Beatrice and the Beast, page 6
Zelletta approached carrying the Winchester he had purchased.
‘Can you shoot a rifle?’ He asked.
‘I’ve shot tin cans off a wall with my father’s old Sharps musket.’
‘One day you might have to shoot at a man. Do you think you could do that?’
She looked at him horrified.
‘Goodness no,’ she gasped. ‘I couldn’t even point a gun at a man never mind shoot him.’
‘You’ll be surprised what you can do when your life depends on it. But no matter. We’ll ride that bronc when we come across it.’
She stared in awe as he slid the Winchester into the empty saddle boot and stuffed the cartridges into one of her saddle bags, but despite her concern that she was facing a journey full of unfathomable perils, she held her peace and waited, calmly on the outside, but trembling with trepidation on the inside, for him to mount his horse. Once he was in the saddle, he took up the lead rope of the mule and headed slowly away. Beatrice gently touched her heels to the sorrel’s flanks and gave him his head and he obediently, fell in behind the mule.
‘We’ll take it easy for the first few miles,’ Zelletta said. ‘It will give you time to get used to riding that way and it will give the hoss a chance to get used to you.’
That’s very considerate, you big oaf, she thought. Perhaps I could give you a lesson in manners to repay your dubious kindness.
As though he had read her thoughts, Zelletta turned in the saddle to regard her. She could not see his eyes which were in shadow under his hat. But uncannily, she felt as though they were staring deep into her soul which unnerved her considerably and all she was able to do, was give him a nervous smile and hope he hadn’t read the clear contempt written on her face a moment earlier.
SEVEN
After less than two hours of riding, Beatrice began to feel the effects of hardly ever sitting astride a horse. Her inner thighs were incredibly sore from rubbing against the saddle as were her genitalia. Her back and thigh muscles ached from squeezing the horse’s flanks and having to roll with the movement of the animal and her buttocks felt as though they had been beaten and bruised by a heavy log. The hat was making her brow sweat where it touched her forehead and the back of her neck perspired profusely and itched beneath her hair. She longed to stop in some shade where she could dismount from the horse and give some respite to her sore and aching body and she became desperate to remove the hat and take up her hair for a while in order to scratch at what irritated her to the point of madness. But when she lifted her head from where it had been slumped on her chest and stared at the man in front, there was no sign that her guide planned to make a stop any time soon. As far as she could tell, he had never even looked around to make sure she was still following. He simply kept doggedly on at the same pace for mile after tortuous mile. She felt so miserable and wretched, she wanted to scream for him to stop and would have done were it not for the inbuilt stubbornness that was part of her nature. For despite her agonising discomfort and pain, she refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing her begging for some respite and determined, despite her misery, to keep going for as long as she was able.
After three and a half hours of riding through endless prairie lands, he finally, called a halt by a wide, shallow creek and dismounted. Beatrice didn’t even realise her horse had stopped, she simply felt numb all over and was close to losing consciousness as she sat swaying in the saddle with her chin slumped on her chest. Zelletta, seeing she was close to falling off the sorrel, hurried to her side and lifted her down from the animal before sitting her on the ground in the shade of a small cottonwood. Satisfied she would not move, he set about picketing the animals near enough to the creek to allow them to drink and also graze on the plentiful grass that covered the area.
He returned to the girl and lifted her into his arms before carrying her to the creek upstream from the horses and mule. She moaned a little as he lifted her but made no other protest. Once he was on the edge of the creek, he sat her down and cradled her head in the crook of his arm while he scooped water into his hand and gently bathed her face which had turned ruddy and was perspiring from the heat. When she felt the water on her face, she opened her eyes and her tongue tried to lick at the cool liquid that dripped from her face. The man scooped more water and trickled some onto her parted lips and searching tongue, which she swallowed hungrily. He continued to splash her face and allow her to drink a little at a time until she was able to comprehend where she was and what was happening. Once he felt she was able to understand, he questioned her angrily.
‘Why the hell haven’t you been taking in water while you rode?’
She stared at him as he still cradled her head on his arm, until she became fully aware of his angry questioning.
‘What?’ She asked hoarsely.
‘Why weren’t you drinking water during the journey?’
‘Because we haven’t stopped for me to drink any.’
‘You’ve got a damned full canteen hanging from your saddle. Why didn’t you drink from it?’
‘Have I? Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I would have thought you’d have the goddamned sense to look. No wonder you nearly passed out, you can’t keep going in this heat without taking in water, it ain’t good for you.’
Tell me something I don’t know, you big oaf.
He stared at her face and she felt certain he had read her thoughts. However, the only comment he made was about her health and capability to get back on the horse.
‘We’ll rest up a spell until you feel fit enough to ride.’
‘I don’t think I’ll ever be able to remount that horse. I’m sore everywhere and ache all over.’
‘Then you’ll have to walk.’
His uncompromising attitude angered her and she struggled to sit up from her position in his arm. He lifted her to an upright position and questioned her before he would allow her to sit unaided.
‘Can you sit up on your own?’
She flapped angrily at his hand on the small of her back.
‘Yes, I’m not a baby.’
‘You sure as hell act like one.’
He went to the bank of the creek and laid down on his stomach before removing his hat and ducking his head beneath the water. With his head still submerged, he scrubbed at his hair with his hands then lifted and tossed his head sending streams of water over his shoulder, some of which wet the girl who had been in the process of struggling to her feet. She glared at his back as he scooped water into his mouth but held her peace. Instead she knelt on the bank a few feet away and after removing her hat, splashed water on her face and after tossing her hair forward, dabbed some onto the back of her neck.
‘When you’ve finished, get back in the shade of that tree,’ Growled Zelletta. ‘I’m s’posed to deliver you in good condition, but you ain’t helping much.’
‘I’m not a horse.’
‘Maybe not but you could easily pass for a mule, you’re as stubborn as one.’
She huffed before speaking again.
‘I need to go.’
‘Go where?’
She gave him an angry glare and felt sure he was purposely trying to embarrass her.
‘You know what I mean.’
‘No, I don’t.’
Her exasperation finally overflowed.
‘I need to pee you great lumbering beast.’
‘Then why didn’t you say so?’
‘It isn’t something a lady talks about openly with gentleman, even a dubious one.’
‘That’s okay, cos I ain’t no gentleman, even a dubious one. There’s some shrubs and bushes upstream aways, you can go there.’
She looked horrified.
‘What about snakes?’
‘I doubt if they’ll look.’
She ignored his attempted humour.
‘I don’t want to get bitten by one. Can you make sure there aren’t any around first?’
‘No,’ he said abruptly. ‘Go and do what you gotta do and stop being a baby.’
She scrambled to her feet.
‘If I die of snakebite,’ she cried angrily. ‘I will never speak to you again and I hope Jacob holds you responsible and refuses to pay you.’
Despite her soreness and aches, she stormed off toward the bushes a few yards away upstream and because she was disinclined to linger in the bushes any longer than was necessary, soon returned and hurried to where he sat beneath the cottonwood, eating a chicken leg.
‘Sit down and rest a spell,’ he said. ‘You might feel better after some food.’
She sat down and took the chicken leg he handed her before biting off a small portion with her even, white teeth. When she had eaten every bit of meat, she was able to strip from the bone, he handed her the canteen of water he’d brought from her saddle.
‘Get some water inside you and once we get under way, take regular sips from the canteen.’
She drank some of the water before voicing her doubts.
‘I don’t think I can go on,’ she said mournfully. ‘I want you to take me back.’
‘I cain’t do that, I’ve already invested too much time and money into this venture and I ain’t gonna give it up because some spoilt child finds the journey not quite to her liking.’
‘Then I’ll go back alone, it shouldn’t be too hard to find my way back and for your information, I’m neither spoilt nor a child.’
‘You give a damned good impression of one. And for your information, that hoss belongs to me and so do the clothes you’re wearing. So, if you gonna go back, you’ll have to walk and if you walk, you’ll do it, wearing your own clothes and shoes.’ He pondered for a moment. ‘I’ll have the Stetson back as well. You’ll have to wear that foolish little hat you arrived in.’
She was in a situation she could not get out of and she knew it. There was no chance of her being able to walk back alone in a land she knew nothing about. She had no sense of direction which on its own would be enough to doom her to failure and she would in all likelihood, perish out there.
‘You are despicable Mister Zelletta. If you were a gentleman, you would take me back to Wichita instead of allowing me to suffer untold misery for the next, god knows, how many days.’
‘If I were a gentleman, I would never have taken Zimmerman’s money. Instead, I would have told him this land ain’t for tender young women from the east. But if I had, he would have hired somebody else to bring you to him, somebody who might be even less of a gentleman than I am. So, you should be thankful you got me and not some gunny who would make sure you were delivered in not quite unsullied condition if you get my drift. By the way, it won’t be days, it will be weeks so you’d better be prepared for a long journey.’
Her mouth dropped open and she gasped. She was not so naïve that she did not know what he was implicating. However, she felt sure Zelletta didn’t see her as an object of desire. His motives had been made clear, his interest in her was solely for financial gain and nothing else. However, she feared if she had to travel on horseback for weeks rather than days, she would probably arrive at her destination in such a poor state of health, Jacob would refuse to let her in.
Zelletta broke into her thoughts with an order.
‘Take a good drink from that canteen, then fill it up from the creek, that way it’ll see you through ‘til we come to water again.’
It made sense so she complied and then hung the full canteen from the saddle horn within easy reach. It had previously been hidden by her valise which her companion had taken and found a place for on the pack mule.
Because he had adjusted the stirrups to accommodate her shorter legs, they were now even higher on the saddle and she was unable to mount without the man’s help. So once again, she was lifted aloft by his strong arms and with his big hands encircling her waist.
Once they got under way, she felt the soreness returning and also the aching in her buttocks, thighs and back. After an hour of riding it had become unbearable and eventually, she stopped the sorrel and dismounted by swinging her right leg over the pommel and lowering herself to the ground by holding on to the horn. Zelletta didn’t need to look around. He knew instinctively, she had stopped. He wheeled his horse and trotted back to her with the mule in tow. She stood leaning against the horse with her hand gripping a stirrup strap and her head resting on her arm.
‘You okay?’
It was a stupid question and he regretted asking it as soon as the words left his lips
‘I can’t go on,’ she cried. ‘I’ve tried so hard but I’m finding it more impossible with every step the horse takes.’
He dismounted and ground reined his horse leaving it and the mule to graze on the tall yellow grass.
‘Would you prefer to walk a spell?’ he asked.
She lifted her head from her arm and he saw she had been crying.
‘I’ll try,’ she said with a sniffle.
Zelletta took up the reins of both horses after attaching the mule’s lead rope to his saddle.
‘Come on then,’ he said gently. ‘We’ll take it easy until you’ve walked the stiffness out of your legs.’
He set off walking at what for him, was a slow pace. But because her legs were considerably shorter, she found herself having to hobble along behind at a greater pace than she was comfortable with and her stiff legged gait found her dropping farther back with each yard they covered. Furthermore, the pain she had experienced whilst riding, abated only slightly now that she was walking and so, despite her best efforts and will to carry on through the pain, she found herself flagging with each step she took. Pretty soon, she stopped altogether and flopped down amongst the prairie grass.
Zelletta returned and stood over her. She lay on her back staring up at the man who, from her position, looked like a giant as his huge form cast a shadow and blocked the sun from her face.
‘You’ll have to go on without me,’ she said dramatically. ‘Leave me here to die. At least then, I won’t hold you up.’
‘Is that supposed to make me feel some sympathy for you?’ He asked sardonically. ‘Maybe it would be best if I did leave you here. There ain’t much of you, but you might make a few mouthfuls for the wolves and coyotes and then the vultures can pick your bones clean. At least you would have been of some use and made the wild animals happy for a spell.’
A look of horror crossed her face and the threat of becoming some wild animal’s dinner, gave her the motivation to hastily, scramble to her feet.
‘You wouldn’t,’ she said uncertainly.
‘I thought you were dying?’ He questioned with a grin.
She glared angrily as she realised, he’d used underhanded means to call her bluff.
‘I’m a little better now I’ve rested for a while.’
‘We’d better get going then, there’s a trading post around fifteen miles or so ahead on the Chisholm Trail. If you don’t hold us up any more, we should make it by nightfall.’
Beatrice looked crestfallen. She clearly wasn’t able to walk half a mile let alone fifteen.
Zelletta mounted his horse and looked down at her.
‘What’s it to be? You gonna walk or ride?’
Neither choice was preferable, but she clearly couldn’t walk fifteen miles, and so decided to give riding another go. At least travelling on horseback would be quicker than walking and so she wouldn’t have to stand the pain for quite so long. She reached up to the horn and tried several times with no success, to pull herself up while the man sat his own horse and watched none committedly. Finally, she gave up and turned her head to regard him with a look of resignation on her face.
‘Can you help me up?’
He spurred his horse to her side and extended his arm to offer his hand. She reached her small hand to his and he gripped her slender wrist before lifting her easily, but instead of allowing her to clamber onto her horse, he shuffled his butt back toward the cantle and sat her sideways across his thighs.
‘What are you doing?’ She cried.
‘Making the journey easier for you. You ain’t gonna be able to ride that hoss for a mile never mind fifteen. This way we’ll make good time and won’t have to keep stopping.’
‘I cannot ride this way, it’s unethical.’
‘Okay, I’ll put you back on your horse.’
Despite her misgivings, she had to concede, that what almost amounted to sitting on his lap, was far more comfortable than sitting astride her horse.
‘No!’ She exclaimed a little too quickly. ‘You are right. This way I won’t hold you up and I must admit I will be able to travel much farther like this.’
He reached down to take up the reins of her horse and loop them over his saddle horn. Then with his huge arms on either side of her body holding her in place, he gripped the reins to the bay and urged it forward. Strangely, she felt as though she belonged there and as he spurred the horse onward, she felt settled and contented. Even the soreness was little more than an irritation and though she mentally, denied it, she found she wasn’t averse to travelling in such a manner. However, she couldn’t help but speculate what her friends and family in Chicago would make of it. They would almost certainly be horrified to see her in such an intimate position with a man she barely knew.
As the miles passed, she became blissfully relaxed and gratified, not to mention snug. Until, without realizing it, her head was resting against his hard chest and her eyes had closed as drowsiness began to overtake her and finally, she slept.
