Background
Luke finds a half Indian girl wandering near his mountain cabin, takes her in and discovers she's the daughter of a mother who was kidnapped on the Oregon Trail. Days latter he must fetch a mail bride
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At the break of dawn, Luke and his companions followed the rutted trail toward the town of Silver Creek. He looked over at his bride-to-be and her daughter Anna, as they rocked back and forth on the trail, looking pale as sheets. "It's a mite like being seasick on dry land."
Ruth forced a smile but looked away. He thought she might puke, but she managed to hold it. She'd done her best impression so far not to appear brittle or frail for a homesteader's life or a fugitive wife. Little Anna rocked back and forth between them with a boiling sun on their backs.
Sinister clouds gathered over the mountains in the west when Luke first spotted the speck of his town on the horizon. At first the winds were a welcome relief with a drop in temperature. But as Luke marshalled the wagon across the foothills, windswept dirt and grass stung his face. Ruth did her best to shield Anna with her body. The Horses drawing the wagon pouted, but he kept them headlong into the bowels of a menacing storm.
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Ruth raised her voice over the wind, "Are we going to make it there?"
Luke nodded her way. He knew they'd be stuck in town before he could get them safely to his cabin. "There's no place here to dig in. I need to get you two a room in town for the night!"
The rain formed like a dark curtain and then fell like pellets. Luke rode the horses hard as the wagon wheels sloshed through the muddy path. The faint light of oil lamps illumined the edge of town where Luke wrestled with the reins until he found the stable. A friend of his with a loping stride took the horse drawn carriage under the cover of the barn.
Ruth passed her daughter to Luke's waiting arms. Then she slipped from the wagon and stumbled into a pile of hay. He guided them over to the walkway where they could dodge the rain. After Luke helped the man secure the horses and wagon, he pulled his hat down and ran toward the shivering pair where a lamp illumined the only hotel above the saloon.
Soiled and soaked, Luke guided Ruth and Anna through the saloon doors and hurried them up the clacking stairs. Luke met the madam who ran the establishment. His stomach churned, having to dig into his pocket for coins for a room he hadn't expected to need where painted ladies passed through the hall. Ruth and Anna watched with stunned silence as one of the ladies took a drunken old miner by the hand and opened the door of a room beside them.
The Madam opened the door to Luke's room. "Don't worry yourself none, Luke, if you haven't tied the knot yet. I may have heard about your mail order bride, but I don't tell the town my business."
Luke's heart tightened under his soaked clothes. Luke pulled off his hat and let the water drip to his boots. "Appreciate it."
Ruth and Anna hurried inside. Luke followed and shut the door, muffling the loud noise of music and dancing below.
The dim lit room was spacious enough with a dresser and one large bed. Ruth found a towel and attempted to help undress and dry her daughter. Luke stood there with a blank stare, as if not sure what to say. Anna plopped on the bed while the mother pulled off her shoes. She turned to Luke. "I can make a pallet where you can sleep," said Ruth.
Luke turned toward the door. "It'll be all right. I...I can sleep on the hay in one of the stables. Then I will come fetch you two for the hike up the mountain."
Anna meekly turned her head. "Will you keep us safe?"
Luke smiled. "Yes, little darling. I'm going to take you and your mother to my hideaway come morning."
Ruth stood, pressing her hands against her cold wet dress. "Thanks for not leaving us when you had the chance."
"Get some rest. Don't fret yourself. No one, not even a Pinkerton would have followed us in this storm."
Luke closed the door behind him, trotted down the hall, and dashed down the stairs, dodging folks to get outside. The rain softened. As he walked past the jail house on his way toward the barn, his eye caught a wanted poster. It looked like the spitting image of Ruth Thompson.
Luke stiffened, then plucked the poster from the cork board as light rain dripped from the eves above. He stuffed the poster in his coat pocket, fingered his revolver to be sure it was handy. He looked both ways where darkness engulfed the street and headed back into the saloon.
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There was a rap on the door. Ruth and Anna clutched each other in fear. "Who is it?" Ruth asked.
"I know you're in there, Missy, and I aim to get what I paid fer."
Then there was a scuffle at the door. Shadows turned beneath it. A soft knock. "Ruth, its me, Luke. Let me in."
Ruth rushed over and opened the door. She hugged him until a damp heat took hold.
"Throw me an extra blanket. Change of plans." Luke pulled out the poster that had her likeness on it and handed it to her. She stood by the window where there was some light and looked at the drawing of herself on the wet paper. She brought him a blanket and an extra pillow. Luke pulled out his revolver and curled up in front of the door.
As Luke drifted to sleep, his mind raced up the mountain toward the Indian, Aiyana. He wondered if she would be there. He did not know how to love someone, but it was looking like he'd be taken to task over her words about how no one should have a telegraph line to tell you who to love.
