Her Cowboy: Part 1 of 4

infozoo (34)in #love • 7 years ago

“Will you be going to the summer picnic, Sandy?” Sarah asked.
“I reckon, though Jake hasn’t gotten around to asking me yet,” the copper-haired girl replied to her friend.
The sun was blazing hot and both girls were wiping moisture from their foreheads in between shelling a skirt pocket full of peas. Still, late July was a far cry more enjoyable than the sweeping chill of winter, and basking in the heat with a friend was always better than basking in the heat alone.
“Well, I’m sure he will. Why wouldn’t he? You two have been an item for… well, for as long as anyone in Heartland can remember. I’m sure he’s just been busy,” Sarah said.
“Yes, busy. He’s the busiest man I know. Sometimes I think he might be too busy for a steady girl, you know? I adore the man to pieces – to pieces! – but he sure does know how to make a girl wait, that Jake!”
“At least you know who your one and only is; some of us are still looking.”
“What’s the point in knowing when knowing simply means you’re gonna have to wait on your ‘one and only’ forever? I mean, look at me, Sarah. I’m not getting any younger!” The moment in grade 2 when Jake McGrew had dunked Sandy’s pigtails in the ink well, forever solidifying his affection for her, seemed like a hundred years ago. They had been steady sweethearts ever since, though Sandy was ready for more. She was ready to be Mrs. Jake McGrew, and her cowboy didn’t seem to be any rush to get her there.
“What’s your hurry?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I suppose I’m just ready for a change, ready to settle down in a home of my own, ready to have babies, and ready to…start my forever after. It sounds silly when I say it out loud, doesn’t it?” Sandy asked, reaching for another handful of peas, giggling.
“No, I don’t think so at all. Have you talked to Jake about marriage? I mean, have the two of you talked about it together?”
Sandy blushed. “Well, sure we have. We talk about our plans nearly every time we see each other, which is less seldom these days. He’s always so busy. I haven’t seen him since last week Sunday, after church, and usually he comes by mid-week to have supper with my folks and me, and then we walk together after dinner, but he’s missed the last few weeks.”
“Everyone knows Jake’s up to his eye teeth in work right now,” Sarah said, hoping to help her friend see it wasn’t personal. “He’s settling his own farm, working on building his house, helping your Pa too with the planting, and I even heard a few folks in the mercantile mention he was helping them too with barn raisings and calf birthing and such. Why, just the other day, ol’ Jeremiah came in, his empty sleeve dangling in the breeze from where he lost his arm last year, talking about how he would not have gotten his crops planted in time if it wasn’t for Jake… Your cowboy’s a hard working one, no doubt about it!”

Sandy knew her friend was right, and she felt embarrassed for voicing her complaints about her relationship with Jake like a spoiled child. But no one could understand, probably not even her sweet friend Sarah, how it feels to be the lowest priority on your man’s list of things to do. She loved how kind and helpful Jack was to the folks of Heartland, but wasn’t it time to let his lady know he wanted her by his side forever?
“Okay, so you’ve talked about getting married. But have you done more than just, you know, talk?” Sarah asked, slyly.
“What do you mean?” Sand asked, confused.
“Well, just that there’s that old saying that if you want to encourage your man to buy the cow, you’ve got to let him sample the milk…”
“Sample the milk…? What does that… oh! OH!” Sandy laughed, blushing as bright red as the apples on her Pa’s favorite trees. “Well sure, I mean, he’s definitely had a taste…”
Sarah forged on. “I’d say it’s time to turn up the heat then, my dear old friend. Let him know what he gets when he puts a ring on that finger, and only let him try that milk once. It’s just a taste, just a sample, and then you tell him he can have it all to himself when he takes you over to Pastor Joe and makes it official.”
“Turn up the heat, is it?” The voice who spoke could be heard from the kitchen door, directly behind where the girls sat on the porch.
“Ma! You always tell me eavesdropping isn’t ladylike,” Sandy giggled, embarrassed and curious as to what her mother may have overheard.
“Well, I don’t know what kind of heat you’re turning up, but I’m sure hoping you weren’t talking about the sun! It’s hot enough without any more from that rascal today! Now bring those peas in, girls. I’m ready for ‘em.”
Sandy and Sarah shared a conspiratory glance and smiled at one another.
“Mark my words, Sandy. No man can resist the cow when he knows how sweet the milk is. Best get to it, or we’ll be shelling peas on this porch twenty years from now listening to you gripe about how busy your cowboy is.”
Sandy hugged her friend and moved towards the kitchen door. “I’ll see what I can do, thank you for the advice, and thank you for the help with the peas. See you in town for the picnic in a few weeks, okay?”
“You betcha,” Sarah said with a wink. “And I fully expect to see that cowboy by your side, his eyes twinkling out of his head with love for you.”
Sandy waved her hand dismissively, and her skirts swishing into the house was her final wave good-bye for the afternoon.

Jake stood tall in the mid-day sun. His hat was tipped low to shade his eyes from its rays and his white dungaree shirt was stuck to his skin. He took a long swig of water from the earthen jug that hung off his horse’s saddle, and wiped the stray drops off his lips with the back of his tan, strong hand.
I wonder what Sandy’s doing now, he thought, feeling the familiar twinge in his heart when he thought about his beautiful girl. But he was strong and didn’t allow himself to linger in heartfelt thoughts too long. He had seventeen more rows to plant before sun down, and a fence to mend by lantern light after that. Dad gave me this land for my own, and when it’s ready – productive and bountiful – I’ll bring my Sandy to share it with me, and make her my very own as well. Best get back to it.

John Eagan surveyed the horizon of Heartland as he rode into town. It was a small place, barely just a dirt main street with the essentials, like a bank, a church, the mercantile, and a blacksmith. He disliked the dirt, but clearly saw his vision for Heartland beyond the dust: a booming, bustling, thriving town, the focal point of the middle territories.
As he rode into town, every settler, business owner and cowboy tipped their hat towards him or nodded in his direction. This always had a way of making him feel more like a king than the oldest son and heir of the Eagen fortune. But it suited him just fine. The Eagens owned every acre in between the Wabache and Trinity rivers, to the east and west respectively, and in between the northern and southern territories. It was a wide spread covering thousands of acres of rich, fertile land, and anyone who wanted to share in the bounty of this prosperous place did so by renting from the Eagens. Everyone, that is, except the McGrew land.
Timothy McGrew had once owned the same area of land the Eagans did now, but he lost it all in a gambling debt to John’s father, Seth. All he kept was his own family plot, and the rest of Heartland became the empire of the Eagens. Timothy, long since passed on and a victim of the bottle, had given his land to Jake, his son, and it was the one thing that bothered John. When his father’s empire became his own one day, hoisting Jake off that beautiful plot of land next to the river was going to be his first official action as new patriarch of the Eagan family. He could hardly wait.
Being an heir was hard work. It wasn’t the same kind of hard work as farming and ranching - that was for the smaller-minded folks to tolerate – but it was hard work just the same. It meant he had to know everything about everybody, so he knew when and how to exploit each tenant on the Eagan property; it meant he had to stay up late gambling and drinking, for that was the time of day when the locals shared their secrets; and it meant, as his mother was fond of reminding him daily, he owed the family a successor. For that, he’d need a wife, preferably one with good birthing hips who could give him many sons.
John was a thoughtful man, not given to rash decisions and impetuosity. When it came to making business decisions, he tried to be patient and choose a path that would lead to multiple, congruent, positive outcomes. When he needed a new horse, for example, he made sure to buy whiskey for the guy who had the best horse in the territory, and then beat him at poker after convincing him to wager his prize steed. For the price of half a bottle of whiskey, he was now riding on the back of Thunder, a black, muscular horse that was the envy of the town.
So when he thought about his pending need for a wife and sons, he applied the same level of patience and strategy. This need was growing bigger every day, and his mother relentlessly reminded him of it morning, noon and night. She was aging and he suspected she was mainly anxious to bounce a few babies on her knee before passing on. He didn’t quite understand the attraction to that sort of thing, but then again, he also intended to find a wife who would do all the bouncing, burping, changing, and general messy child-rearing activities without much need for his involvement.
Putting his head to work, he had come up with the criteria he needed in a wife, and as a co-heir of the Eagan fortune. She had to be: beautiful, lest he not want to look at her; obedient, lest she cause problems for the family; eager to have children; and she had to offer something which, by marrying him, could put him in a position to get something else he wanted.
He knew exactly who that person was.
Sandy was willowy, curvy in all the right places, but not too curvy; tall, with long copper-hair that caught the sunlight beautifully; and her hips looked sturdy. He’d known her all his life, and so he knew she was a dutiful daughter, not prone to flights of fancy which might be embarrassing for his family. But above and beyond all that, she brought something to the table which he wanted very, very badly. That is, she currently belonged to Jake McGrew. If he could steal Jake’s girl, the man would start to break down, he knew it. Maybe he’d even move away, leaving Jake’s land to the Eagans, finally. Maybe he’d die of a broken heart, and then John could assume his land for himself. Wouldn’t his father be proud of him then?
John tethered his horse, flicked a coin at a boy’s head standing nearby, and said, “Water him, boy; I’ll be back in an hour.”
Without waiting for acknowledgment from the boy, he strode into the saloon and knocked on the back door, the door which many people, those who could afford it at least, knew led to Madam Framboise’s quarters. All he needed was a quick ride on one of Madam’s beautiful fillies, perhaps the blond one today with the slender ankles he loved so much, and he’d be back on his horse and continuing on his way to go talk some business with the fair Sandy. He was certain she’d see things his way.

“You’re mopey, Sandy. Tell your old Pa what the trouble is.” Sandy was sitting in the parlor with her parents working on a needlepoint by the fading light from the window. Supper over and the kitchen tidied, it was a peaceful time of day.
“Your Pa’s right, dear. You’ve pricked yourself with that needle probably twenty times in the last five minutes! What’s on your mind?”
Sandy looked up from her sewing into the caring eyes of her parents. “I just have a few things on my mind is all. I think I’ll go for a walk before it gets dark, just to get some fresh air,” she said, pulling her shawl tight around her and walking towards the door.
Behind her, Sandy’s parents exchanged a knowing glance.
“A walk, is it? Well, best bring a jug of cider with you, in case the two of you get thirsty on that walk,” her father said, winking.
“The two of us? I’m just going to…”
“Give our love to Jake,” her mother said, smiling. “Don’t be out too late.”
Sandy slipped out into the evening air, eager to be on her way. As she walked the road towards Jake’s house, she pondered the things Sarah had advised. As she did, she flushed with anticipation at seeing her cowboy again.

Part 2 Coming Soon

Also Available on Steemit:

Return to Breckinridge: