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MCNEAL RANCH LAND, Near Cheyenne, Wyoming Territory, August 1885
“Margaret McNeal, you are going to wear a groove into the floor if you keep pacing around like that,” Abigail stated, not even looking up from the book she was reading.
The owner of the McNeal ranch didn’t even bother sparing her mother a glare as she continued pacing back and forth in front of the stone hearth. It had been several hours since Leyla had ridden off to the southern pasture to train with Chase McAllister and no one had seen hide or hair of the two since then.
John, sitting in another of the comfortable chairs in the parlor, was also trying to keep his attention focused on a book he had in his hands. “Maggie, please,” he asked calmly. “She’ll come back perfectly fine and you’ll see there was nothing to worry about.”
“It’s almost sunset,” Margaret snapped, her eyes darting between the two as though she were offended that they were both as calm as they were. “I’m going to go out there and—”
The sound of the front door opening caused everyone’s head to turn toward the entrance to the parlor. Following the sound of the door closing, two sets of feet could be heard walking down the hall.
Sure enough, Leyla McNeal, still dressed in her riding clothes and beaming brightly, entered the parlor followed swiftly by Chase McAllister, the show rider’s hat respectfully in his hands.
“I’m home everyone,” Leyla announced, though her eyes were locked on her older sister with a look that all but said I told you so.
“Welcome home, Leyla,” Abigail greeted, closing her book with a smile. “And welcome to our home, Mister McAllister.” The McNeal matriarch rose and crossed the room to where Chase stood. “I’m Abigail McNeal, Margaret and Leyla’s mother. It’s a pleasure to meet you face to face, especially after showing your skills last night.”
Chase bowed at the waist. “The pleasure’s all mine, Missus McNeal,” he replied. “Believe it or not, the traveling performance life can get to be a little routine after a while. Leyla here helped break a bit of that monotony.”
Abigail looked between Chase and her younger daughter, as though her eyes could see their innermost thoughts and memories. Still, her welcoming smile never left her lips.
“Well, I’m still pleased you could accept my daughter’s spontaneous invitation,” Abigail opined. “Tell me, Mister McAllister, would you care to stay for dinner? I have a delicious roast duck with potatoes prepared.”
“Much obliged, Missus McNeal, but I should be—” Chase began to say before a telltale growl sounded from his stomach, causing Leyla and Abigail to both giggle.
Chase laughed awkwardly at the noise. “Well, I guess I could stay for a short while, if it’s no burden to you, Missus McNeal,” he admitted.
“No burden at all, Mister McAllister,” Abigail said with a wave of her hand. “Guests of the McNeal family are never allowed to leave hungry.” She turned around to face her older daughter and John. “Would you two help get the table set up in here, please? Oh, and Maggie, please set an extra space for our guest.”
Margaret looked like she had a rebuke ready on her tongue, but her resolve was shut down as Abigail narrowed her eyes slightly. Silently, Margaret pulled John up from his chair and led him off to do as Abigail had requested of them.
Abigail returned her attention to Leyla and her guest. “While they’re setting up the table for dinner, Leyla, I want you to go clean up and then give me a hand in the kitchen. As for you, Mister McAllister, you are free to make yourself comfortable in here, though there is a wash basin just up the hall if you’d like to clean up some as well.”
Once again, Chase bowed slightly at the hip. “Mighty kind of you to offer so, Missus McNeal,” he replied. “I think I might just take up your offer on that.” With that, he turned on his boot heel and made his way up the hallway as directed.
Before Leyla could continue watching him retreat up the hallway, she felt a light tapping on her shoulder.
“Clean up, little Leyla,” her mother whispered serenely. “There’ll be plenty of time to stare and sigh at Mister McAllister over supper.”
Leyla blushed immediately at her mother’s insinuation, but she quickly beat a path to her own room in order to do as she was told.
Abigail couldn’t help but grin as she regarded everything that had just transpired.
With a little luck, she thought hopefully, maybe both of my daughters can have fine men in their lives. Provided John steps up and gives my daughter that ring he has been carrying around. It’s been weeks of them making eyes at each other and stealing kisses when they think none but the Almighty can see them. I’d like to see grandchildren before I pass on into the next life. And by George, I expect I will.
Allowing that hope to flourish within her mind, Abigail made her way to the kitchen in order to put the final touches on the sumptuous dinner that was to come.
***
AS JOHN HELPED MARGARET set up the table and settings in the parlor, he wasn’t sure whether the invitation for Chase McAllister to stay for dinner was a blessing in disguise or an omen on misfortune for his own plans.
I’ve made up my mind, and I’m asking her tonight, he thought determinedly. The ring was stowed safely in his pocket, awaiting the moment that it would be given the chance to shine forth with the new hope that John and Margaret could truly start their new life together.
Admittedly, John was still anxious about the whole thing, considering how she had reacted at his last proposal. Even without the added wrinkle of Leyla and her guest.
It doesn’t take a smart man to see that little Leyla is enamored with Mr. McCallister already, he smiled as he thought. Now all the young man has to do is make sure he doesn’t do anything that’ll give Maggie cause to skin him from end to end.
Though John wished the two well, his main focus at that moment was asking for and acquiring the hand of Margaret McNeal in marriage.
I just hope— John started to think before stopping and changing the direction of the thought. I know how important her ranch is to her, and I’d never do anything to take that away. She has to know that. She has to know I love her. She has to say yes this time. Please, by God.
***
DINNER WAS SERVED NOT long after Chase and Leyla returned from cleaning up, Abigail entering the parlor with a steaming roasted duck with potatoes atop a wide platter.
Chase, still trying to make a good impression on Abigail and Margaret McNeal, stood to help Abigail but was quickly waved away.
“Be seated, Mister McAllister,” Abigail chuckled. “Just as I told Mister Baldwin here the first time he dined with us, a guest in the McNeal home has only to enjoy themselves.”
Chase returned to his seat, noting the appreciative smile that Leyla flashed him for making the gesture. A quick glance at Margaret found her countenance to still be as impassive as stone while John gave the show rider a slight nod of his head, a silent admission that Chase had his heart in the right place.
Once all were settled in and the food began making its way around the table, the conversations began.
***
“SO, LEYLA,” MARGARET began, carving up a portion of duck on her plate as she spoke, “what did you learn today?”
Here we go, Leyla thought sullenly, but she reinforced her will and decided that she would tell the truth.
“Chase was kind enough to show me a few ways to help get Whirlwind adjusted to me much faster,” she answered serenely, though she couldn’t help but notice her sister’s slight pause at the use of their guest’s given name.
“If I may, Miss McNeal,” Chase politely interjected, “but Leyla gives me far too much credit. In all honesty, I still don’t believe that she’s only been training a few months and is already as skilled as she is. The fact that she’s riding a horse she just broke yesterday so well is a testament to what she must be learning from you.”
The compliment, spoken so genuinely as it was, seemed to be well received by Margaret. Leyla could see that her sister now gripped her utensils less tightly than before, a sign that she was becoming more open to Chase’s presence.
“Well, I’d be telling tall tales if I said that I was solely responsible,” Margaret admitted. “I like to think she gets a lot of her skill from our late father, much as I have.”
“Was he a show rider as well?” Chase asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. When Margaret gave him a momentary sidelong glance he backtracked. “My apologies for prying. It’s just I have to imagine that your father was a mighty skilled rider if the skill I’ve seen in Leyla is any indication.”
“No need to apologize at all, Mister McAllister,” Abigail chimed in, drawing the conversation her way as she knocked a few potatoes around with her fork. “My late husband was touted as one of the finest and skilled cavalrymen in the whole of the Union Army. He loved horses and he passed that love along to his daughters, both of whom have worked hard to carry on his passion.”
Both Margaret and Leyla lightly blushed at their mother’s praise, especially in front of John and Chase.
I hope Mama isn’t going to be praising me in front of Chase all night, Leyla worried.
“If shere’sh one shing sheh,” John started to say through a mouth full of duck before he remembered himself and swallowed. “Pardon me, but if there’s one thing the McNeal sisters love it’s riding horses and show riding. First day I blew into Cheyenne with Longbow I had the distinct pleasure of seeing the marvelous Margaret McNeal perform an impressive feat of marksmanship all while mounted on a moving horse.”
“John...” Margaret said quietly, looking away as John recounted the first time he had seen her.
Not so fun being on the other end, is it? Leyla thought smugly at her sister’s sudden embarrassment.
“I believe you, Mister Baldwin,” Chase replied, displaying a bit more manners than any of the others expected of a traveling showman by using his napkin to dab at the corner of his lips, where some of the juices from the delicious duck had accumulated. “There’s lots of stories east of the Mississippi telling about a lady show rider and cattle rancher who can drive a herd just as easily as she can ride frontways, backways and sideways. Come to think of it, Miss McNeal, you better watch out for Professor Monro. Sure as a mule is stubborn, he’ll try and persuade you to join our little traveling family.”
Margaret barked a laugh before catching herself, though the laugh itself had sounded more from genuine mirth than derision.
“I’m certain he would,” she countered, “but I’m happy right where I am. My father left this entire ranch to me, and I’ve got a duty to see to it that it continues to thrive.”
“Can’t say I blame you,” Chase agreed. “And might I say that your ranch is easily one of the biggest I’ve seen in the east or west.”
“And we only plan to get bigger, Chase,” John said, switching to the more informal name. “Though the ladies present may claim that I’ve been helpful in making the ranch more productive in the last few months, Miss Margaret is the real brains behind the operation. This lady’s got a head for thinking up the impossible and making it come true.”
Thank you, John Baldwin, Leyla thought, ecstatic to see that his praise was eroding her sister’s walls and making her relax. That man is a Godsend in more ways than I can count.
“Intelligent business combined with a strong work ethic and a demand for the best is all it is, really,” Margaret voiced, trying to downplay John’s praise. “But he’s wrong when he claims he’s been helpful.”
All of the heads turned to regard Margaret curiously. The brunette smiled at John’s look of confusion.
“Saying he’s been ‘helpful’ would be doing an injustice to all of his work,” she clarified, giggling quietly as she noticed John look away in mild embarrassment at her praise.
“Well, someone had to mind the ranch while you were teaching Leyla,” John retorted playfully.
“Speaking of teaching,” Abigail began, curiosity infiltrating her tone, “forgive me my curiosity, Mister McAllister, but wherever did you learn to ride like you do? I’ve seen a wide array of show riders, thanks in no small part due to my daughters’ shared passion, but I don’t think I’ve seen anything like what you performed last night... Aside from Margaret’s work, obviously.”
Now from Mama, too? Leyla groaned, unhappy at this question being aimed at Chase again.
Chase, however, seemed to take her mother’s query in his stride, a nostalgic smile lighting up his handsome features. “Well, y’all might find it hard to believe, but I told Leyla earlier that I’ve only been show riding for about five years now. And before that, I certainly wasn’t what you’d call a professional rider by any stretch of the word.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” John spoke, an eyebrow quirking up at the admission. “You seem like a man who was born in the saddle.”
“I appreciate that, John,” Chase said gratefully, “but way back then the best I could do was ride a horse at a steady gait just to get where I was going. Around that time, I was a bit of a wanderer, taking odd jobs here and there just to get by. Then one day, I met a group of show riders who took me in and showed me what it really means to ride a horse. I like to think that was the first day I really felt alive.”
“That’s exactly how I felt yesterday when I was roping and riding Whirlwind,” Leyla spoke up. “That feeling that comes from being connected to your horse, like you’ve found another part of your spirit.”
“You are definitely your father’s daughter, Leyla,” Abigail giggled, though her eyes beamed with pride.
“But she’s not wrong about that,” John agreed. “Like the Natives who taught me, the bond between a rider and their horse is almost impossible to break so long as one trusts the other.”
“It’s exactly how I felt when I first acquired old Cannonball,” Chase opined. “That sensation that makes you feel like you’ve been waiting your whole life just to meet this magnificent creature.”
“That’s the honest truth there, Mister McAllister,” Margaret stated in agreement. “There are few joys in life that compare with the knowledge that you’ve found a special creature that will follow you into the jaws of the blazing deep itself.”
***
“WELL, I CAN THINK OF one,” John said slowly, standing up from his seat and turning toward Margaret, a nervous grin spread across his face.
All eyes in the room were suddenly locked on the McNeal’s ranch boss as he reached out and gently grasped Margaret’s hands in his.
“John...?” Margaret asked quietly, unsure of exactly what was going on.
It’s now or never, John thought, anxiety and anticipation swirling like a maelstrom within him.
“Folks, I’d like to apologize for the suddenness of what I’m about to do, especially with you here as a guest, Chase, but I just couldn’t wait to do this any longer,” John declared.
Both Leyla and Abigail watched in wide-eyed anticipation as John kneeled before Margaret. As for Margaret herself, her breath seemed to have caught in her throat and her eyes were the size of $10 gold pieces.
John took in a deep breath, trying with every ounce of will he had to keep himself from letting the tension pent up within him bleed into his fingers and grip Margaret’s hands too tightly.
“Margaret McNeal,” he began slowly, “I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve told you I love you over the past few months, and I doubt I’ll be able to keep count in the future either. But I know that I mean it more and more each time I say it. And I also know that I’m never going to find a woman who can make me feel like you do, and I have no desire to try.”
Margaret chanced a glance at her sister and mother, as though looking for some indication that they knew what was going on. But Leyla and Abigail were just as stymied as she was, though it looked as though tears were starting to well up in the corners of their eyes.
“I know I’m just a ranch boss,” John continued, “but I can’t fight this anymore. Margaret McNeal, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
***
MARGARET’S BRAIN TRIED in vain to comprehend the question that had just been asked of her. He had asked before, but somehow she’d managed to convince herself that it had not truly been serious. She loved him, wanted to spend the rest of her days with him, wanted to have his children and grow old together, but at the same time, as deeply as she wanted more, she was also still afraid. So she’d been both sad and at the same time relieved that he hadn’t asked her again.
But now, finally, here he was on bended knee asking her to be his wife.
And she was afraid.
It ashamed her.
He loves me, he’s devoted to me, he respects and supports my independence and my passions, she thought as she mentally enumerated the countless reasons that she adored the scruffy Kentucky boy in front of her.
He’s just said plain as day that he wants to spend his life with me on this ranch when he could just as easily ride further west. He loves me that much.
And I love him.
Margaret realized that John and all of the others were waiting for her reply. In that moment, she could feel everything: John’s strong but gentle grip on her fingers, her heart pulsing like a piston beneath her breast, the slow inhale and exhale of her shallow breaths as she tried to make up her mind.
Life’s much better when you have someone to share it with, she remembered her mother telling her months back.
With that thought embedded firmly in her head, Margaret McNeal made up her mind.
***
ABIGAIL MCNEAL, THE matriarch of the McNeal family couldn’t have been happier that John Baldwin had finally chosen to make an honest woman of her daughter. But as the silence stretched between Margaret and John, it was all she could do not to stand up and drop the plate of leftover duck and potatoes over her stupid daughter’s head.
As Abigail and the others awaited Margaret’s response, Abigail forced herself to stay still and wait. The pair so obviously loved each other. And if Margaret didn’t let go of her fear and pride, she’d let a wonderful man ride out of her life again. This time for good.
It felt like an eternity before Margaret finally spoke.
“Yes,” the young brunette said quietly.
It was silent for a moment, no one even daring to breathe as they tried to determine whether or not they had just heard Margaret McNeal agree to John Baldwin’s proposal.
“Maggie?” John asked hopefully, his eyes shining with unbridled happiness at the thought that his prayers had been answered.
Margaret’s lips blossomed into a smile that looked as though it would split her face in twain as she pulled John up from his knees and kissed him full on the mouth in front of God and everyone else present.
Peter, wherever you are, our little girl has finally found her man, Abigail thought proudly, pulling a handkerchief from her dress and dabbing at the tears that she had failed to notice were streaming down her cheeks. She smiled as she saw Leyla mimicking her actions with her own handkerchief.
When Margaret finally broke the kiss, she looked into John’s eyes with unrestricted happiness.
“Yes, John Baldwin, I will marry you, and I promise I will never let you go,” she declared firmly.
John let out a breath that he must’ve been holding for an eternity just before he pulled her into a fierce kiss of his own, his arms wrapping around her waist.
When they broke the kiss for lack of air, John’s eyes lit up as though he were remembering something. He reached his hand into the pocket of his trousers and drew out a simple silver ring capped by a small but brilliant blue gemstone.
“With this ring, my father asked my mother to be his wife,” John said shakily, tears of happiness and remembrance gathering in the corners of his own eyes. “Maggie, I know my mother would be honored if you’d be the one to wear it from now on.”
Abigail sniffled as she watched her daughter nod her head as she allowed John to slide the piece of silver and stone onto her left ring finger, the piece moving past her knuckle and coming to rest as though it had been tailor made for her.
Leyla was still dabbing at her own eyes, the suddenness of John’s marriage proposal and her sister’s acceptance catching her completely off guard emotionally.
That’s one daughter married, Abigail thought happily. Now let’s see if we can make the same happen for Leyla and—
Abigail’s train of thought ground to a screeching halt as she looked at Chase McAllister. The handsome and pleasant show rider, who moments before had worn a smile that could have outshined the sun, had paled and his eyes bore an expression of pain at the sight before him.
That’s curious, Abigail mused. It’s rare to see a man so troubled by another’s engagement without good reason. Can’t be he fell in love with Maggie since his eyes have rarely left Leyla all night.
While everyone was still distracted by John and Margaret, Abigail allowed herself to do a quick check over Mr. McAllister, her eyes roaming over him to see if she could pick out any telling details.
He’s too polite to be another traveling roustabout with a girl in every town, she determined. No, if he had been that, Maggie would’ve picked up on it immediately and he’d have been off this ranch faster than a cattle hand on payday. No ring on his finger, nor is there any indication that there once was one there. Then again, maybe it’s been some time since it was there and the lines of where it was have simply faded.
Despite the joyous nature of her older daughter’s impending marriage, Abigail couldn’t help but feel mildly uncertain about Leyla’s interest in Chase McAllister and his interest in her.
I like you, Chase McAllister, Abigail thought, her eyes fixed on the guest seated at their table, and I pray that whatever you’re hiding about your past is nothing unsavory or criminal. But I can’t trust a man right away who blanches at a marriage proposal. I intend to find out one way or another just what your history is.
***
THEY LOOK HAPPY, Chase thought sullenly, memories of his own past and the life he had hoped to have rising toward his mind’s eye like snowflakes caught in a chilling updraft.
He had suspected that John Baldwin was more than just the ranch boss when he had arrived that morning, but to have been so close to Margaret McNeal that he actually proposed to her had blindsided Chase like a Mexican bull.
I envy you, Mr. Baldwin, Chase thought sadly. From where he sat, he could see that the love in the ranch boss’s eyes was perfectly mirrored in Miss McNeal’s. Truly, each of them had found the person they were meant to be with.
I once thought as they did, he recalled for but a moment before he pushed the memories of his past further back in his mind, refusing to let his troubles intrude on this happy moment.
The sound of sniffling caught his attention, and he turned to regard Leyla, who was currently trying to find a spot on her handkerchief that she hadn’t already used.
Well now we can’t have that, Chase thought genially as he dug into the pocket of his trousers and withdrew his own well-worn handkerchief. He gave the cloth a quick whip in order to clear it of any lingering detritus before he reached over and gently tapped Leyla’s arm.
The redhead jumped at his light touch, but when she saw the offered handkerchief in his hand, she smiled gratefully at him and took it gingerly.
“Thank you, Chase,” she whispered.
“Think nothing of it, Leyla.”.
“I must look terrible right now,” Leyla continued to dab at her eyes that had gone red with tears of happiness. “It’s just I’m so happy for Maggie.”
Chase gave her a reassuring smile as he continued to look at her. “You have nothing to apologize for, Leyla. This is a moment of happiness and you’ve every right to be joyful for your sister. And truth be told, I think you still look absolutely lovely.”
Leyla blushed at his earnest compliment, mouthing another ‘thank you’ to him before she returned her attention to John and Margaret.
Chase simply sighed and tried to take some joy from the fact that he had been privileged to be present for this intimate moment in the lives of the McNeal family, no matter how much it reminded him of his own past and the pains that resided there.
***
HE THINKS I’M LOVELY, Leyla thought dreamily.
Though anyone observing would believe that Leyla was completely enrapt by her sister and John’s engagement, her mind was reflecting on the small moment that she had just shared with Chase McAllister.
She tightly gripped the show rider’s handkerchief in her hand, as though it were a treasured keepsake bequeathed to her by her betrothed. She gave her head a slight shake, trying to clear such scandalous thoughts from her mind.
Lending me his handkerchief was simply the act of a gentleman, she deduced logically enough, but telling me I look lovely, even when I must be a mess right now, that’s something more.
Unlike her sister, Leyla wasn’t afraid to admit to herself that she thought Chase McAllister was a handsome man. Combined with his show riding skill and the eccentricities that came with being a travelling performer, Leyla found that there was a strong magnetism to him that was pulling her in.
Better keep those observations under my hat for now, Leyla thought cautiously. Maggie may be happy that John asked her to marry him, but I don’t think she’s happy enough that she won’t try to scare Chase off if she thinks we are growing too close.
***
ANOTHER HOUR PASSED at dinner, the excitement of Margaret and John’s engagement wearing down and everyone enjoying the delicious food that Abigail had prepared.
However, like all good things, it had to come to an end when Chase glanced at the clock in the parlor and realized that the show that night would be starting in an hour’s time.
“My deepest apologies for eating and running, Missus McNeal,” he said with a hasty bow to Abigail, “but I just realized that if I don’t get a move on back to the show, then Professor Monro will have me riding with the clowns for the rest of our travels this season.”
Abigail smiled sweetly at Chase. “Of course, Mister McAllister,” she replied, “and thank you for taking the time to visit us today. Please remember that you’re always welcome here at the McNeal Ranch.”
She paused, as though waiting for some opposed input from Maggie, but the elder McNeal daughter was still staring lovingly at John Baldwin, the two unable to take their eyes from one another.
“Leyla,” Abigail declared, catching her daughter’s attention. “Would you kindly see Mister McAllister to his horse? And give him one of the lanterns from the stable just in case he needs help seeing the signs directing him back to Cheyenne.”
“Yes, Mama,” Leyla answered, standing up from the table and approaching Chase.
Chase, ever the gentleman, offered his arm to the young redhead and she gratefully accepted it, the two of them strolling out into the hall and out the door.
***
“THANK YOU AGAIN, CHASE,” Leyla said quietly as they walked toward the stable. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you came by and taught me some of your skills.”
“The honor was all mine, Leyla,” Chase countered, giving her another of his charming smiles. “It’s not often I get to spend time with folks other than performers or get a meal like your mother whipped up. Certainly wouldn’t mind the chance to come back again.”
“Why don’t you?” Leyla asked simply.
Chase faltered in his steps and he turned to regard the woman on his arm. For a moment, he thought she might’ve been joking but the expression on her pale face told him that she was being sincere.
“Well, I...that is,” he began awkwardly, his free hand scratching the back of his neck beneath his long brown locks. “I suppose I might be able to stop by tomorrow around the same time and I could teach you a few more things. That is, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Leyla giggled at his sudden bashfulness. “I wouldn’t mind at all, Chase,” she said happily. “In fact, I insist on it. Please come by tomorrow around the same time.”
“It’d be a pleasure to, Leyla,” he replied, unable to turn down her offer.
As the two reached the stable, Chase found Cannonball and prepared his horse for the journey back toward the show. Leyla did as told and handed him a lit oil lantern, providing him with light for his ride.
Before Chase climbed into Cannonball’s saddle, he fixed Leyla with another smile.
“Until tomorrow?” he asked courteously.
“I’ll be expecting you,” Leyla answered and without any provocation, she stood up on her toes and touched his lips in a shy kiss. “Ride safely and best of luck in your performance tonight, Chase,” she said before turning on her heel and skittering back toward the house.
Chase stood there for a moment before he tentatively reached a hand up to his lips. He touched them, feeling the warmth upon them that the intimate contact with her had left. In a way, it made him feel something long forgotten spring to life once more.
Maybe I can finally put the past behind me, he prayed.
