This is my first time writing a period piece. I realize the narration has misspellings which are intentional. The story is set in the late eighteen hundreds somewhere out west. I hope you enjoy it.
I believe it was late April that year I saw the dust from the riders as I looked up from stacking firewood. An oak had split the week before from a lightning strike in the west pasture. Cleo and Sage heard the horses long before I did, their ears perked up as they stared off into the distance anticipating the arrival. My Winchester was leaning against the fence so I grabbed it, cocked it and laid it on the top rail for easy access as I waited for whoever was riding up. I don't get many visitors so being prepared for strangers is part of my routine.
The wagon was accompanied by a rider, a fourth horse who was riderless. It was hitched to the back of the wagon. The dogs stood, hackles up when the two gruff looking men got close enough to see. Each of the pups baring teeth and emitting a slow growl as a warning. I stopped my chore waiting for them, rifle at the ready.
They stopped a decent distance away, the one on horseback attempted to dismount. The dogs changed his mind as they stepped closer, their growls a bit louder and more teeth showing.
They tipped their hats in greeting, the one on horseback asked, "Howdy, ma'am. Mind if I get down?"
I looked them both over, "I think you'll have to ask the dogs. I don't think you'll get a yes though."
He saw my rifle and didn't argue, "Well, we're looking for our umm, niece. We were camped just on the other side of the river last night, and when we woke up this morning, she was gone. She's had a fever, and we're worried about her. We did find her bonnet at the crossing. We stopped at the house on the other side of the river, and they hadn't seen her. Just wondering if maybe she made it this far."
"Well, that would be the Fremont place. I hear the river is flowing pretty good, and I hate to say it, but if she tried crossing, most likely she's halfway to town my now and most likely drown, I'm sorry to say."
"Mr. Fremont, you said? Well, he has some hands mending the fence and told us they'd be on the lookout for her. He said the same thing about the river. If you do see her, we'd appreciate you taking her to town. We'll be there for a couple of days. We're on our way to California to seek our fortune."
The uglier one in the buckboard looked around, "Where's the 'mister,' Ma'am?"
I replied with a grin, "My guess is he's behind something where you ain't gonna see him, his Sharps aimed right there on that pocket on yer vest."
He looked down as if he could feel the muzzle of a rifle pointing right at him, swallowed hard and apologized, "I didn't mean nuthin' by it ma'am."
I broke the awkward silence, "I'll watch for her, sure nuff. Looks like we might get another storm here fairly quick. Those clouds to the west look like they mean business. You boys should get going if you want to beat it to town. Talk to the sheriff about looking for her."
They both looked around trying to figure out which way west was. Upon seeing the dark thunderheads looming, they looked at each other and grimaced. The one who'd done all the talking thanked me then turned to his partner telling him to get going. They thanked me just before leaving, looking at the dogs one last time and scanning the yard for any sign of my husband and his Sharps. Cleo and Sage stood their ground making sure the two didn't dismount and cause anything like trouble.
I didn't get back to stacking wood until they'd ridden entirely out of sight about two miles down the road. It was then that my little flock of sheep appeared at the corner of the house. I thought it strange, so I whistled to Cleo, my Border Collie to round them up and get them back into their pasture. Sage, my big old mutt, followed me as I investigated the reason for their escape.
Cleo in the meantime had chased them back through an open gate keeping them in a nice group like she always does. When I got to the gate, I inspected it, closing and latching it several times to figure out why it was open. It was as solid as it ever was not showing a reason to be unlatched. I knew those sheep weren't smart enough to open it, so I stood there with a puzzled look on my face. I called Cleo back then looked for Sage who was staring into the barn, big bushy tail wagging. Cleo seeing her partner, sped past me to see what was going on. She too stopped at the entrance peering inside, wagging her tail.
I began to wish I'd brought my rifle as I cautiously approached the doorway. I called out to see if anyone was there, knowing those two visitors were long gone and thinking maybe that riderless horse had left someone here. I didn't hear a reply, so I sent the girls in to flush whatever or whoever it was out.
Just as the dogs disappeared into the barn, I heard a female voice laughing. I walked in to see a young woman laying flat on her back, both Sage and Cleo licking her face, tails wagging in complete doggy happiness.
I stood, hands on my hips, smiling as I watched my pups playfully devour the young woman. She was extremely dirty, her raven black hair matted and unkempt, her jeans torn, her shirt had only one sleeve, and her feet were bare. Despite her appearance, she was laughing and giggling until she saw me. Suddenly stopping, she looked at me with fear in her eyes, the dogs pausing wondering why their new playmate had quit the game. Cleo and Sage have never let me down in regards to judging someone. I knew by their reactions regarding the two strangers, and now this waif that the two were evil men and this one was not just a runaway with a 'fever.'
My smile must have put her at ease, but I could tell she was still afraid.
"You must be the runaway those men were looking for. You don't look feverish to me." I told her.
She begged me, "Fever? Is that what they said? Please don't tell them I'm here. I'll do anything. They kidnapped me after killing my family about a week ago. They want to sell me to some whorehouse in San Francisco. I heard them talking about it a couple of nights ago. I had to run away!"
"Calm down, you're safe here, young lady," I reassured her.
"Oh, thank you," she sighed, returning to pet and play with the dogs.
"When you're done, come on in the house. I may have something you can fit into. You're free to wash up and get something to eat. Then I might just head into town and tell the sheriff your story."
With her being occupied with the dogs I went back to my chore of stacking the wood. After a few minutes, both Cleo and Sage came bounding around the corner, their new friend not far behind them. Now that she was in the full sun I could see how dirty and beat up she was. Her wrists had been bound by the look of the red marks on them. Her feet were bloodied from walking over the bare ground without shoes. I stopped working to usher her into the house.
"I'm Patsy." I introduced myself to her.
