Teaching Miss Maisie Jane (9 page)

Maisie
Jane blushed again. “Still sore, but better.”

Jake
got up grinning. He got dressed and started opening some tins.

Maisie
got dressed and tried to eat a perfectly dreadful breakfast of congealed sausage from a tin but it made her gag, so she ate something Jake called a prickly pear that he’d picked off a
cactus. He peeled it wearing leather gloves, and cut the purple flesh of the fruit into slices, and fed it to her off the tip of knife.

Looking
doubtful, Maisie tried it. She smiled, her eyes lighting up. “Such, a strange little thing,” Maisie said looking at one of the fruits that he hadn’t cut up. “But, I like it.”

“Good,
cause I picked a sack full. But, I don’t want you touching them, it takes leather gloves to get past the needles.”

Maisie
packed up her valise, and Jake took it and the few things in the cabin out and stowed them wagon. Then, he came back and carried out the feather mattress and put it in the back of the wagon.

Maisie
stood looking around the little cabin, and realized that she didn’t mind staying in the little shack and wondered if Jake’s house would be bigger or maybe the same size. Jake talked about homesteading, but she didn’t know what that meant. The houses she’d seen since she’d come west were small, built of timber or logs and occasionally out of some kind of mud. Nothing at all like what she’d been lived in back home, but she couldn’t really say she minded. She picked up a shirt that Jake had changed out of and brought it up to her nose and sniffed. It smelled of Jake, of sweat, of salt, of desert sand. She inhaled again and felt herself go a little soft inside. It smelled of strength, of hardness, and of kindness. It smelled of her husband—her husband. Her husband. Considering the things she’d been doing lately she’d better get used to the idea that she had a husband!  She didn’t know him very well yet, but she hadn’t found any glaring faults with him yet. She rubbed her bottom. Well, except, that he thought he was always right about everything, and that he had the right to tell her what to do. But everyone always tried to tell her what to do. Jake was no different there. He was big, strong, and good looking, and she knew he was a man of principles. He was courageous; he had saved her. And even though she didn’t want to admit it, she had been very stupid. He wasn’t a man who could be pushed around and he did have a temper. But he was good man. She thought about that and more. Her life had been turned upside down in the last ten days but she wasn’t unhappy about the changes. Maisie Jane rubbed her bottom again. She didn’t like that he thought he had the right to spank her!  She brought her hand around and rubbed her belly as she thought about something else. Jake said he was planting his seed in her. Goodness, that meant she could have a baby!

Jake
came to the doorway. “Maisie Jane we have to leave.”  He looked at her face, and she gave him a beautiful smile, and a knowing look that raised the front of his trousers up in a peak. “What is it?”

Maisie
Jane shook her head looked down at his shirt demurely. “As you said, we have to leave.”

Jake
grinned a wicked grin, and walked over to her and kissed her on the forehead. “You got those squiggly-thumping feelings again?”

She
nodded and spoke into his chest. “Yes, but, I don’t want to get undressed again. It’s all those buttons on my shoes—they take forever to fasten.”

Jake
chuckled. “You won’t need to take your shoes off.”

One
more thing Maisie Jane thought, as Jake bent her over the bed footboard, flipped her dress and petticoats up over her back and dropped her pantaloons. He was inventive.

The wagon wheel dipped into deep hole and Maisie Jane cried out as she bounced on the wooden seat, landed hard and bounced sideways. Jake made a grab for her when the wagon jolted again and dragged her across his lap. “Hold on,” he grunted as he struggled to keep the wagon in the road.

Maisie
Jane was grateful that Jake had saved her from being bounced out of the wagon onto the ground but she was also perilously aware of her position over his knee.

Jake
reined the wagon to a stop and then drove it off slowly over some high buildup on the side of the road and into a desert, and pulled the brake. Maisie had twisted around and was looking at him over her shoulder.

“Does
this remind you of something?” Jake asked grinning and he raised his hand.

“Nooo…”
Maisie squealed but Jake didn’t land the smack, instead he lifted her up and sat her on his lap and laughed.

“Ouch!”
Maisie said. “No fair teasing me. Are we stopping for a rest?”

“Yeah,
the horses need rest, and so do we,” Jake said and he lifted and dropped her off the side of the wagon onto her feet. He joined her and stretched his back.

“Who
is this friend of yours that we’re going to visit?” Maisie asked walking around and swinging her arms and legs. “Is he a deputy too?”

Jake
shook his head. “No, he’s a young man that came real close to being hanged.”

Maisie
Jane turned to him with a questioning look and then followed him as he went over and checked the harness and poured a minimal amount of water into two buckets.

“Was
he bad man?” Maisie Jane asked.

Jake
took her hand and they walked following the dry riverbed. “No, he was bad boy,” Jake finally answered. “His name is Brett Madison. When he was a kid, he didn’t like going to school, or having to obey his Ma. He thought being a gunslinger or a bank robber would be an exciting life. So, he ran off, was getting real hungry and he runs into some guys who took him in. These guys are big drinkers, big talkers, and big on being stupid. They’d planned a stage robbery, only they’d done a lot of drinking and lot of talking in a saloon. I was in town on another matter, but one of the saloon girls tips me off on what she heard. Me and another Deputy set up us a trap. We sent out a stage, no silver shipment, no passengers just the two of us. I’m driving; the other deputy is inside. Sure enough, these idiots try to rob the stage. Two of ‘em get killed, two of them get caught. And, there’s this fifteen-year old kid holding their horses for them. According to the law, he’s as guilty as they are. We take the survivors in and put them in front of the judge. That was Judge Willie McGee, then. He was tough, but he was a decent man. He sentences the men to two years each in the penitentiary on charges of stupidity. He actually said that right in court. Then, he calls me into his office and asks me what I think we should do about the boy. Neither of us wanted to send that boy to the penitentiary. I won’t tell you what happens to boys sent to the penitentiary with a bunch of rough men, but it’s bad, real bad. We talked it over and Judge McGee puts Brett Madison in my custody to take him back home to his Ma.”

“Good,”
Maisie Jane said clapping her hands with delight.

Jake
shook his head. “Brett didn’t think so at the time. Taking Brett back to his Ma was a five-day job and the Judges orders were clear. By the time I delivered that boy to his Ma he was to be turned around to appreciate that his Ma was trying to raise him right. Every day, for five days, I gave Brett the licking of his life. It wasn’t a spanking; it was a licking, and a hard one, with my belt. After five days, he couldn’t sit, he could barely stand, but I put his butt into a saddle for some hard riding every day. But, by the time he got delivered back to his Ma that boy didn’t want nothing to do with breaking the law again.”

“And,
he grew up to be nice boy?”

“Yes
. Brett grew up to be a real good man. I was always traveling, always on the move hunting someone down. If I was up his way, I’d stop in and check with his Ma to see if he was behaving. I took him to the woodshed and time or two, which he sure didn’t like. His Ma died when he was twenty, and he filed a claim for a homestead the next year over by Elco. Last time I saw him, he’d married Charlotte Bundy, the daughter of Harrison Bundy, the mercantile owner. They were due to have a baby. That baby should be about two years old now. Brett should be expecting me. I wrote to him about four months back to tell him I was quitting the law and I’d be by.”

“What’s
his wife like?”

“I
only met her once, she was bit taller than you, pretty, and blond. Brett was sure smitten with her,” Jake said shaking his head.

“You
didn’t like her,” Maisie Jane guessed. “Why?”

“Charlotte
was bit uppity for my taste. Talked about owning things all the time, about how her folks were going get her things, real furniture, and china and books. To my way of thinking, those things she talked about were more important to her than her husband or the coming baby.”  Jake shook his head. “And, she sassed Brett, right in front of a man she didn’t know -and that wasn’t right. Brett should have taken her in hand for that but he didn’t, he just seemed embarrassed by it. Brett was real pleased about the coming baby though.”

Jake
looked at Maisie Jane and put his hand on her flat stomach. “How about you? Do you want babies?”

Maisie
Jane nodded and blushed.

Jake
picked her up and swung her around and kissed her. “I wish we had some time to work on that, but we have to get back on the road. We lost some time this morning, not that it wasn’t worth it, but I think we’re going to have to sleep rough tonight. This section of road is bad, so I want you in the back of the wagon on the feather mattress. You’ll be safer back there or at you won’t go bouncing off all together.”

Maisie
Jane didn’t think she was safer. So far, the rough roads were bouncing her all over the back of the wagon, throwing her this way and that, and she’d been hit twice by things coming undone from the supply packs. She’d finally hid under the driver’s seat and pulled the feather mattress over to cover herself. When they finally stopped for the night, she was bruised, tired and filthy.

Petulant
. As Jake did the chores that needed to be done, he considered his little wife’s mood and decided it was petulant. When she’d ask for some water to wash, he’d had to tell her no. They couldn’t spare it until they reached the southern point of the Little Humboldt River and that was a couple of hours away. She’d stomped off in one of her little hissy fits, muttering about being filthy, and how uncivilized and despicable it was to not clean, and that she was bruised and sore and wrinkled. Wrinkled?  Jake shook his head, who cared about being wrinkled?  He knew the last five hours had been hard on her, but it hadn’t been easy on him either. He felt like his bones had been shaken out of their joints. He’d listened for a long while, gave her some time to let off some steam and when he’d heard enough, it was enough.

“Maisie
Jane, hush up!” Jake snapped. “Set yourself down and behave or I’ll give you something to complain about.”  That little gal was so mad she flounced her butt down on one of her little trunks and with a squeal shot back to her feet and gave him that freezing stare and walked off.

“Don’t
go far,” Jake warned over his shoulder.”

He
was going to have to something about those temper tantrums and moody spells, Jake thought but not tonight. He’d have to cut her some slack. Maisie Jane was city girl and she didn’t appreciate living rough. This evening might not be so great but his morning had sure been surprising and fun.

Maisie
Jane screamed, and screamed again. Jake dropped the makings of a fire, leap to grab his rifle, and took off running. There was another scream, and he could hear fear and terror in it. He ran toward the sound and pumped his rifle, getting ready to shoot anything or anyone that was endangering his wife.

Jake
stopped and looking around. Maisie was standing stock still, tears running down her cheeks. He reached for her searching the area with his eyes but didn’t see any danger.

“Maisie
Jane what’s wrong?” he demanded.

She
burrowed into his chest. “Big, big teeth, horrible,” she sobbed.

“Wolf?”
Jake demanded searching the area again.

She
was sobbing too hard to listen. “What scared you, Maisie Jane?  Was it a wolf, a coyote, a wild dog?  What?”

She
shook her head and continued to sob, so he picked her up and carried her back to camp keeping watch the whole way.

Finally,
he got Maisie Jane to calm down. “What did it look like?” he demanded sternly.

Maisie
sucked in a big breath. “A pig, sort of,” she said her voice wobbling. “But, not like a farm pig. It was big, black and hairy, and it had horrible bottom teeth that went up across the snout.”  She put her two forefingers up against her nose to demonstrate.

“Boar,”
Jake said. “I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never seen one. From now on you’re not stepping five feet away from me, understand?”

Maisie
nodded and wiped the tears from her face.

Jake
went over to the water barrel and doused his handkerchief and came back and wiped her tears, and kissed her on the forehead and handed it to her.

Maisie
used it to wipe her face neck and hands and handed it back and Jake used it clean his own. Minimal water use at this point in their journey was critical. The horses needed the water to keep going,

Jake
was heating up some beans when he heard the horses whinnying, nickering and moving around restless. A few seconds later, he heard rustling out in the desert. He made a sign of silence to Maisie Jane and lifted her up and put her inside the wagon bed. “Get down and say down,” he ordered. It wasn’t three minutes later, when that black devil raced across the campsite and went after the food. Jake shot once but it didn’t drop. It turned on him with a wild screech and grunt. The second shot dropped it, dead, not two feet from him. He stepped over and nudged it with his rifle and then kicked it with his boot. Definitely dead.

“Did
you kill it?” Maisie Jane whispered peering out from under the canvas.

Jake
went over the wagon. “It’s dead. Have you ever been to a butchering?”

She
shook her head.

“Stay
in the wagon then until I say you can come out. It will be messy, but we’re eating pork tonight or at least near to it.”

Jake
dragged the boar over to a yucca tree, strung it up, and slit its throat.

“Hail
to the camp!”

Jake
jerked around, rifle in hand and ran back to the wagon. “Get down and hide,” he whispered to her. “Who hails?” he shouted.

There
was a string of Spanish, which Jake answered back and a man walked toward their camp leading his horse.

“Hail,
my friend Jake Maddox,” the man said with a heavy Mexican accent.

“Hail,
my friend Juan Ramos Alvarez,” Jake answered and lowered his rifle as his friend walked into camp and they shook hands.

“I
heard a woman’s scream and gunfire, my friend,” Juan said. “I came to see if help was needed.”

“No
help needed, my friend. I shot a wild boar,” Jake answered.

“Boar!
  I haven’t seen one in years. Back in the days of my father, there were many. They can be very dangerous. Speaking of danger, my friend, you have a gun pointed at your back.” Juan said lazily.

Jake
jerked around to find Maisie Jane pointing his Walker Colt, six-shot, the barrel shaking in her tiny hands. He moved to the side and closed his hands over hers and removed the gun and placed it in the bottom of the wagon. He threw back the tarp and helped her down.

“Juan
Ramos Alvarez, I’d like you to meet my wife Mrs. Maisie Jane Maddox.” Jake said introducing them.

Maisie
Jane gave a curtsy and the man smiled and looked to the sky. “Jake Maddox, a married man. I should expect snow tonight. It is very nice to make your acquaintance madam. Congratulations on your marriage. Well, Jake if there is no trouble, I will not intrude.”

“You
are not intruding, my friend. Would you like some boar meat for your supper?” Jake asked. “I’ve got it strung up and bleeding out, but we can’t possibly use all that meat. We have no way of storing it and no time to cure it.”

“That
my friend, I will accept. I am going by a Paiute village tomorrow. A gift of meat would win me some favor.” Juan said. He nodded his head at Maisie Jane.

Jake
lifted Maisie Jane back into the wagon, and walked off with his friend.

A
few minutes later, Maisie Jane heard a horse gallop off and Jake came back with a large piece of meat and several large sticks. He shoved one through the meat and fashioned a spit over the fire. He went to the wagon, picked up his Colt revolver with a sharp look at her and shoved it into the holster and put it back into his saddlebag. Then, he took a shovel and went back to where he’d gutted the boar, dug a pit and dropped the remains of the beast into the pit and covered it over with sand.