A DERANGED MARRIAGE

By Celia Jolley

The whistling caught her attention first, then it was the plodding of several horses she could hear coming down this remote part of the road.  Ginny yanked her head around desperately trying to find cover before they came around the bend.  Needing to hide, right quick, she sprinted into a skinny bunch of piney woods hoping to blend in.  No such luck.

The whistler must have seen her.  It was the only reason for him to call, "Whoa" to his mount and to the small remuda of horses strung behind him.  

"Hey, girl, I see you there.  What in the Sam hill are you doing hiding in there in this forsaken stretch of road?  Why it's forty miles between anything close to being a town."

The only thing hidden was Ginny's face tucked behind the scraggly trunk of a wind-blown and water-starved tree.  Peeking out, she saw that sure 'nough he was staring right at her while the horses were tugging at what tuffs of grass there were to be had.  

Her eyes got big as she looked past the man to the familiar bunch of broken geldings from the Walker Ranch where her pa had worked until he died last month. A man-killing horse had bucked him, then kicked him to death.  But most of these were ones he broke himself for his ungrateful boss, the boss who had just kicked her off his place hardly giving her time to even look for another.  His excuse?  He had only spat that it was bad business to have a single gal on his ranch, and it was high time she moved on.  Never you mind that her pa had given him ten of his spine jarring years working his horses before giving his life.  Never you mind that he gave his sweat and blood digging post holes and stringing barbed wire, riding in rain or egg-frying-on-the-parched-ground kind of heat to work his cattle for the ungrateful man.  Ginny herself had helped to feed and water and exercise the man's horses on a regular basis for years with no thanks whatsoever.  Yep, she and these horses were well acquainted.  

"I said, do you want a ride to the next town?" He was scowling at her now.  He probably only asked to be polite, a cowboy thing to do.  It didn't mean he wanted her to come along, just that it was his duty to ask.

Ginny must not have listened to him the first time since a few of these horses greeted her by  their soft whickering  and nodding their hello.  Now she examined him through menacing slit eyes.  She hoped he hadn't stolen them, but had a vague niggling memory that Pedro had said someone was coming soon to buy horses.  He must have come while she was in town looking for work, work nobody had for a young God-fearing girl like herself.

"Well?"
 
Was he crazy?  She wasn't about to go share a saddle with some stranger she'd never before met so he could take her to who knows where.  However, her blistered feet were saying something completely different.  

"No thanks," she managed to say through her parched throat.  Her canteen had gone dry a couple of miles ago, while her eyes wistfully lingered on the string of horses behind him.

He shrugged, "Suit yourself," and clucked, "Giddy up." The horses obeyed and began to move lazily down the road, strung out like a line of reluctant schoolkids going back into the schoolhouse behind their teacher.  The gray she liked best even looked back at her almost asking, "Are you crazy girl?  Come on!"

So she did.  She ran and leaped on his back, first landing on her stomach as she'd yanked herself up by his mane.  After throwing a leg over, she sat bareback and upright.  She just grinned at the man who looked back and gaped at her.  She tipped her straw hat at him and kept her chuckling close to her chest.  Too much of her leg was showing, but he'd already turned around.

Towards dusk without meeting nary another rider on the road all afternoon, he called "Whoa." He swung down and hit his hat against his leg making a dust cloud.  "We can make camp here tonight."

Ginny slid down faster than a snake off a hot rock.  She wasn't about to get closer to him than a smart dog to a tail-lifted skunk.  After he led the horses to a barely trickling stream, he hobbled them so they could graze without kicking and biting each other over a chunk of grass.  When he came back, she warily watched as he built a small fire and pried open a single can of beans with his knife, just enough for him and no more.  Then he made coffee before laying on his bed roll listening to it perk.   Ginny only listened as her empty stomach made terrible music strumming  over her ribs.  She pushed hard against it hoping the man did not hear her.

But he did.  He got up sighing and opened another can of beans to set in the coals.  "It's probably too much to ask if y'all brought yer own cup for yer coffee, I suppose."

"I can wait until after you drink your own first, mister."  Then she muttered, "Thanks," under her breath.

"What's that?" he asked looking all innocent when she knew good and well by his smirk that he'd heard her just fine.

As much as she wanted coffee, she wanted to glug down some of that trickling water that was teasing her kicking up her thirst another notch.  She refused to let her guard down by bellying down to drink.  But coffee would be good too.  Once he was asleep, she could fill her canteen at the pretty stream with blue bonnets all around.

Ginny walked away to find a bush to hide in, one that would give a girl a little privacy.  When she strolled back, he handed her his cup.

"You drank that down like a man who likes his whiskey."  Now why did she say that?

"Don't drink, lest it's coffee."

"It's not that I speak from experience," she muttered as her tongue stumbled around like it was drunk.  She asked, "Care if I help myself?" before picking the pot up with her dirty skirt and almost dragging it into the flames.

He jumped up and she jumped back.  "Here, let me do that," he growled taking his glove out of his pocket and slapping it on pants before grabbing the hot handle..  "The last thing I need is for you to catch yourself on fire."

The cup shook in her hand as he poured.  It shook so much that he had to put his hand around hers to hold it still enough so as not to spill it on her.  He glanced up and sniffed.  "Do you have the shakes or something?  Don't tell me you've been imbibing."

Her eyes went wide.  "No, just hungry, I guess."  Ginny couldn't help but stare at him like a rabbit in a trap.  Maybe after she ate some beans, she'd better set off by herself.  But maybe she'd soak her blisters in the cool water first and then see if her feet still protested.  Her boots weren't made for walking, that's fer sure.  Riding a horse was much nicer, especially Smokey, the gray. 

The man was younger than she'd thought. Any wrinkles were the lines baked around his eyes probably from squinting into the harsh sun.  His hair was sun bleached golden blond on top with darker blond underneath.  It was evident that he hadn't shaved for a few days while on this trip, so his stubble seemed to be thinking on growing up to become a beard someday.  But his hard eyes skewed her like she better not make a false move.  

She held her cup up in thanks then took a sip and spewed it out.  "Yikes!  That's hot!" She hot-footed it to the sluggish stream and filled her canteen and drank lustily.  Wiping her mouth,    Ginny could only hope her beans wouldn't be as hot.  Thinking of beans, she realized that unless she wanted to drink them out of a can, she'd be having to share his fork as well since she'd not brought one with her either.  For goodness sakes, she didn't know she'd be needing to bring everything but the kitchen sink.  Bother!

"Hey, I gave you that coffee to drink, not to spit it out," he frowned.  "Stupid girl," he muttered under his breath.

"I heard that," she scowled back at him.  "I'm smart enough to know to warn somebody I was handing them something hotter than..." she gulped that next word back, the one her pa used, but certainly not her ma back when they'd both been alive.

"I'm from the Walker ranch.  My pa broke some of those horses over there looking gentle as lambs now.  He made sure they were good for working cows too.  My name is Ginny, by the way.  I was just looking for work..."  What was wrong with her?  It was like she was spewing words faster than she'd spewed the hot brew.

"Looking for work way out here in the yonder?  The only town close by is a prairie dog village."  He guffawed loudly while she bristled.  When he was done laughing at her expense, he added, "I'm Hanson."

Ginny jerked her head up thinking he'd just said he was handsome, before realizing her mistake.  It's not like he wasn't, but...

"I'm foreman on the Double H Ranch.  Here's your beans," he said as he pulled them out of the coals while wearing his glove.

"I'll let them cool.  You go ahead and eat, and I'll wait for your fork."

"Oh, you will, will you?"  He looked at her like he wasn't sure if he was willing to share, but sighed again.  "Sure.  Maybe the wait will help you not spit them out all over the ground too."

It took everything in her to keep her glare down to a simmer and her lips locked before saying something back.  This man could rile her faster than a dumb dog coming after a porcupine.  He might get his come-upping's if he didn't watch it. 

After eating the beans with his fork and sipping her coffee out of his cup while gazing at his campfire, she was beginning to get sleepy.  "Thanks for supper," she said after she'd cooled her feet and washed his utensils in the dribbling stream and handed them back.  

It might be hot as blazes during the day, but sometimes the night could chill a body straight through, especially when that body was laying down on the bare ground.  So, she pulled her coat out of her pack to use as a blanket while using her pack as her pillow.  Her last thought was wondering why they couldn't see any stars.

A wild yell woke her just as a fat raindrop spit her in the eye.  Ginny jumped up and looked around.  

"Flash flood!  The rain must be heavy upstream, cause we're about to be washed away.  Hurry and help me get these horses unhobbled," he cried with desperation in his voice.

The rain was coming down harder and harder, and the stream had spread and was now up to their ankles where they'd just been.  "I've got two undone, heading for Smokey now," she hollered back.

"I've got four, so that only leaves the gray and a pinto."  

As she searched through the pitch dark, she tried to see her favorite horse.  She whistled for him.  He answered with a whinny."  She ran though knee deep swift water to undo him.  She had to mostly immerse herself  to get his hobbles off.  Then Ginny jumped on his wet back barely hanging on as she turned him away from where the stream had become a roar.

Hanson was yelling at the horses to head them further away.  He rode by the branches of a tree where he'd thrown his saddle and got it down, but his bedroll and her pack were long gone.  

"Are you sure we got them all?" she asked through chattering teeth.  "She couldn't see farther than her hand through the sheets of rain.

"Yep, though it might take awhile to round them back up.  I just hope none head back to the Walker Ranch."

"I think they'll just stand a ways off and stick together.  They don't like this weather any better than we do.  If we give our horses their heads, they might lead us to them."

She heard him grunt, but noticed he'd let up on his reigns a bit.  It wasn't long before they found them all with their heads together as if misery loved company.

"I've never been in a flash flood before," she said  while shivering.

"Me either.  Thanks for helping.  We might have lost these horses if you hadn't helped me.  Did you see the water tossing huge trees up in the air?  I hate to think what it would have done to our horses."

Ginny shivered at the thought, but she was just plain shivering too.  It's a good thing she'd slept with her coat and boots on or they'd be gone as well.  

"It was the biggest gully washer I've ever seen, that's for sure and certain," she agreed, but it came out more like a hiss by the time she tried to talk with clenched jaws to keep them from chattering from the cold."

It was one achingly miserable night.  She'd pull out all her teeth by herself before she'd admit to it, but she pert near cozied up to the cowboy to try to borrow some of his body heat.  That's how cold she was.  

By the time the sun fancied up the sky with purty colors, it wasn't long before the damp earth started steaming.  She'd probably slept on her feet and was dreaming of coffee before she noticed Hanson had a fire going while she was still huddled up with the horses leaning against the gray.  

"I figured you'd lost your coffee and your pot," she stated disbelieving that wondrous smell that promised warmth.

"When I first felt the rain, I heard the water coming from afar off, but it took a minute to realize it wasn't thunder since it never stopped rolling.  I chucked my saddle and bags up into the tree first thing before I went after the horses.  But it was worse than I could have imagined.  I think I'll have nightmares of trying to save the horses from drowning for the rest of my life."

"I'm glad for your quick thinking.  But I find it hard to believe you were able to find dry enough wood to burn."

He showed her his ripped off shirt tail.  "I had to coax it a little, I'll admit. But up that hill over there, I found a deep  pile of pinon nut shells the squirrels had piled up under a tree.  I was able to dig down deep enough to find some dry tender, enough to get it going along with a piece of my shirt. The rain was swift and furious, but didn't last long enough to thoroughly soak some of the wood.

Ginny squatted down as close as she could get without catching her skirt on fire-some was still scorched from yesterday-and put out her hands to get warm.  She looked up in surprise when he handed her a cup of coffee.  "You should drink it first.  I wouldn't feel right about taking it before you."

"I'll just chew on this jerky for awhile, so go ahead," he said.  "And here's a piece of jerky for your breakfast."  He looked over at the stream which could more rightly be called a river now.  "We'll probably have to wait to go on until after the water recedes some more.  I still have my rope on my saddle to string the horses, but they'll be a little too spooked to force them through too high of water.  Besides, there's still a lot of debree  coming down from upstream making it too risky."

He was thinking smart, but all Ginny could think of was the way warmth was finally spreading through her between the fire and the coffee.  She held out his coffee cup.  "Thanks.  It was the best cup of coffee I've ever had."

He barked a laugh, "After last night, I can believe it."  But instead of pouring himself a cup, he set it down and went to string the horses together before they could wander off like they were beginning to do.

She went over to wave the  straying horses back to the others.  "Hi-ya!"  Then she put her forehead on Smokey's and whispered, "I wish you were mine, you big beautiful hunk of horse.  You will always remind me what a good horse wrangler my pa was."

If Hanson heard, he didn't say anything.  She finally led the gray over to him by his bridle.  "Here's the last one.  But I warn you, he likes to be the first in line or he gets cranky."

"I think I can manage that."  He unroped the lead horse and switched them out.

"Thanks.  This guy's special."  She blinked her eyes to keep the tears at bay."

Ginny noticed him glancing over at her now and then as if trying to figure her out.

"What did you say you were doing walking down the road all by yourself?"

She wished to goodness she didn't have to answer that, but in a way he'd saved her life along with the horses by waking her up in time.  "After my pa died, his boss up and kicked me off the Walker Ranch for being a girl.   Plain and simple.  I went to Los Dos Osos, but nobody was hiring, at least not a girl." She snorted derisively.  So, I was trying to reach the next town, but hadn't realized how far it was.  My whole life was the ranch and seldom even went to town.  I guess I was naïve.  Desperate and naïve."

He was quiet a long while staring into the fire.  Finally he said, "Not all bosses are like that.  I'm sure if I take you to the Double H, my uncle can find somebody who'd hire you.

"Maybe when we get close, you can just point me in the direction of your town.  Wait a minute.  Your uncle is the other "H" in the Double H Ranch?"

He stirred up the ashes making sparks fly.  "Yes, my cousin Harry was his only child, but he died of snake bite.  It was real hard on my uncle, so he wrote my folks and asked if  I could come and work for him.  He wants family to inherit instead of strangers taking it over, naturally.  Well, since my older brother is in line to inherit my folk's ranch, they agreed.  My uncle's foreman Buck taught me everything I know.  But now the poor man is pretty much kept to his cabin.  He's dying of something, but nobody knows for sure what it is.  It won't be long, I'm afraid, that he'll be keeping to his bed.  Buck's a really good man.  Use to be that nobody could best him at anything, 'cause he was the best of the whole bunch.  But now...it's just sad, really, really, sad."  

She saw that he got a little glassy-eyed just thinking about it.  "So that's when your uncle put you as the foreman?"

He slowly nodded.  "Some of the others weren't all that happy about it since they'd been there longer.  I'll be the first to admit, some of the boys can rope circles around me.  I still bunk with them though my uncle's offered for me to move into the big house.  But most understand it's a family thing and are giving me their respect, though some grudgingly."

It must be nice, she thought to herself with a pang of jealousy.  Her pa had worked hard for his boss.  He'd be fit to be tied, madder than a hornet and angrier than a bull if he knew how his boss had treated her.  She may be eighteen, but she was still an orphan, and God had something to say about widows and orphans.  

She looked up and saw him studying her.  Ginny sure hoped he couldn't read her mind, and it made her blush.  It wasn't that she begrudged him his inheritance, it's just that life was just plain ol' unfair sometimes the way God passed out blessings.  At least He'd sent along a ride for her on her favorite horse, of all things.  She had understood that Smokey belonged to her father, but the boss said no.  So that's all there was to it.  Now she didn't even own a change of clothes.  Her mother's Bible had washed away with the few other things she'd called her own.

"What?"  She finally asked after the third time she glanced up and caught him looking at her.

"Nothing," he said looking over at the river.  "Is it just me, or does it look like to you that the water has dropped a whole bunch."

"Sure as shooting, it sure has!"  she said jumping up.

They went over and stood watching side by side.  "I haven't seen any tree branches floating by, have you?" he asked.

"Nope.  I'd say the worst has passed.  Throw a stick in it and see how swift it goes down or if it still has some whirlpools."

He did.  It looked like a lazy river.  "Stay here while I test it.  I'll come back and bring the string of horses across if it seems to be okay.  But I'd feel safer if you'd ride behind me on the saddle rather than bareback at least while crossing.  Then you can go back to your gray once we're on the other side."

"Okay, I guess that would be smart."

He saddled up his horse and rode out across the river keeping a wary watch over for anything that might pop up out of the water and knock into them.  When he came back, he grinned like the man in the moon while saying,  "Did you see?  It didn't even come up to my horse's belly." 

But she was frowning.  "Did you see that rattler swimming past you?" Ginny looked nervously upstream.  He did too.

I don't guess they'd be thinking about biting as much as escaping from the deluge.  I think we'll be safe enough."  

He took his boot out of the stirrup, she put hers in and he pulled her up.  She was nervous enough, but put her arms tightly around him and clung to his waist.  In no time at all, they and the horses were across.  A few balked, of course.   But now it was behind them, and they only had fifteen more miles to go.

"Do you want me to stop so you can ride your gray?" Hanson asked finally.

"Maybe later," she mumbled with a shiver.  Ginny was still hugging the man for his warmth, not for any other reason.  Her clothes were still damp from last night and the fire and coffee were back there a piece.   Fact was, she was still cold, cold to her bones.  The sun was even causing her coat to steam with the heat meeting the cold.  She sneezed, "Ahh-choo!"

"Bless you.  It will heat up here soon, and we'll be both complaining about being hot."

She grunted in agreement, but didn't want to talk.  However, she remembered to ask something that had been bothering her.  "How come we don't see anybody else on this road?"

"It's mostly a back-ways trail for driving livestock.  Most prefer the main road that goes through the towns.  Out here it's just us horse wranglers, cattle drivers or outlaws."

"Really?"

"Yep, but I haven't heard of any trouble lately from rustlers.  But it doesn't hurt to keep the rifle handy."

Ginny looked over her shoulder as if some bad hombres might be riding up behind her.  "Did your rifle stay dry after last night?" she asked.

"I cleaned it this morning, but if not, I've still got my pistols.  They kept dry under my coat."

"Good."

"But you can understand my concern finding you out here alone.  It's not someplace a young lady should be.  It's down-right dangerous in fact."

"I guess I took the wrong road out of Los Dos Osos back there."

"Easy mistake if you aren't used to being in town, I suppose."

Then they rode on in silence.  Ginny relished the feel of the sun on her face and then on her back.  

"I don't think I'll stop since we're only five miles from the ranch."

"Like I said, you can just drop me off in town."

"Can't do that.  You're going with me to the Double H Ranch."

"What!  You can't do that against my wishes."

"Sure can and will.  I don't want to go out of my way in order to go through town.  I'm tired, these horses are tired, and you are in no condition to be out looking for work neither."  He glanced over at her and smirked.  "You are pretty dirty even if you had to almost swim in the flood to let the horses loose."

She just snorted in response, but realized he was right, of course.  Ginny knew she must be a sight.  Problem was, she didn't have so much as a change of clothes, just the ones are her back, thanks to that gully washer last night.  She sneezed again, but he didn't bother to say, "Bless you," again.

So, soon they were riding through fields of cattle with cowboys waving their hats or sitting too stunned to see some little gal riding behind Hanson.  Curiosity had them cranking their heads to watch them go past.  

Hanson knew he was going to catch it in the bunk house later.  Maybe he'd stay in the main house tonight.  Thinking of a nice soft bed after soaking in a nice hot bath sounded too good to be true as did sitting down to a nice home cooked meal.

When they passed the barn, Joe ran out and grabbed the halter.  "Go on in, Hanson.  Boss is waiting for you and is a little concerned about what took you so long.  We thought you'd be here by now."  But Joe was looking over Miss Ginny all the while he was talking.  She ignored him staring nervously over at the porch where two men stood waiting.

"Come on in and meet my uncle,"  he said before glancing up, groaning to add "and the preacher."


She slid down before he could get down and help her.  But the little gal waited to follow him over to the steps.

"Uncle John, this is Miss Ginny Rawlings from the Walker Ranch.  And Ginny, this is my uncle Harold and our minister, Rev. Gordan.

"Nice to meet you both," she stammered before quickly looking down unable to meet the preacher's startled stare.

If you could get away with kicking a clergy, Hanson would have done so.  Something about the man spelled trouble, and he was afraid he would soon find out.

Her uncle tipped his hat, but his eyes sparkled with mirth as he looked back and forth between them.  "Come on in.   Esmeralda will have supper on soon.  Looks like you've a tale to be told."

Ginny backed up to the puny fire trying to soak up its heat.  It was better when Hanson knelt down to stir the coals before adding the fuel that now burned brightly.  Truth be told, he was still chilled himself, though it had helped to have her body heat near him on the ride in today.

"So did you have trouble, son?" his uncle asked once they were seated in the sitting room. 

"Everything was fine until last night.  You know where that trickle of a stream crosses the road about half way here?  That's where we camped, as usual.  Well, there was a flash flood.  It woke me up in the middle of the night when I heard the rumbling coming, even before we felt a drop of rain."  His uncle was listening intently.  "If it wasn't for Miss Ginny, I don't think I could have gotten the hobbles off all the horses in time.  We would have lost three or four of the new horses, that's for sure.  It was a wild river there for awhile tossing trees like matchsticks."

"You mean to tell me that you camped out all alone with this young woman, Hanson?"

"Yes sir.  She'd left the Walker Ranch to look for work in town, but evidently had taken the wrong road out from there and ended up in the middle of nowhere.  Her pa was Walker's top wrangler, but he passed on recently, and Walker forced her to leave without any prospects of housing or work."  He could see how angry that last part made his uncle by observing the dark furrowed brow.

However, the minister saw it in an entirely different light.  "Let me see if I understand you."

"Yes Sir?"

"You and your young lady spent the night together..."

"No sir!  She's not my young lady.  It's nothing like you're making it sound!"

Ginny was blushing up a storm and was gulping air like a trout tossed on dry land.  

"By your own admission you, young Hanson, have besmirched her reputation, never the less,"

"Nobody knows except you and my uncle, so I expect a preacher would keep his mouth closed in such a case, or you would be the one doing the besmirching!"  Hanson was getting riled up.  He and the preacher had a bad history, and everyone knew it.

Ignoring him, the preacher went on, " The only way out of this is for you to marry the young woman, otherwise you've ruined her.  No one in their right mind would hire her once she was found out, at least not for no decent job that is."  

The man was so puffed up that Ginny wished she had a hat pin to poke him with to let his hot air out.  She snarled, "I figure that's my business, not yours, sir."  Oh, boy!  That made the man even madder.

"Now see here, young lady!  I'm trying to keep you being able to be called a lady rather than being labeled a loose woman for traveling alone with this cowboy who already has a tainted reputation."

"Come on, preacher!  You know good and well that nothing happened with your daughter accept for your active imagination going feral."

The man's face was already red, but was now turning purple.  "Uncle Harold, you tell them before he ruins this gal."

His uncle had been watching with amusement until the preacher got hot under his collar, under his ministerial collar that is.  "Well," he drawled out looking between Hanson and Ginny, "it wouldn't be the worst idea in the world."

"WHAT!"  Hanson yelled.  "You've got to be crazy!  I just met her and hardly know a thing about her.  Just because I rescued her out on the hot trail, don't tell me that now I have to get hitched to the skinny thing! Why, I'd as soon be hitched to a mule 'cause she's just as stubborn."

His uncle was hiding a grin, which wasn't good, not good at all.  "Hanson, sometimes in this life, you have to tighten your belt and stand up like a man and do the right thing.  I think the preacher's got pert near the right sight of things."

"It would only be because his big mouth would start the bad rumors.   He gossips worse than old Mrs. Wentworth."

The preacher exploded.  He reared up and in his deepest preacher voice said, "The Lord has spoken.  It is not good for man to be alone, otherwise he falls into diverse temptation.  -God has revealed to me that you must marry now since He must have sent me here for such a reason as this."

Ginny could hardly breathe.  Her chest seized up, and she was beginning to feel light headed.
The only thing she could do was to shake her head no.  The one thing she knew for certain was that this cowboy hated her stinking guts, now more than ever.

"Come on, Uncle Harold!  Don't make me do this, I beg you!"  Hanson looked like he was feeling even worse than she felt, even had some tears in his eyes.  A cowpoke never cried even if stomped on by a mad mama cow, or bucked off the meanest of mean wild horses.  That made Ginny think of her pa.  Now tears were dripping down her cheeks.   His tears were justswirling as if caught in a whirlpool while hers were turning into a torrent.

"I'm sorry, young lady, but I think it's for the best."  His uncle came over and gave her a side hug, which didn't help to dam her tears one bit.  He went on, "Besides, Hanson, she can help care for Buck.  After all, that's where the foreman is supposed to live anyway, right there in his place, which is now rightfully yours.  It's big enough for y'all."

Hanson's mouth had dropped open big enough for a horsefly and all his bug-kin to fly into.  But the preacher had finished flipping through his Bible and was ready to start the ceremony.  The man seemed determined to hog-tie them together.  Ginny was hobbled right there next to the cowboy.  She looked anywhere but at Hanson.  She was being easily led to the slaughter until the preacher asked her to repeat, "With my body, I thee worship."

That did it.  She barked, "Now you wait one dang minute, mister.  Why I've never heard such talk in my life, and you dare to call yourself a minister," Ginny sputtered.  "For crying out loud, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!  If my pa were here, he'd be grabbing you by the collar and shaking you 'till your teeth fell out.  I may be alone in this world, but don't you dare speak to me like that!"  She crossed her arms and stared him down.

He looked more wild-eyed than a calf about to be branded.  He opened his mouth once, twice, before he could say another word.  Hanson looked at her like she was crazy with his brows all the way up his forehead while his uncle was trying not to bust up laughing.  She only huffed, feeling very alone at this moment.

"I assure you, missy, this is the same ceremonial words that have been spoken down through the centuries.  I am a respected minister, I'll have you know, and in no way meant to insult you.  Just please repeat after me..."

Ginny just crossed her arms and pressed her lips together, refusing to say those words, no how, no way.  So, the preacher just went on with a nervous cough while avoiding her killer looks.  She wasn't sure of all the rest of the vows, but figured she must have been hitched, for better, for worse, starting with the worst part.  The only one who seemed to feel more riled than she did was Hanson.  He looked like a thundercloud about to burst with a rumble then lightning.  Ginny slipped out to go see that her gray was well taken care of.  She hid out there in his stall until she heard his uncle calling her in for supper.  If she wasn't so hollow that it was making her stomach grumbles echo, she'd ignore the invitation.  She sighed and shuffled toward the house where the light glowed from its windows in the dusk.  A few fireflies flittered by winking, at her, +but even that could not cheer her up tonight.

It was a mostly quiet meal with only Hanson's clipped answers to his uncle's questions.  She never had to say a word.  But afterward, when the napkins were thrown on their empty plates, his uncle stood.  

"It's time I showed you two your home.  Esmeralda has been running ragged going back and forth from here and caring for Buck there.  It will be a relief to have you there to look after him.  He's in a bad way, sometimes worse than others.  But he's always got a good word to say acting like our suffering on his behalf is worse than his own.  Ready?  Hanson, grab her pack."

The cowboy looked around his feet, before remembering his  new little wife came with nothing but the shirt on her back, well, and a skirt as well.  "All her things got washed away in that flash flood that happened.  She might have been able to grab them, but she helped me with the horses instead."

"Seems like you'll need to go into town tomorrow and do a little shopping, Hanson."

"Me?" He asked so high that his voice about cracked in two.

"You probably should ask your wife to go with you, but she might be busy taking care of Buck.  I don't like to leave him alone if I don't have to."

"But what about my duties on the ranch?" he sputtered.

"God first, then family, then work.  It appears your first duty after prayer is to see to your wife's needs."

"How am I to know what she needs?"  Hanson said exasperatedly throwing his arms up in the air.

"Ask her," Uncle Harold simply stated.  "Have her write you a list before you go in to town,  then hand the list over to Elvira in the mercantile.  She can take care of the rest."

Hanson shrugged and followed his uncle to the foreman's house, his new abode.  She followed 
in their wake.  Buck was glad to meet her.  His face lit up like a Christmas tree.  "I can't tell you how glad I am that Hanson got himself a good woman.  It will be a pleasure to have you here."

Hanson snorted and stomped out of the man's bedroom out to the parlor with a cold fireplace.  He laid some wood and coaxed a flame from a flicker.

This was the most welcome Ginny had felt since her pa died.  Already she could feel a kinship with this man in spite of his suffering.  She prayed and vowed in her heart "Please help me make his last days on this earth some of his best, so help me God"  She was also glad to see a Bible on his nightstand.  Losing her ma's Bible in the flood still left an ache.

"Tomorrow, you can tell me your favorite passages so I can read to you," she offered.

They had worn the man completely out.  But even with his eyes closed and with a clenching of pain in his jaw, he smiled.  "There's nothing I'd like better, missy."

She walked out to find Hanson grinding the heel of his hand into his eyes.  When he looked up, he said, "I can't believe how much worse he looks from when I left.  It's crazy."  His eyes were glassy.

His uncle squeezed his shoulder and said, "Maybe you can understand a little of the urgency to take care of business though I recognize it was against your wishes."

"I don't know why you didn't just hire her to do the job instead of making me marry her," he muttered.

"I don't like to speak ill of anyone, especially the clergy, but you and I both know what a dust-up the reverend would make over this if you hadn't said your vows.  For a reason I can't understand, he's taken a grudge against you, son. "

"I know, but it doesn't mean I like it."

"Good night, ma'am," his uncle said before gently shutting the door.  It was stone-cold quiet.  Only the sparking of the fireplace and a gentle snore coming from the bedroom broke the silence."

"I know this was not your choice, but I want you to remember it wasn't mine either, for what it's worth."

Hanson only glared at her, took his pack and climbed the ladder to the loft.  With a thud, he threw his dirty clothes down beside her making her jump.  She crossed her arms realizing this was the way her marriage would be, so she peeked into another bedroom.  It was small, very small, but adequate.  Soon she was fast asleep in a real bed, not on the cold ground, not in a rain storm, not even in a flood.  It was bliss. 

The next morning Hanson was gone before she woke, so she went out and collected eggs and made Buck breakfast.  He mostly ate the piece of toast and just a couple bites of eggs before he pushed it away.  But he did enjoy his coffee in spite of his pain.

She sat next to his bed eating what was on her plate.  Taking his unfinished one, she set it on the floor and asked, "So tell me about your horse, Buck."

His eyes got as dreamy as if it was a gal he was sweet on.  "She's out there probably wondering why I don't come out and ride her.  She's a buckskin, of course, with a gait as smooth as butter."

"What's her name?"

"Beauty.   What I wouldn't give to be able to sit saddle one more time on her."

That set Ginny's mind whirling.  So after washing up the dishes, she checked to make sure Buck was still napping, she headed for the barn.  That kid was there forking clean hay in the stalls.

"Hi, I'm Ginny Rawlings, I mean Hanson." She blushed.  He might think it was because she was enamored with her new husband, but it was a blush of shame for the way it had all come down.  "Can you tell me which is Buck's horse?"

The kid's eyes were big seeing for himself Hanson's new wife, if the rumors were true.  "Sure, she's right here.  I take specially good care of her like Buck would want.  I'm Joe, by the way."

After telling him her idea his smile stretched from ear to ear.

While she waited for Buck to wake up, Ginny took inventory for what they would need in the kitchen and thought about what she would need as well, a ready-made dress and everything that went under.  Surely the woman clerk would know what that meant.  She wrote the list.  Ginny chewed on the pencil, then added in a couple pair of  small men's overalls.  She might need those to help work out in the barn with Joe.  That's where she felt most comfortable, but for now she'd be happy here with Buck.  

It wasn't long before she heard him stirring.   Ginny stepped outside for just a moment and whistled.  After stepping back in, she went and tapped on his door.  After he answered, she cracked the door open and asked,  "Do you feel up to me helping you go to the outhouse, Buck?'

He grimaced, "It's better than a bedpan.  Thank you, honey."

She helped him sit up which elicited a groan, but he gritted his teeth when she helped him stand.  Ginny waited to make sure he wouldn't fall down, then she slung his arm over her shoulders, and they began the shuffle.

When he was finished with his business and had stepped out, she put his arm over his shoulder and turned toward the barn.  Joe came leading his horse over to him.  

"Do you think with a little help, you can sit on Beauty one more time?"

Buck beamed, then said, "Only one way to find out."  But first he held her halter and put his forehead on hers and whispered.  Ginny and Joe took a step back to give them privacy.  When Buck looked up, he had tears glazing his eyes, but he grinned, "Let's try it."

Both she and Joe helped push him up when he didn't have leg strength.  For a minute, she didn't know if he'd make it.  But once up, holding onto the pommel, you'd never find a prouder cowboy.  Joe lead Beauty around while Ginny held onto his leg in case he started to slide.

"What on earth do you think you're doing!"  It was Hanson. 

His temper fits were getting tiresome.  Ginny rolled her eyes and said, "What's it look like we're doing.  This is something Buck wanted to do one last time, so I'd say it's none of your stinking business."  But when she saw Buck wince, she tried to moderate her tone.  "But it's good you're here and can help him down and back into the house."

She could tell Hanson was biting his tongue in consideration of Buck.  He didn't need to hear their squabbles.  Instead he told, "You do look good up there, partner.   Beauty is the best horse on the place.  If you could tell by a horse's face, I'd say she's even happier than you, Buck."
Now Hanson's face radiated love for his old foreman.  

Between Joe and Hanson, they got Buck down and back in his room while Beauty just stood there gazing at him until he was out of sight.  Ginny led her back to her stall where she took  off the saddle.  A tear trickled out just thinking about that poignant moment seeing Buck astride his horse.  She'd never feel sorry for what she had done for him no matter how much Hanson berated her.

So she was in shock when she returned to the house to see him take his hat off, looking down as he said, "Sorry I yelled back there.  It just scared me thinking how Buck might get hurt.  But you handed the cowboy his dignity back, if only for a moment.  I'll never forget the look on his face as he sat atop his horse.  Thank you,  Ginny.  That was a mighty nice thing you did there."

She was speechless as he was about to leave when Ginny grabbed the list off the counter.  "Wait!   Here's the list for when you go to town."

He glanced down and looked back at her, "What do you need the overalls for?  They're too small for  me."

"I used to wear them to ride and to muck the stable.  They are cheaper than a ladies' whole  saddle get-up, that's for sure."

He just grunted and left, so she went in to see how Buck fared.  He was sleeping with a smile on his face.  Ginny put a hand over her aching heart and went out quietly and shut the door.

Late that afternoon, she saw Hanson ride by with a wagon half-full of feed and salt licks.  He was back from town.  She kept working on their dinner, a soup that Buck might be able to stomach.  She'd also made bread.  It was still warm.  She set a place for Hanson at the table in the kitchen, but she planned to eat with Buck and help to spoon his supper into his mouth.  The man woke weaker than a kitten, but grinned through his pain every time he saw her.

"You're the prettiest thing I've laid my eyes on in more than a month of Sundays.  If I wasn't a  sick old man, I would have flattened young Hanson out and stepped right over him to stand in front of the preacher myself to exchange vows."  

She blushed.  "Is your sight going bad or something?  I have a mirror on the dresser in my room, and I know what I look like.  But I wish you'd had a chance with me too," she grinned and added, "but I don't know if you could ever love me more than you do your horse."

A gentle laughter came up out of his chest cloaking her with joy.  "All I can say is that Hanson is one lucky fellow."

He ignored Ginny's snort of disbelief.  "I doubt he'd quite agree to that assessment, Buck.  Remember how I told you how the preacher clinched us tighter than a bear trap and just as painful?"

Buck sighed.  "It might take Hanson a bit of time to get used to the idea of marriage instead of flirting with every skirt in town, but he'll settle down before long, I can promise you that."

The image of her husband flirting didn't set well at all.  So when she heard him in the kitchen setting down the parcels from her list, she just ignored him and spooned another spoonful into Buck's mouth.  He didn't eat much, but at least she did get some good beef broth into the man.  

"Want some bread now, Buck?"

Just a couple bites.  I want to taste it, but my stomach tells me I'm full."

She slathered some butter on a half slice of bread and handed it to him.

"You're quite a catch.  Someday that Hanson of yours will wake up and realize it."

She shrugged her shoulders and said, "His Uncle Harold said he'd come by in a bit to chew the fat and then get you ready for bed.  But do you want me to read you another passage of Scripture?"

"Nothing I'd like better, sweetheart."

His endearments filled some mighty empty places in her heart.  She opened his Bible up to where he'd asked her to read.  Buck's eyes were closed, but she knew he was still awake and so she read Ezekiel chapter one.

When she got to verse 23, he put his hand on her knee and said, "I know this book is weird and wonderful, but this is the part I wanted to hear, so go ahead.  She read on...

"And under the firmament were their wings straight...

And when they went, I heard the  noise of their wings,

like the noise of great waters, as the voice of the Almighty,

the voice of speech, as the noise of an host:

when they stood, they let down their wings.

And there was a voice from the firmament 

that was over their heads, 

when they stood, and had let down their wings. 

And above the firmament that was over their heads 

was the likeness of a throne, as the appearance of a sapphire stone:

and upon the likeness of the throne was the likeness as the appearance

of a man above upon it.

And I saw as the colour of amber,

as the appearance of fire round about within it...
I saw as it were the appearance of fire and it had brightness round about.

As the appearance of a bow that is in the cloud in the day of rain,

so was the appearance of the brightness round about.

This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord.

And when I saw it, I fell upon my face..."

He gently patted her knee.  "Thank you, darling.  That's enough.  You see, that's me.  I've folded my wings and will stand one day before that throne.  I also will fall on my face before His glory.  It will be a sight to behold, alright."

The man had such a peaceful look on his face that she kissed his forehead knowing he'd already fallen asleep.  She whispered,  That is a beautiful thought, isn't it, you dear man."

Ginny sighed and stood gathering their dishes to take to the kitchen.  She stiffened her back in case she'd have to face her new husband.  As soon as she walked out, she about jumped out of her skin at the thud of more of his dirty clothes being thrown down, this time barely missing her head.  She just stepped over them and continued to the sink adding his dishes to the pile.   She thought, sometimes there were pleasure horses to ride, and then there were work horses.  She knew what kind she was.  

But Ginny paused when she saw the brown paper packages on top of the groceries she ordered.  Her hand were shaking  as she nervously untied and saved the twine, then folded back the brown paper.  Under a couple pairs of overalls were two of the prettiest dresses she'd ever seen.  She gasped and held up first one, then the other.   They even looked like they'd fit.  She fingered through the underthings next, nicer than any she'd ever worn.  Hanson must have given free reign to the woman Elvira at the mercantile and paid the pretty penny all this cost sight unseen by him.  She'd thank him tomorrow.  For now Ginny just put on water to boil.  There was no way that she'd put on her new things without a bath first.  She hauled the copper tub to her room.

The next morning finding Hanson once again,  she remembered him saying her first night here that he ate breakfast with his uncle to line out their day.  So, Ginny made the coffee, then whisked up a batter for pancakes.  She'd asked for syrup, which she found in the crate from town yesterday. She smiled.

But Buck wasn't up to eating more than three bites out of the stack she'd made him.  She could tell he was fading fast.  He slept more and more.  It was all she could do to keep liquids in him, coffee, tea, broth and water.  She wiped his face with cool rags and finger combed his hair which made him sigh.  

"That sure feels fine, sweet girl.  Do that anytime you want."  He managed half a smile before he fell back to sleep.

When Hanson came in that night, he caught her in the kitchen before she could take broth to Buck.  He asked gruffly, "Do you want to go to church tomorrow?"

She swung around since his voice had startled her.  He hadn't spoken hardly since their wedding vows.  Ginny quickly said, "I'm staying here with Buck.  He's fading fast."

Her words seemed to wound him, not about refusing to go to church with him, but the news about Buck.  He took the cup of broth she'd made the man, saying, "I'll take it to him tonight."

Ginny tried to shake away the feeling that he'd stolen some precious moments away from her time with Buck.  But she knew he loved the old man too.   

"He's asleep."  She had Buck's plate of chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes ready for when he came out.  Hanson thanked her, but sat down to eat in silence.  Ginny would eat later. Hanson would most likely want his Saturday night bath, so she put on water to heat.  She pulled over the  copper tub next to the cast iron stove.  He glanced up and nodded.

Though Buck had noticed and complimented her all day on her new dress, Hanson had not noticed, or if he had,  he'd not said a word.   She shrugged.  It was not even worth a sigh.  He'd never think more of her than as a fellow prisoner in their marriage.

The next morning she took some toast and coffee in to Buck.  He glanced  up and smiled, but was obviously in a great deal of pain.  He was finally willing to take the laudanum the doctor had left for him last week.  It was most likely why he slept so much.  

"Hey, pretty girl.  Did you come to read to me from the Good Book?  How about a Psalm.  I don't think I can follow that Ezekiel fella anymore."

She gave him a sip of coffee, but didn't even try to get him to eat the toast.  Ginny opened up to the twenty-third Psalm and began, but he was in a deep sleep before she finished two verses.  She kept reading knowing she needed it as much or more than he did.

The ranch was still quiet.  She'd forgotten Hanson's uncle had told her there was a church picnic today.  He'd at least had the courtesy to look downcast that she couldn't join them.

Buck was in and out of delirium.  He kept muttered his horse's name.  That gave Ginny another idea.  When he slipped back into a less agitated state, she ran out to the barn dragged a whole bale of hay into the house.  Cutting the wire, she spread it out over the plank floor all the way into Buck's room.  He was still softly snoring, so she ran back out with an apple in her hand.   Holding the halter, she led Beauty over the threshold.  At first the horse balked.  Then with the apple temptation before her, she finally clopped inside the house.  Ginny held her breath as she led the huge animal into Buck's room.  

As soon as the horse whickered, Buck's eyes flew open.  He looked disorientated until he saw her face.  The man smiled at he held out his hand to his horse.  The creature somehow knew the state of his owner and gently laid her head butting up against his shoulder.  Buck gleamed petting his Beauty until his arms failed him.

Just then, Hanson barged in the house yelling, "What on earth?"  He stormed into Buck's room and stilled.  He saw the smile on the man's face and took off his hat as if it was a holy moment, which it was.

"I'll get your uncle," she said with tears streaming.  She ran and knocked firmly on the ranch house door.  Esmeralda answered then twisted her apron.  "Is it Buck?"  Ginny nodded.  I think you and Uncle Harold need to come."

It was a somber room Ginny left to lead the horse back to the barn.  Thankfully, Joe was there to see to Buck's horse.  She'd tell him later what she'd done, but was glad he did not question her now.  She didn't trust her voice, afraid she'd begin weeping.

On the walk back to the cabin, Ginny realized that she was not just mourning Buck's immanent death, but she was still mourning her father.  Taking care of Buck was as if she had the opportunity to care for him, something that a man-killer horse had robbed from her when her father died so quickly in the dust of the corral as she looked on in horror.

Word seemed to spread as one cowboy after the other stopped by to pay their respect.  Ginny only kept coffee perking, but was glad when Esmeralda brought cookies over, then supper to the quiet house.  Nobody had much appetite, however.  It was Hanson's uncle's turn to read Scripture to his old friend.  No one knew if he could still hear, but she clung to hope due to the peaceful smile on his face.  As they all watched,  Buck let one long breath out, but never breathed one in, except on the other side in heaven.  She ran to weep alone on her bed.  Ginny had only known him a couple of weeks, but felt almost as close to him as she had her father.

Her door opened and she heard a pair of boots coming in.  The last person she wanted to see her tears was Hanson, so she hid her face in her pillow.  A gentle hand patted her back, but it was Harold's, not Hanson's voice she heard.  He said softly,  "I can't thank you enough, Ginny, for everything you did making Buck's last days as happy as you could.  Hanson told me what you did, first letting  Buck sit astride Beauty one last time, then bringing his buckskin in to say his goodbye.  I can't think of anybody else who would have thought of such a thing, but I know it meant the world to Buck, before he," he coughed covering his emotion, "before he left this world for the better one in  heaven."  He went on, "I know God sent you to us, sweetheart, at just the right time, even if it was a rough start with Hanson.  God will also lead you on from here."

Ginny caught her breath, wondering if he meant God would lead her "on from here" as in away from here? It was swallowed in the grief she was feeling, but was sank in the bottom of her stomach making her feel sick.

Instead of going to town, Uncle Harold asked the preacher to come to the ranch to say a few words before they buried Buck next to Harold's son in the family graveyard.    The ranch was full of those who wanted to pay their last respects, but also seemed full of curious glances at Hanson's new bride.  

Though Esmeralda had been cooking for hours, the church ladies brought even more food as the town folk mingled with the cowboys in the ranch house.  Ginny walked quickly to Buck's cabin to seek solace.  She went and sat in his room reading his Bible.

That night when Hanson climbed up into the loft, he threw down his Sunday clothes to be washed.  Tomorrow was wash day.  As she picked them up, an overwhelming scent of perfume wafted from his shirt she'd starched and ironed for him.  She herself did not own any perfume, so it wasn't hers.  Besides she came no nearer to him than she would a pole cat.  Her heart burned with an anger that couldn't be quenched.  Over and over in her head she remembered Buck saying how Hanson would get over flirting with skirts.  Evidently, he wasn't over it yet.

"Hanson," she hissed.  "Who've you been hugging?"

"What?  I probably hugged every female in the county who came to the funeral today."  But she could hear a waver in his voice.

"You know what I mean.  Fess up before I go make a scene at church sniffing every last female to find the matching scent."

"Come on, Ginny.  Don't even give me guff.  You've spent every last moment since you've been here either with Buck or with his horse.  So what if I hugged Georgia.  She's heartbroken I got married so suddenly without her awareness.  Though she didn't know Buck, she knew what he meant to me.  So what if she needed a shoulder to cry on."

"Well, don't expect me to wash a shirt stinking with some other woman's perfume," she spat.  She  opened the door and threw it out before slamming it shut.

"Good grief, Ginny.  You're making a mountain out of an ant hill."

"You want an ant hill?  I know where a hill of fire ants is.  Their bites are plenty painful.  So, if that's what you want..."

"Enough!" Hanson yelled.  He could probably be heard from here to the bunk house and to the ranch house even, but she didn't care.  She just went into her own room and slammed the door.

Instead of sleeping, she lay wide awake and played the scene with her so-called husband over and over in her mind.  Then an idea came to her.   Using her pillow case, she stuffed one pair of overalls and a few unmentionable under things inside it.  Then she dug through the laundry and found a couple of Hanson's dirty shirts.  Ginny put one on and stuffed the long shirt tails into the pair of overalls she'd pulled on.  She saw a pair of scissors she'd used when mending.  They went in as well.  The last thing she did was to put the last of the loaf of bread, a hunk of cheese, and a few apples in on top.  But she paused with her hand on the door listening to Hanson's heavy breath of sleep.  Ginny went back and grabbed up a fork as well as a tin cup.  She learned her lesson about traveling without those necessities.  She hoped to never have to share them with another man.  Her only regret was to not be able to take Buck's Bible, but it wasn't hers to have.  Oh, and Smokey.  She'd be labeled a horse thief if she took that gray, but her heart ached thinking about leaving him.  After pulling on her coat, she quietly opened the door and slipped out into the night.

Ginny walked probably ten miles before weariness overtook her just as the day was dawning.  She found some underbrush and  soon fell asleep.  When the sun was hot, it woke her up with a trickle of sweat dripping down her face.  She found the scissors in her pillowcase and held them in her shaking hands.  She began cutting leaving a jagged haircut.  She cried.  She'd not had her hair so short since she was four years old and had a high temperature.  The doctor had told her mother to cut her hair off then.  She got better, no thanks to a embarrassing hair cut.  With a few more snips, she evened it out a little as well as cutting some of the hair around her face a little shorter.  Scattering the hair to the wind, she walked on.

The first town she went to the man brushed her off before she finished asking for a job.  All she wanted was a chance to muck a few stalls to earn enough to eat.  She wouldn't mind sleeping on the hay in a livery.  Once she'd show them how well she handled horses, surely they would allow her more opportunities than using the pitchfork.

She walked on staying in the shadows as much as possible.  Whenever she heard someone coming or going on the road, she hid in the bushes or behind a tree.  That served to remind her of the day she'd met Hanson.   If only he had not hated her so.  She couldn't help wishing it  had been different.  At least he could get an annulment like she suggested in the note she left him under the other pillow on her bed.

All the emotions of the previous week drained her.   As soon as it was dusk, Ginny found a field of violets like a fairy circle to lay down upon in a gap in the shaded pines.  Her last words were a prayer for help from her heavenly Father.

Reaching the next town, she was footsore.  She was sure her blisters had blisters.  However, she trod over to the livery she saw down the street.   

"Hello, sir.  I was wondering if you could use a fella like me to help in your livery.  I can muck and feed and water your horses.  I'd only ask for enough money to eat on and would be happy to sleep here on the hay keeping watch over things."

The man looked at her too closely, but rolled his shoulders.  "Yah, my wife is due any day now, and is alvays begging me to hire help.  It's probably temporary, but I vill hire you for a few days and see how hard you vork.  Yah?"

"Yes sir," she nodded, but as soon as he turned his back, she looked up and whispered, "Thank you God."

The man was a decent sort.  He expected hard work, but he didn't know how, other than mucking manure, working with horses was play, not work to her.  She soon had her favorites.  Whenever anyone wanted to board their horses, she would jump up and lead them away while sweet talking to them and rubbing under their ears, the horses, not the owners, that is.  Most horses liked her almost as much as she liked them.  There was the occasional mean mount who would try to bite her or kick her.  She knew how to outwit them, and they soon learned that she was boss, even in her quiet ways.   But as long as she had horses to love on, she could leave the Double H ranch far behind in her mind.

Hanson had not talked with Ginny since the night of the funeral.  He'd found his shirt out in the dirt that  next morning and wadded it up as he walked to the ranch house to eat breakfast with his uncle.  But first he came round to the kitchen and asked, "Esmeralda, would you wash this shirt for me?  I like the way you do up my Sunday shirts better than how Ginny does it."

The woman grabbed up the shirt and smelled it.  His mouth gaped as she stared daggers at him before spatting and throwing the shirt back at him.  "This smells just like that gal Georgia who likes to cling to you like a ripe peach.  Wash your own shirt, young man."  She turned her back and slammed around the pots and skillet as she finished fixing their breakfast.  He tossed it out the back door, then went into the dining room to sit down with his uncle.

"What was that about?" he asked with one eyebrow cocked.  "I haven't heard Esmeralda squawk like that since Harry accidently let a chicken in he' taken to the chopping block for her only to have it still running around her kitchen headless."

"I remember that day.  It was the first time I realized that running around like a chicken with its head cut off really meant exactly that."  He chuckled along with his uncle and hoped a change of subject would let his question go unanswered.

But Esmeralda first served his uncle politely before slamming his plate down in front of him making the bacon jump and the  fried eggs almost shimmy off the plate. 

This time his uncle stared him straight in the eye.  "Is this about that yelling we all heard last night?  We all saw the way that preacher's daughter hung all over you, all but Ginny who mercifully had gone back to your cabin.  Son, I have to tell you, I'm ashamed of you for allowing that.  You need to make it right with your wife."

"Yes, sir," he answered but paid the rest of his attention to the eggs and bacon on his plate.

However, that night he came in late from a long day of moving cattle and fixing holes in the fence.  Sabbaths and funerals were important, but they were behind on the work at the ranch.  So naturally, he ate with the boys in the bunkhouse since the cook had held their dinner for them.

Later, he tiptoed into his house before climbing up into the loft.  Instead of throwing his clothes down so rudely, he'd take them down in the morning.  

In the morning, he left his clothes in a pile where they usually landed and left as quietly as he could to escape out of the cabin before she could wake and sink her claws back into him snarling.

That night, he peeked into the house and it was just as he thought, the clothes were still there and there was no supper on the table.  This was getting ridiculous.  So he sauntered back over to the bunkhouse again as if it was as normal as it used to be.  He had to put up with a little mild joshing like, "Are you still in the doghouse?" or "His that wife of yours still up the miff tree?"  But he could handle it.  However, it was one of the newer cowboys who got under his skin when he drawled, "If she was my woman, I'd be sure to keep her so happy that she couldn't wait to be back in my arms every night.  If she gets tired of you, send her my way."  The glint in his eye showed the man was only half joking.

"Watch how you talk about my wife, buddy," he said through clinched teeth.  He got up and stalked away leaving the others sitting silently around their table.

This time he went to his wife's door and knocked softly.  "Ginny?"  When there was no answer, he tried the doorknob.  It swung open only to find the room empty. "Hmm," he said under his breath, "wonder where she could be?"

He looked in Buck's room, even up in his loft.  Then he went and asked Joe if he'd seen Ginny.  "Not since the funeral, sir."

A quiver of fear sliced through his stomach.  He practically ran back into the cabin.  This time he noticed her dresses hanging from the hooks on the wall of her small room.  Hanson jerked drawers out dumping them on the bed.  He pawed through her petticoats and nightgown and some other delicate things.  "What on earth?"  Even her old scorched skirt and blouse she'd worn when she arrived with nothing else were still here.

Running across the dirt yard, he threw back his uncle's door and hollered, "Uncle Harold, I think she's gone."  Esmeralda and his uncle came out at the same time with looks of shock.

"She's a runner.  I should have known it.  She ran from the Walker Ranch, and now it appears she's run from here only taking a couple pair of overalls."

"When did you see her last?" his uncle asked scowling.

Hanson turned red and scuffed his boots on the worn carpet.  "Not since the funeral, sir, since the fight."

"What!" Esmeralda screamed as his uncle yelled in unison.

"I mean, she doesn't get up before I leave in the morning since I come her for breakfast so I didn't think much of it.  That first night, I ate with the boys after our long day knowing the food would be hot for us.  I didn't fancy a cold plate, you know.  But then tonight when I looked in, there was no supper again.  I just figured she was still mad at me, so I went back to the bunkhouse to eat.  But I got to worrying and decided to make her talk to me whether she wanted to or not.  But she's nowhere, not that I can find anyway.  Her dresses are still there and most of those other things I bought for her.  Only her overalls are gone, and of course her boots and coat."  

"Why would a beautiful young lady want to wear overalls?" Esmeralda gasped.

His uncle looked sternly at him.

He sputtered, "Ginny's the one who ordered overalls.  She said she likes to wear them to ride horses in or muck the stalls."

"Muck the stalls?" her uncle growled.  "Why would she need to do that?  That's Joe's job."

"She said she liked working with the horses at the Walker ranch," he told them.

"Do you think that she went back there?" Esmeralda asked.

"Not on your life.  The ranch owner kicked her off the place since her pa had died."  

"If she's wearing overalls, she'll probably be looking for work in a stable.   But who would hire a girl in overalls?" his uncle asked.

"I don't know what she's thinking," he said rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's because of that shirt stinking to high heaven with Georgia's perfume," Esmeralda crossed her arms glaring at him.  "I'd bet my bottom dollar," she spat.

"What's this about your shirt smelling of Georgia's perfume?" his uncle asked incredulously.

He looked everywhere but at his uncle until the man barked, "What have you done, Hanson?"

"It was Georgia, sir, I swear it.  She started bawling and fell on me bawling her eyes out.  What was I to do?"

"Do?  You take her to her father, that's what," his uncle said through gritted teeth.  "She is not your responsibility."

"You're right, sir.  I'm sorry.  It's not like I don't care for Ginny, I do."

"Well, you certainly have a funny way of showing it then," Esmeralda scoffed.

"She was growing on me.  It's not like we got off on the right foot the way the preacher forced us to marry."

"Well, God brought her to us at just the right time.  Buck adored her.  She made him so happy.  Who would have thought to bring a horse into your cabin, huh?" his uncle said with tears in his eyes.  "We'll leave in the morning first thing and look until we find her."

"Yes, sir.  I wish I could go tonight, but I doubt I could get too far in the dark."

"We can just hope somebody took pity on her and took her in," his uncle said rubbing his jaw.  He suddenly  looked old, something Hanson had not noticed before.  It must be the grief of losing Buck, now Ginny.

"Or else some bad hombre stole her on the trail," Esmeralda huffed and spun away.

"Do you think that might have happened," Hanson managed to say turning white in the face.

"It wouldn't be the first time, son.  This close to the border, it's a dangerous place for women to be left alone and unprotected.

Hanson thought he might be sick and turned around and lost his dinner over the porch railing.  He pumped a bucket of water to throw over his mess before Esmeralda chewed him out for ruining her flowers.

Then he dragged himself home feeling lower than a snail leaving a trail of slime. 

They left just before daybreak.  The dark was being overcome by the light of a new day.  At first they stayed together.  But after having no luck finding her in the next town, they split up.  Send me a telegram tonight at El Pinon.  I'll send you word at Dry Creek if I hear either way."

"Thanks, Uncle Harold.  This means the world to me.  She means the world to me, but I'm a little late in realizing it."

"Buck told me he had confidence that you would wake up to that fact.  Just find her and bring her home."

They kicked dust, one going Northwest, the other Southwest.   When Hanson arrived at Dry Creek, he tied his horse up to the hitching post in front of the mercantile.  He walked in hopeful to find her beautiful brown eyes.  But instead, it was a skinny fella with a big red bushy beard.  He was desperate to ask, "Say, have you heard about anybody coming across a pretty young gal come this way?  She might be wearing overalls..."

The man harrumphed.  "How can you call her pretty if she's audacious enough to wear overalls, young man?"

Hanson had to bite his tongue not to tell the man what he thought.  He then crossed to the sheriff's to ask if they'd had any trouble lately with bad characters in the area.  

"No, sir, but there's been sightings at a town just south of us that one of the Hemming brothers has been around.  I hope he doesn't come here, but we'll take care of him if he does.  They think he might be on foot since his horse was shot out from under him before he got away the law."

"Thanks."  But his stomach curdled at the thought of his Ginny running into that outlaw.    

Thinking of bad things happening to good girls, he forced himself to enter the saloon in town.  He went up and bought a mug of cider.  "Have you gotten any new girls here lately, mister?"  Hanson tried to ask casually, but his hands were shaking.

"It's been about six months or so, but the ones we got are real purty.  You interested?" The lecherous man grinned showing off rotted teeth.

"No thanks," he said with relief.  He left before he finished his drink.

Rather than a hard bed on the ground, Hanson decided he'd rather spring for a soft bed tonight.  Besides, he could kill two birds with one stone by asking if they'd hired a young girl recently to clean or cook.

The man looked at  him curiously.  "You lose somebody, mister?  If she was running from you, I hope she didn't have a good reason, cause we don't take kindly in our town for the abuse of a young lady."

"No, no, it's not like that at all.  It was just a misunderstanding," he sputtered.  Then went on trying to explain without spilling everything.  "You see, she'd been taking care of our much loved old foreman who was dying.  But she might have thought that we didn't need her anymore, but we do.  We all miss her."

He still looked suspiciously at him, but handed him a key to a room.  Hanson said defeatedly, "Thanks.  I'll return later."

"Our dining room is open from six until eight, then again for breakfast."

Hanson nodded to him and left to board the gray.  He'd brought the horse just in case he might lead him to Ginny by some miracle.

He threw a boy his reigns and was about to leave when someone poked him in the back with what could only be a gun barrel.

"Hand's up and keep quiet about it. You too, boy, if you know what's good for you.  Now bring me the rope off that horse's saddle so I can tie him up, then you, boy."

Hanson glanced over to the boy to see wide eyes looking at him.  It was Ginny!  She put a finger to her lips before dropping her hand.  She went over to Stormy and pretended to get the rope while she was pulling his rifle out of its scabbard at the same time.  

The man swung around when  he heard her cock it, "Why you little..." but Hanson tackled him.  The outlaw's pistol went off, but Hanson was able to finally shake it loose from his fingers before socking the man in the nose.  But the man was strong, so strong that he wrestled over on top of Hanson and was trying to get his pistol out of his holster.   A shotgun blasted sounding loud enough to wake the dead,  but it was the man's dead weight that fell on him.  

People came running, but all Hanson cared about was taking his Ginny in his arms.  "Are you okay, sweetheart?"  He grabbed her and clutched her to his chest.

"Did the bullet get you?  I was so worried I couldn't get a shot off without it going through that stinking man and hitting you too."

He held her back looking her over.  "Did his pistol shot get you?"

"No, I'm fine, Hanson."  She looked a little discombobulated.  He embraced her tightly in  his arms beginning to kiss her forehead, her cheeks, then her lips.

When somebody chuckled, they looked around to find the livery owner chortling   as the sheriff dragged the outlaw away.  Hanson couldn't tell if he was dead or alive.

"I had my doubts she vas a boy, too pretty, but who vas I to contradict her."  He patted Stormy.  "So this is the gray you talk about so much, huh?"  He laughed low.  "I can see vhy it vas so hard to leave him behind.  But this guy?  Why did you leave him too?"

She looked at Hanson and could only shrug.  "I guess I didn't think he wanted me around, thought it would be easier this way for both of us."

"Excuse us, sir, and thank you for taking care of my Ginny, but I need to go send Uncle Harold a  telegram letting him know you have been found."

"What did you do that's different," he asked surveying her as the man was sending the message.  

"Must be the overalls," she said with a grin.

He looked her over some more saying softly, "You are so beautiful, Ginny.  I thought I'd die when I realized you were missing.  But let me look at you, for a minute.  Somethings different, but I can't put my finger on it."

"Seriously, Hanson," she giggled.  "You're funning me."

"No, wait.  You don't have your hat on, or your coat, but there's still something else.  Then his eyes grew big, "Your hair!  You cut off your hair!"

"Has anybody ever told you that you are a little slow sometimes?" she asked giggling some more.

Instead he ran his hands through her short locks and sighed," you're so adorable, that I didn't notice right off is all.  I like it.  Well, I mean I like your long hair better, but you are awfully cute this way still."

She tilted her head and studied him.  "You can't be serious," she finally said.

"Of course I am.  It's you, I love, Ginny, overalls and short hair to boot.  That's why I didn't notice right off."

She suddenly blushed.  "I don't know what to say," she stammered.

"Just say you'll forgive me for allowing  Georgia to cling to me and stink up my shirt with her crocodile tears.  I think if I ever get another whiff, I might throw up.  And please, darling, come back home with me.  I miss you."

"You do?  But I don't think we should leave tonight.  Stormy looks like you rode him hard today.  He probably deserves to stay in the livery until tomorrow.  I can stay with him and take care of him."

Hanson got a funny look on his face before he said, "I already got us a room for tonight.  You know we never had a honeymoon or nothing.  How about it?  Please, sugar?'

Her mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out.

"We are married, you know,"  he continued with the tips of his ears turning pink

She could only nod.

He didn't know if she'd just agreed that they were indeed still married or if she had just agreed to go to the hotel with him, but  he'd go with the latter.  He picked her up and swung her around making her squeal and hang on to his neck tightly until she was laughing.

"First we'll hurry to the mercantile to get you something to wear before it closes, then we'll go order a bath--first for you, then for me--then we'll go down and eat in the dining room. After that we'll go up to our room and get to know each other a little better." He winked making her blush some more.

"You  know, I don't believe I ever gave you a wedding present.  How about if I give you Stormy for your very own as long as you promise never to leave me again."

She squealed and hugged him tightly again.  "Thank you, oh thank you, Hanson," she cried happily then she kissed him making him so weak kneed he almost fell down.

"Want me to tell you a little secret?" she asked shyly.

"Sure," he answered in surprise.

"Well, the first time you told me your name, I thought you were bragging saying you were handsome.  Then I realized you said your name was Hanson.  But I think I might stick with calling you, Handsome, if that's okay."

He kissed her good, right out in the middle of main street as startled people walked by finally realizing the livery boy was a girl.

He put her down, waved his hat around and shouted out, "Don't worry folks, we're already married."  Then he grinned as they strolled down to the mercantile.  She may  think she was picking out a dress, but he was buying her a ring as well.  It's the best way he knew how to brand her as his.

The next morning when they went to get Smokey from the livery, Mr. Andresson greeted them cheerily.

"Guess vhat, Ginny.  When I vent home and told  my wife all about it, once she knew you vere safe, she laughed and laughed until she had her first labor pain.  Our daughter vas born this morning about 2 AM.  Guess vhat ve name her?"  He beamed, then said, "Ve name her Ginny after our favorite livery boy."

Shared laughter is always the best.  Hanson shook his hand and then saddled the gray himself while she told her boss, "He gave him to me for a wedding present."

The man winked.  "The vay to a man's heart is good cooking, vhile the vay to Ginny's heart is a good horse, yah?"  She laughed, and then they left to return home, home the best place to be.

Uncle Harold was waiting on the porch for them.  He helped Ginny down, then hugged her.  "You sure know how to worry an old fella," and he winked at Hanson, "and a young fella too.  Come on in.  Esmeralda has made a spread for you."

The woman came out just then and ran to embrace Ginny, crying.  "Oh, you darling girl, you had us all so worried!"

"I'm home now," she grinned looking over at Hanson making the man blush.

They sat down together including Esmeralda, though she kept hopping up to bring out more food until no one could eat another bite.

Afterwards, Uncle Harold stopped them.  "I feel lead to read a portion of Scripture to you young folk."  Hanson and Ginny sat down looking at each other.  He read in I Peter 3...

"Likewise, ye wives, be in subjection to your own husbands; 

that if any obey not the word, they may without the word

be won by the conversation of the wives;

While they behold your chaste conversation coupled with fear.

Whose adorning let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair,

(and Ginny fingered her short hair which wouldn't see plaiting in the near future)

and of wearing gold (and she looked at her wedding ring),

and of putting on of apparel (and she smoothed down her new dress);

But let it be the hidden (person) of the heart,

in that which is not corruptible, 

even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit,

which is in the sight of  God of great price.

For after this manner in the old time the holy women also,

who trusted in God, adorned themselves

being subjected unto their own husbands:

Even as Sara obeyed Abraham, calling him lord:

whose daughters ye are, as long as ye do well,

and are not afraid with any amazement.

Likewise, ye husbands (now it was Hanson's turn to squirm), 

dwell with them according to knowledge,

giving honour unto the wife,

as unto the weaker vessel,

and as being heirs together of the grace of life;

that your prayers be not hindered."

Then the man prayed a special prayer over them.  They left quietly pondering all this in their hearts, speaking not a word until they got to their cabin.  But then Hanson surprised her by saying, "Hey, little wife, I forgot to do this the first time, so allow me..."  He scooped her up, laughter and all, and carried her over the threshold before kicking the door shut behind him. It was time to begin again as being heirs together of the grace of life as God was giving them a second chance to do it right this time.  And they did.