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Authors: Kari Trumbo

BOOK: To Honor and Cherish
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“Let’s worry about that when we must. For now, let me tell you about where you’re going.” She paused and looked at Margot with a smile. “You’re headed to a horse ranch where you can rest and be away from men for a while. We’re expecting Gus back about Christmas time, though I hope we’ll see him and all the men with him sooner.”

“You said ‘we expect him back’. Who’s we?” Margot looked at Meg and waited. “And I don’t celebrate Christmas, I haven’t since I was six.”

“Well, perhaps we can create some memories for you this year. I happen to love Christmas.” It was less a question and more of an attempt to steer Margot off of the other subject.

Margot seemed to accept the non-committal answer. The remainder of the drive home they shared a companionable silence and Meg was determined this was exactly as she should have done. She brought Margot into the house and took her to her sister’s old room, since it had been cleaned so recently. It was perfect for a girl of Margot’s apparent age.

Meg watched Margot wonder at the beautiful furnishings, the drapes, and the bed, the view out of her window. Margot ran her fingers over the coverlet and looked at herself in the mirror. She touched her cheek to make sure it was her own reflection. Meg had noticed there was no mirror at the boarding house. She caught Meg’s reflection behind her own.

“Meg, look. We have the same color eyes. I feel like one of those princesses in the stories Gus used to read to me.” she spun around in front of the mirror and laughed deeply.

Meg remembered those same stories and giggled along with Margot, “I’ll leave you for a bit so you can unpack and get comfortable. Come on out when you’re done and we can talk some more.”

Margot nodded and smiled. “Thank you, Meg. I think I’ll like it here and be miserable when I have to leave.” She flopped backward onto the bed and sighed up at the canopy.

“I hope you like it here too, and let’s not think about leaving when you just got here.” Meg closed the door to give her new sister some privacy.

Margot didn’t come out of her room for quite a while so Meg began preparations for dinner. It would be nice cooking for more than herself again, and nicer still having someone to talk to. Meg thought of Rose, all alone, not far down the road. She wished she could do something. A little voice slithered in the back of her mind, it was cool and smooth,
she is alone by her own choice, you asked her to forgive you and she didn’t. It isn’t your fault. She doesn’t understand the stress of running a ranch.

Meg straightened her neck a bit as if she was stiff, and she thought about that for a minute. There was truth in those words. She’d asked for forgiveness and Rose had gotten even angrier. Though something was also missing from what the voice said, it hadn’t sounded loving or forgiving. Meg decided she’d let Rose come back when she was ready, she wasn’t going to beg for it again. Why should she go out of her way when she’d already asked to be forgiven and wasn’t?

Margot came out after Meg had prepared dinner and they shared the simple meal. Margot had many questions and Meg realized it’d been a long time since Margot had a female to talk with. In fact, it seemed from what she was saying that the only person she spoke with was the lady who managed the boarding house. The only other person she talked about was Gus and Meg got the impression her father had tried his best to, in his own secret fashion, be a father to Margot.

The more Margot spoke about her life, the more concerned Meg became about telling her who she was. Her mother had done her no favors and had made Margot’s life tremendously difficult. Even making an angry, accusatory visit to Sophie and taking things from their home. It was almost impossible to think of the problem as being two-sided anymore.

“Well, now that I’ve talked you silly with my life. Tell me about you.” Margot’s eyes were bright with excitement and she poured herself another cup of coffee.

That would to be tough. Meg wasn’t sure how much her father had told Margot about his Meg, if anything. She wanted to be friendly and honest, but maybe not completely honest. “I lost my husband last spring.” She count the months on her fingers. It seemed like so much longer now she’d had some time to heal alone. “This used to be a cattle ranch, but I plan on making it into a horse operation when my men get back.” It felt so good to be able to share her plans with someone.

“Gus’s Meg had a husband that ran a cattle ranch for him, but they didn’t own it. Gus didn’t like him.” Margot laughed and hid behind her coffee at the bit of gossip.

Meg sucked in her breath quickly and fluttered her eyes, the old jab hurt, but not as much as it always had before. “So, living in town. I take it you probably don’t know how to shoot?” The subject needed to stay off of family, at least for now.

Margot looked confused at the complete change in topic. She set down her coffee, trying to remember where the subject got derailed. “No. This is the first time I’ve even been out of town.”

“Well, if you’re going to live out here for a while, you should know how. If you don’t want to carry one, I understand. But, we are two women alone in the middle of nowhere. You should know how to protect yourself.” Meg looked her right in the eye to gauge her interest.

Margot smiled though it held no depth. “I don’t like the idea of being alone. I’d like to learn. I’ve never had anyone to teach me.”

Meg went to the barn, followed by Margot, and got an old metal pail that had been used to wean calves. It had a hole rusted in the bottom. Meg hung the bucket from a tree by a rope as their target. She walked back about twenty paces then motioned for Margot to join her.

“It’s really important, before you even hold the gun to learn a few things. First, always think about what is behind your target. In this case, it’s my pasture which is currently empty. Second, when I hand you the gun, keep your finger off the trigger.” Meg pointed to it so Margot would know what she was talking about. “Don’t put your finger anywhere near the trigger until you are ready to shoot. Understand?”

Margot nodded and accepted the pistol, pointed at the ground.

“Put your feet apart a bit. Aim by lining the back sight with the front. Pull back the hammer on the back with your thumb. Now push on the grip with your right hand and pull with your left, it’ll help stabilize it when you shoot. Now put your finger on the trigger and squeeze.”

Margot followed each of the directions as Meg rattled them off, closed one eye to look down the barrel, put her finger on the trigger and pulled. The gun jumped in her hands and the noise thundered louder than she expected. She jumped and pulled up.

“Good! See, the bucket is swaying, you hit it.”

“I’m not so sure about this Meg.”

“All right, we can take it slow. That bucket isn’t going anywhere.” Meg smiled, it would be delightful sharing the things her father had taught her to do and she was certain he would be pleased. There had never been anyone else who wanted to learn.

 

Chapter
Thirteen

 

Margot came out of her room yawning, still tired from sleep. Meg took ingredients out of the larder to make some flapjacks for breakfast.

“Did anyone teach you how to cook at the boarding house?” Meg raised half of her mouth and placed milk and eggs on the table.

“No. Mama didn’t cook so I haven’t really even watched a meal being prepared.” One beautiful black eyebrow shot up. “This isn’t going to be like shooting is it?”

“No. Want to start?” Meg smiled.

“Sure.” she smiled and wiped her hands on her apron.

Meg put the flour and other ingredients in a bowl and showed her how to mix it and pour a small amount of batter in the pan. She showed Margot how to tell they were ready to flip and how to flip them. By the end of the tutorial, Margot flipped the thin cakes like she’d been doing it for years. Meg hoped someday she’d get to teach a daughter the same way.

They finished cleaning up the meal and Meg offered to take a look at Margot’s dresses.

“Margot, how old are you?” Meg didn’t want to assume anything about her age.

“I’m sixteen, seventeen in a few months.” She sat up straighter in her seat and attempted to look mature.

“Well, by your age, you should lower the hem of your skirts and dresses all the way to your shoes, like mine.” She held out her dress to show the length. “We’ll need to look at your skirts and see if we can let the hems out or get you new ones. In the meantime, you may borrow the skirts I can’t wear right now.”

Margot brought her wardrobe into Meg’s room. None of the skirts could be altered long enough, so Meg got out some fabric and gave Margot a sewing lesson. All Margot’s dresses, few as they’d always been, were store bought or purchased from someone who could sew. Her mother didn’t do it so she hadn’t learned.

“Thanksgiving is in a few weeks and Gus and the other men should be home in a little over a month, only six more weeks to wait.” Meg attempted to not smile too much or turn red, she failed miserably.

“You seem very excited for them to be home.” Margot’s chin hitched to the side. “Is there someone on the drive you’re particularly close to?”

“Well, yes, my father is one of the men coming home.” She started.

“Your father, your foreman, and Gus…tell me about the foreman you keep talking about.” Margot giggled. “You talk about him like you’re courting, but you aren’t available. Is he?” She teased.

“Well no, I mean yes, I suppose. I suppose you’d have to ask him.” She had difficulty admitting she didn’t know if he was available to any woman he might take an interest in or if the Mary from his dream had his heart. She’d also have to be more careful about how she spoke of Jax, it would be terrible for word like that to get around.

“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t steal your foreman. When I find a suitor, it’ll be difficult for me. I don’t know how two married people act and I don’t have a dad. I doubt any decent man would want me, and if he did? Well, what if I do something wrong and I shame my new husband, too?” She looked at her hands.

“Oh Margot.” Meg gave her a quick hug. “I’ll be here for you, no matter what happens, remember that. I’ll help you, and you aren’t a shame to anyone. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Thank you, Meg, I don’t know why you seem to care so much, but it’s so nice to have someone to talk to again.”

~~~

Jax and his men made their way slowly home. After about a week of slogging around with his arm in a sling, he realized he had held the group up. It hadn’t been only the cows, he couldn’t physically ride long enough to make decent time. Gus tried on more than one occasion to get him to ride in the wagon. He flat out refused for the first six days. He just didn’t want to look like he couldn’t lead. After having to lay in the back of the wagon for a few days because of fatigue from not healing, he took what Gus said to heart.

Now that he was riding in the wagon, they were making decent time again and even making up some because they could take an easier route, through towns and along rivers they’d had to avoid on the way there. It looked like they might get home sooner than they planned. Jax wanted nothing more than to get home and make sure Meg was all right. It seemed like an age since he’d seen her. His last sight of her, sleeping fitfully, had wrenched his gut for the whole long trip.

“You got your mind on something, cowboy?” Gus looked at him like he’d read his thoughts, it was not a pleasant look.

“Yes sir.”

“Well, we’ve all the time in the world for you to talk about it, or you can keep stewing it over in your own head. Your choice.”

“Well, sir, it really isn’t something I want to talk to you about. It’s just woman trouble.”

“It might surprise you, son, but I’ve had my fair share of woman trouble.” Gus chuckled low in throat and looked at Jax through bushy white eyebrows.

Jax smiled, but remained silent. You simply didn’t tell a man you had been daydreaming about burying your hands in his daughter’s hair and kissing her soundly to see if it makes the ache in your heart stop.

“All due respect, Gus, but I think I’ll stew about this one on my own.” He laughed, a dry worn-out sound.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged and flicked the reins.

~~~

The following week passed quickly. Margot learned how to care for the horses, collect the eggs, cook a few meals, sew, and even shoot. Margot flourished with Meg’s help. Margot had confided to Meg that it felt fantastic to learn the things she’d need to be a good wife someday. She worked hard with Meg and, for a while, Margot took the place of Rose with helping around the ranch.

Three days before Thanksgiving, Meg had no work for Margot to do so she left her to read and explore the house. Meg went outside to ride her new horse, Delta Star. He didn’t take a saddle very well yet and Meg wanted to gently work on him.

Margot walked past Meg’s door, uncomfortable at the thought of looking through her room, so she avoided it. There were books in the sitting room to look through. Once there, she realized there weren’t as many as she’d thought and nothing piqued her interest to read. She wandered to the few other rooms on the main floor of the house, but what made her really curious was the second level. Meg never went there. She’d never said it was forbidden, just never mentioned it at all. She looked longingly up the stairs, then behind her at the door to make sure Meg wasn’t coming.

Margot made her way to the top of the stairs. She found a long open hallway with windows along the right side that overlooked the porch and the front of the house, and three doors along the left. At the boarding house, the hall had been in the middle of the building, but all the bedrooms were upstairs there, whereas here there seemed to be three upstairs, and three down.

At the top of the stairs, Margot looked out the window and saw Meg in the front yard, petting the horse’s nose and leading it by the bridle. She carefully came around to the horse’s right side and put her foot in the stirrup. Margot gasped, shocked to see her swing her leg over the horse’s back like a man. Her dress had a short but effective inseam which allowed her to sit a horse, ride comfortably, and probably fall off without undue embarrassment.

Margot tried the first door and found an exquisite bedroom with a sitting room. The furniture feminine, and delicate with a flower pattern embroidered into the lush fabric. Margot sat in a chair near a desk. It was a stool of sorts with a padded seat that was also covered in embroidery. She searched through the little desk drawer and found some pearl earrings and a small locket. The locket looked familiar for some reason.

She carefully tried to close the drawer she had found the jewelry in, but it wouldn’t close. Something in the drawer caught and it wouldn’t budge. Margot gently navigated her small hand through the opening of the drawer to the back, to see what the obstruction could be. She found a thick piece of folded velum and tugged it out.

The paper was a bit rumpled from having the drawer closed on it, but Margot flattened it out and looked at the page.

My Dearest Charlotte,      August 14, 1883

I have tried for some time to win your forgiveness. You have been, and always will be, my wife. I was tempted and I failed. Please search your heart and find a way to forgive me. We must reconcile this for our daughters if not for ourselves.

Sophie was a mistake, I own that. I cannot, however, leave her alone to care for the baby she is now carrying. She has begged me to take the child as our own and for the sake of that poor, helpless, little one, I do hope you will consider it. I won’t force you in this matter. If you don’t wish it, so be it. Only please understand that I cannot personally let a child of mine live in want. Sin has consequences and I’m sorry for putting you in this situation.

I’ve understood your request to be separate and have had this room fashioned for you, I pray it is to your liking and that it’s temporary until we can build trust once again.

Augustus

 

Margot’s hands trembled as she folded the letter back up.
Sin has consequences.
She was that consequence. There were too many pieces of this puzzle that fit together for the remainder not to become clear. Meg was the daughter of Charlotte and Augustus, and Charlotte had kept Augustus from her mother, Sophie. Meg was the owner of the cattle ranch, Meg was waiting for her father to return,
their
father to return. Meg had kept who she really was a secret.

Margot picked up the locket that looked so familiar and opened it. Inside it read,
Merry Christmas.
Margot’s breath came loud and fast. She tried not to sob. This had been Sophie’s locket. A locket she’d received at Christmas when Margot was six. Charlotte had come to their home and taken it back. She’d had the opportunity to make Margot’s life easier and refused. Margot looked around the opulent room and saw it in a whole new light. It now made her furious.

Why did this always seem to come back to her? Why did people hold her birth against her? She had no choice. Why had Meg not told her? Did Charlotte know she was here, did Gus? Being thought of a consequence of sin made her livid. Maybe no one cared for her at all? Margot wanted to run away, but more than that, she wanted to confront Meg.

Margot walked with purposeful strides down the stairs and out the door. Her face remained set and her eye focused. She walked right up to the corral where Meg rode the skittish horse. She climbed up the fence and yelled, “Meg!” The horse reared up on its hind legs and forced Meg to move forward in the saddle to remain seated.

The poor horse fought and danced. Terrified, it laid it ears against its head and charged the source of the noise. Margot froze in fear, she could only stare at the monster barreling toward her, the thundering hooves keeping time with her heartbeat.

“Margot, move.” She heard Meg’s voice but her focus lodged on the huge hooves coming at her. She didn’t see Meg’s face at all. At the last moment, she dropped to the ground and covered her head as the terrified horse easily launched itself over the fence, taking Meg on a wild ride.

~~~

Meg clutched the reins and squeezed her legs as the horse bucked and danced, trying to unseat her. She held on tight. If she could remain seated through this, the horse would learn that no matter what it did, it couldn’t rid itself of her weight. Her father had taught her from a young age and riding had always been one of her favorite parts of the ranch life.

After some time, the horse calmed a bit, enough for Meg to risk loosening her grip. She gently rubbed the horse on its cheek and spoke softly to it. He stopped twitching and walked over to the water trough by the windmill. He needed a good long drink. Meg took the opportunity to dismount. She tied the reins to the windmill and brushed off her split skirt as she walked over to Margot, more than a little angry. She thought she’d taught Margot better than that.

“What were you doing? Maybe you hadn’t noticed, but if I get hurt you have no way to get help except to walk.” She couldn’t keep the growl from her voice.

“Gus is your father.” Margot pointed at her, the accusation meant to fuel an argument.

“Yes, he is.” Meg wouldn’t lie when confronted with it.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I gave you plenty of opportunity. I told you who I was.”

“And if I’d told you who I was, would you have come out here? Would you have trusted me, let me be your friend? Or would you have made me jump through hoops to make up for what you didn’t have, instead of letting me give it to you without strings? I guess I prefer it like this, at least this way I had a horse to do the jumping for me.” Her battle to remain calm became more physical the longer she stood there.

“It’s your fault. You have no idea how difficult it’s been for me. Of course you would choose the easier way for you.”

“But don’t you see? It was the easier way for you, too. I was planning to tell you close to Christmas, before father got back. I wanted you to be able to welcome him back as a father, like me. I’ve thought of you like a sister since I learned of you. This may come as a surprise to you, but I only learned I had another sister a few days before finding you.”

“I want to go back to town.” Margot crossed her arms over her small heaving chest, her lower lip trembling.

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