The Way Back by Abbie Williams

Author:Abbie Williams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Central Avenue Publishing
Published: 2018-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Montana Territory - 1881

“WE SHOULD BE THERE WITHIN THE HOUR,” MILES SAID, and there was an unmistakable note of anticipation in his voice. As though he understood his master’s words, Blade nickered and shook his mane. Miles patted his horse’s silver neck, stroking him with the knuckle of a bent thumb. I had grown familiar with the mannerisms of both horse and rider during our journey west from Howardsville; I’d even settled on a name for my sweet little dun mare, and now called her Flickertail.

“Is that a species of moth?” Miles had asked. “Or bird?”

“Not one I’ve ever heard of,” I said. “I just like how it sounds.”

“I’ve never seen anything like these rock formations.” I indicated southward, where a gorgeous T-shaped configuration soared out of the ground. I pictured imaginary roots, like those upholding a tree, sunk deep into the earth, anchoring it for centuries to come. The farther west we traveled the more varied the landscape, rocks stacked atop one another as though a giant playing with its toys had arranged them. The sharp scent of sagebrush hung suspended in the hot, motionless air; small pink flowers with five blossoms, which Miles told me were bitterroot, grew in thick patches along the uneven ground.

“They are quite awe-inspiring,” he agreed, removing his cigar to respond. He smoked all the time; I had grown accustomed to the scent of tobacco. I’d requested a drag last night around the fire, to everyone’s mild shock, and my subsequent coughing fit justified their surprise and gave us all something to laugh about. Miles continued, “That rock, in particular. I’ve always had an urge to camp beneath it, though Grant’s homestead is so near there’s no reason. Yonder,” and he nodded to indicate, “is where Henry Spicer intends to stake his claim. There’s some five hundred acres adjacent to Grant’s land.”

“You haven’t thought of claiming it for yourself?” I was wearing the same clothes I’d left Branch’s claim shanty in – Axton’s trousers, belted with a length of rope, one of my own blouses with the sleeves rolled to elbows, my corset (which I detested with a red-hot passion, but not wearing it was out of the question), and a hat Branch had lent me, with a wide brim which kept my face shaded. I felt at ease as I rode, my blouse unbuttoned to just between my breasts, which might have been one button too far but I was so hot, my skin slick with sweat beneath my clothes; besides, no one out here cared about those kinds of rules.

Miles was also sweating under the glare of the sun, black hair tied at the nape of his neck, his shirt likewise unbuttoned and with sleeves rolled back. “I haven’t yet considered claiming my own land, to be honest.”

“Honesty is good.” I teased him a little, trying to coax a smile. His default expression was often a frown, eyebrows pulled low, even though I knew there was a sense of humor in him.

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