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Hurricane Utah Territory, October 1870
It was a windy day, and Hertha almost lost her hat as she rode after a stray heifer. As she chased the animal back into the herd, the beast bawled at her, tossing its head back. Hertha chuckled, pushing her hat lower on her head.
“How are things going back there?” She looked up at Raswell, who rode at the front of the herd. He was far enough away that she could barely make out the smile on his face.
“Well enough,” she called, falling into place behind the cattle. Though she hated wearing her bandana, the dust at the back was smothering, so she pulled it up over her mouth and nose.
It was a good day to move cattle. The sky was clear enough, with just a few clouds here and there. The land spread out, nearly empty and vastly wonderful as far as the eye could see. Virginia, while also nice, wasn’t quite so wild.
When the sun hit its peak in the sky, Hertha reached into her saddlebag and pulled out some dried beef. They didn’t plan on stopping for another few hours. Up ahead, her husband’s silhouette repeated her actions.
She adjusted her position in the saddle, trying to make herself comfortable. While she’d gotten used to long hours of riding, her legs would still be sore when she dismounted. There had been quite a few times when she’d woken up with pain in her back from sitting strain and sleeping on the ground.
Even with the little things that made her new life difficult, Hertha still thanked God for it. She wouldn’t have changed a thing, aside from Raswell’s father. Him she could do without.
And there was a good point to driving cattle for the next three days. They didn’t have to worry quite so much about Raswell’s father. Mr. Walden had proven himself to be trouble, but he had yet to bother them outside of their home. They could only hope he kept that pattern.
When they had set up camp for the night, Hertha laid down in the grass, stretching her arms and legs. She stared up at the darkening sky, contentedly tired from a hard day of work.
“I’m sorry, darlin’, but you can’t sleep yet. You’ll regret it if you skip supper.”
With a sigh, Hertha threw a mocking glare at her husband and stood. He chuckled and tended to the horses while she started cooking. Beans seemed like the best idea, along with some of the dry bread they’d brought.
“How’s supper coming along?” Raswell asked when the horses were grazing and steam rose from the pot.
“As soon as you can get a bowl, you can eat.” He hurried to find two bowls and spoons, eager as a little boy.
“Here you are, ma’am.” He winked. Hertha hid her blush by turning to the pot and filling the bowls. While she wasn’t entirely sure how to react to things like winking, she did enjoy it, just a little.
The two sat beside each other, neither minding when their elbows bumped together. The fire crackled, making the open land seem every bit as good as the house. When they’d finished eating, Hertha leaned her head against his shoulder with a sigh.
“How did I live so long without knowing this kind of freedom?” Raswell moved so that his arm was around her shoulders, pulling her close.
“I wondered the same thing when I first came here. So many people are driven to build cities and rail lines, but this . . . this is more beautiful than any of that could ever be.”
Sitting there with Raswell, a wonderful and confusing thought came to Hertha. It was the sort of realization that makes its mark on you, for better or worse. Her face reddened as the exact words for the feeling she’d noticed came; she was in love.
She smiled, closing her eyes and enjoying the warmth from both the fire and her thoughts. After a time, though, Raswell sighed and pulled away from her. He stood, moving to his bedroll on the other side of the fire.
“I suppose we should get some sleep. We’ll be glad for it tomorrow.”
Though what she really wanted was to share what she was thinking, what she was feeling, Hertha stood and laid out her bedroll. While she tried to sleep, she watched the fire die, still thinking. The idea of loving Raswell kept a smile on her face. Turning her eyes to the stars and the glowing moon, she thanked God for her husband, the land, their life together. She wouldn’t trade those things for the world.
