kids on his own. The truth was, he beat his
children for the smallest offense. The first time I witnessed it, I
stepped in and he knocked me across the room.”

“My God,” Ruth gasped, accidentally tipping
her cup over.

Catherine jumped up to grab a rag and started
wiping up the spill. She motioned Ruth back into her seat. “It’s
better if I have something to do while I tell the story.”

“Please, you don’t have to finish,” Ruth
insisted. “Not if it brings you pain. I know how unpleasant
memories can be.”

“I want to tell you,” Catherine said quietly.
“If you’re going to stick around you’ll hear the gossip sooner or
later. I’d rather have the details come from me.”

Ruth watched as the older woman topped off
both coffee cups, and then returned to cleaning the stained table
with a rag.

“I’d just married him three months before,”
Catherine continued. “He cried in my arms the next day, claiming it
was the whiskey. He swore on the Bible that he’d only started
drinking when he lost his first wife, and he promised he would
quit. I believed him, because I was already pregnant at that point.
He begged me to start a fresh life in a new town, where memories of
his dead wife wouldn’t haunt him. I didn’t know what to do. My
parents had fallen on hard times when my father became ill, and
they didn’t have the money to support me and a child. And then
there were Carl’s kids. I had sworn before God to care for them as
my own, but had no right to take them with me. So I went with my
husband. We all went, and slept scared for the longest time,
waiting for him to pick up a bottle.”

Ruth took Catherine’s hand in hers, not
knowing what to say.

Catherine smiled her thanks and continued
with her story. “It’s a funny thing – he never did take a drink
again, but he took his fists to his oldest son within a month, for
talking back. Jacob was only eleven and didn’t stand a chance. I
heard the yelling, and when I ran into the stable, Carl had Jacob
on the ground, kicking him over and over again. I told the Sheriff
I panicked, but really, I was so very calm. I was never one to take
things lying down, and at that moment, I figured Carl had gotten
one more chance from me than he deserved. So I grabbed the nearest
weapon – the hammer we used to shoe the horses – and struck him as
hard as I could across the head. Lucky for us all, the first blow
killed him.”

Ruth remained silent, not knowing if she
should voice her opinion that Carl got what he deserved. Even
without saying anything, though, Ruth felt Catherine was a kindred
spirit. “I understand, more than you’ll ever know. And those kids
should be as proud of you as I am.”

Even after all these years, Catherine started
to tear up at Ruth’s words. “Unfortunately for me, the circuit
judge took a more old-fashioned view of things, and wanted to see
me hanged for murder. Lucky girl that I was, the sheriff’s son had
gone to school with poor Jacob, and knew how Carl really was. That
sheriff turned a blind eye when his son and Jacob broke me out of
the jailhouse. We left in the middle of the night, with nothing
more than an old revolver Jacob had taken and the clothes on our
backs.”

Ruth was amazed at this woman’s raw courage.
“You took all four of his children with you?”

“Of course,” Catherine shrugged. “They were
already mine. We lived in the woods for an entire spring and
summer, putting as much distance as possible between the town and
us before settling in a makeshift shelter. But as winter drew
closer, we become desperate for food. We were from the city. Jacob
was the only one who could hunt, but not well enough to feed five
people. I had heard about Jackson’s ranch, and I marched right up
to his front door and asked for a job. Demanded, was more like it.
The whole while I was afraid he’d hang me directly from his own
tree, since he was with the Marshal Service.”

“What happened?” Ruth wanted to know what
Jackson had done when faced with a desperate but demanding woman
with four hungry children in tow.

“He asked me what skills I had that might
make it worth his while to support us all. He treated me like I was
a man with those kids, instead of a woman. Anybody else would have
demanded to know where my husband was, but not Jackson. I guess he
was smart enough to know that the husband was dead and buried long
before I showed up on a stranger’s doorstep. I told him I could
read, write, and sum better than most men, and if a man could make
a living with these skills, there was no real reason why I
couldn’t.”