No Place for a Lady (2 page)

I couldn't end this without acknowledging the gift of writing
that God has blessed me with. I'm amazed that You love me!

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to
give you hope and a future."

Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

June 1892

The Yampa Valley, Colorado

Crystal Clark gripped the side of the bouncing buckboard to keep
from tumbling onto the rocky roadbed below. From the first moment she'd left home she'd been wondering if she'd done the right
thing by coming to Colorado. Maybe she should have remained
in Georgia. At least there she knew what to expect. Out here the
only person she knew was her aunt. Crystal had once thought her
life was almost perfect, but in an instant, her father's death had
changed everything that she thought secure.

Rusty, her aunt's driver, had been waiting in Steamboat Springs
when she stepped off the stage. Now he pulled hard on the reins
and stopped the horses on a rise that overlooked the Yampa Valley. "Thought you might want to take a minute, enjoy the view
up here:"

Crystal gazed at the unfolding vista resplendent with flaming
Indian paintbrush and chickweed. Mountains loomed ahead.
"What a breathtaking sight;' she said, coughing as dust filled her throat and nostrils. Sweat ran in tiny rivulets down her
back beneath her fitted corset and slithered its way down her
clinging stockings into her snug-fitting heels. Despite these
momentary inconveniences, Crystal could only think about
her heartache.

"It's mighty pretty from up on this here rise." He grinned. "I
knew the minute Kate sent me to fetch you that you were gonna
like it here, ma'am"

Like it here? she thought.

Still, Crystal felt her lips turn up at the edges. Despite everything she'd been through, Rusty seemed to have the ability to
make her smile.

"Kate said you're coming here to stay," he added.

Crystal frowned. She didn't know what she would be doing
with her future, but in truth, she felt she had no alternative but
to stay.

"I don't know about staying ... That depends on a lot of things"
Crystal thought the old-timer a bit nosy for all his charm.

"So, missy, what'd ya think of the mountains? Ain't they somethin'?"

"They are so majestic, Rusty. God made beauty everywhere,
didn't He?"

"For a fact, ma'am. He did, He sure did." He scratched his
scruffy beard with his free hand. "It'll be mighty nice to have
a young person of the female persuasion around for a change.
Being with cowboys all the time can wear on a man after a while"
He chuckled.

"Right now, I'm afraid that I'm just tired and looking forward
to a good night's sleep"

"I hear you're from Georgia. Whend you start out?" Rusty
asked.

Crystal sighed. "Nearly two weeks ago." Thinking back on it
made her appreciate the settlers who had first come to this wild
land years ago. "At Kansas I boarded the Rio Grande, which took
me to Denver. From there I took the Colorado Central and Pacific
narrow gauge railroad to Central City. Believe me, I was leaning
as far back in my seat as possible when the engine hugged the
edge of the mountains to start down. From Central City, I had
to travel the rest of the way by stagecoach." Crystal closed her
eyes and thought back to how scared she had been when the
stagecoach crossed over the Continental Divide and then labored
over Rabbit Ears Pass. "I had trouble breathing up there and had
a headache as well:"

I know what you mean, missy."

Inspired by the vastness of the beautiful valley nestled below the
majestic snowcapped Rocky Mountains, Crystal soon forgot about
her aching and stiff muscles. "Aunt Kate's description of Colorado
was accurate. This is very different from what I'm used to"

"So tell me, what is it like in Georgia? I've never traveled farther
south than Denver;' Rusty said.

"Well, it's heaven on earth to me. But you might find it strange.
It's not wide open like it is here, and we have lots of beautiful trees.
Magnolias, dogwoods, oaks, and a variety of azaleas. Throw in
humidity and you'll get an idea of what it's like"

"What are azaleas?"

"They're bushes that bloom in early spring. Some are white,
some are pink. Underneath the dogwood trees, they make a very
pleasing picture:"

She felt hot tears spring behind her eyelids. Just talking about
home made her chest tight. The day she had to sign the deed
over to the bank, Crystal thought her heart would break. No
one, not even Drew, had stepped in to help straighten out her
finances.

Although Drew wanted to marry her, something in her heart
told Crystal that she did not feel as deeply for him as he did for
her. Maybe time apart from Drew would give her a chance to
know for sure what God had planned for her.

The old-timer interrupted her meditations as his strong, capable
hands flicked the reins and guided the horses into the valley floor.
"It sounds beautiful"

Crystal couldn't bear to keep talking about Georgia, and she
changed the subject. "It's been so long since I've seen Aunt Kate.
But I have so many fond memories of her visits to Georgia. When
she wrote, asking me to come for a visit, I wired her the same day
and packed my bags. But I wasn't sure what to expect."

"Well, good for you. We'll do our best to see you have a fine
visit. Not much longer now, missy. And it won't always be this
hot and dry, either. Reckon this is a shore sign of frost. Snow flies
in September, sometimes late August here in the valley. Soon the
pass will close."

Crystal glanced at the man's profile. Lines crinkled around his
mouth on his weather-beaten face. He smiled at her, removed
his hat, and mopped his brow with a handkerchief. His thick red
hair swirled around his head like a flame whipped by the wind.
Rusty replaced his hat and stuffed his handkerchief into his shirt
pocket.

Crystal smiled back weakly and sighed. "The closest thing to snow I've seen in Georgia was flurries before a January ice storm.
Tell me about the snow here. What's it like?"

"The winters here can be long and hard, especially on the livestock. I remember the blizzard of'87 that me and Kate weathered
together. Your uncle had died two years before, you know. We
had very little supplies to see us through. For ten days the world
stood still, and the snow was six feet deep in places. Drifts reached
to the roof of the house. That year most of the cattle either froze
or starved to death" He paused in his ruminating, and Crystal
watched his face soften as he looked into the distance.

"The cattle got lean because of the drought during the summer
... So weak and defenseless, they didn't have much of a chance.
The snow so deep that our cowhands couldn't reach em. We hadn't
counted on a summer drought with bitter snowfall on its heels.
Our thermometer broke when it got thirty below. Kate read later
on in the Steamboat Pilot that Montana recorded a minus fortysix degrees. Not sure what it was here:"

Crystal shuddered. "Why in heaven's name would a person
stay way out here, away from civilization, with a bunch of cows
during a snowstorm in the first place?"

Rusty chuckled. "Maybe you'll change your mind after you're
here a spell. This here is God's country."

"Sounds perfectly miserable to me" Crystal twirled her parasol,
fanning her hot cheeks with a white lacy handkerchief. As far as
she knew, the entire world was God's country, but she understood
what he meant. Crystal felt that way about Georgia. Oh well, it
will just be a visit until I can figure out what I need to do.

Late afternoon sun filtered through the ponderosa pine, lending a dappling effect to the surrounding junipers, sagebrush, and
violet alpine asters.

"There's Aspengold. Your aunt's ranch was named after those
shimmering trees in that grove to the rear of the house" Rusty
pointed to a rustic, sprawling ranch house.

Crystal followed the direction of his finger. The ranch was
nothing like she expected. Unlike her father's beautiful cotton
plantation home with its huge white columns framed by giant
oak trees, Aspengold was a low, almost flat log house with a porch
running its full length. Not far from the house were corrals, a barn,
and a smaller version of the main house, which Crystal guessed
must be the bunkhouse from her aunt's descriptive letters. The
trees of white bark laden with black boles were nestled near the
porch. The small, quaking leaves seeming to wave their greeting
in the afternoon sunlight.

"Carmen's spotted us:' Rusty flicked the reins on the horses'
rumps, and they snapped into a trot toward the ranch. In the distance, dogs started barking at the sound of the wagon rumbling
down the dirt road.

Crystal saw a woman in a full red skirt run back into the house,
then reappear with another woman whom she recognized as
her aunt Kate. Crystal felt her chest tighten again. How in the
world was she going to fit in with these folks and their simple
life? Maybe it wouldn't be for long-and maybe she'd think again
about Drew.

As Rusty brought the wagon to a standstill in front of the veranda, the dogs yapped, and several cowboys appeared and swept
off their hats in greeting. The tallest cowboy reached up to lift Crystal down, and she felt herself swing to the ground as though
she were nothing more than a child. The cowboy towered above
Crystal. She glimpsed confederate-blue eyes underneath dark
eyebrows and thin lips below a thick moustache. For the briefest
moment, their eyes held, and Crystal felt strange at the warmth
of his hands holding her waist. Releasing her, he bowed with a
ridiculous grin on his face.

Kate grabbed her niece and kissed her on the cheek. "Crystal,
it sure is good to see you. You're a sight for sore eyes, girl:" Kate
pulled back. "Let me get a good look at you. I declare! You've
grown up on me. The spittin' image of your ma"

Crystal felt her face turning pink. "It's so wonderful to see you
too. It's been too long, hasn't it?" Crystal smoothed the wrinkles
of her skirt. "After that long, dirty ride, I must look a mess:" She
pushed a few loose strands of dark, wavy hair back, knowing her
face was dirt-streaked.

She looked up into Kate's soft and full face, with hair grayer
than she remembered four years ago. Kate Morgan was in her late
forties, a strong, determined woman whose tall frame and husky
voice made her appear almost mannish. But Crystal knew that
there wasn't a bigger heart in all of Colorado than her aunt's.

Pulling Crystal forward by the elbow, Kate beamed with pride
and announced, "This is my niece, Crystal Clark, and I want all
of you to make her feel welcome:" Kate gestured toward the tall
cowboy who had helped Crystal down from the wagon. "Meet
Luke Weber-he's my foreman:"

"Ma'am:" Luke touched the brim of his hat for a split second.

Crystal noticed that he did not remove his hat. So ungentlemanly. She stood straight and prim. "I'm glad to make your acquaintance:' Crystal lowered her voice to a softer pitch, tilting
her head up to look at Luke. She felt a little uneasy under his
steady gaze but returned it with her own.

Standing well over six foot, Luke's tall, lean frame belied his
well-developed muscles suggesting years of working outdoors. A
red bandana was knotted around his neck, and a blue chambray
shirt reflected the color of his eyes. Dusty black boots, a little the
worse for wear, held spurs at the heel, making a slight jingling
noise each time he shifted his weight.

`And these here boys are Curly, Jube, and Kurt, the best ranch
hands in these parts;' Kate said.

Crystal turned to greet Curly, who was obviously named for
his head of tight golden curls. Curly wiped his hands on his large
bandana before he stepped toward her. He smiled. "Howdy"

Crystal smiled back. "Hello."

Jube kicked at a rock with the toe of his boot and, without
looking directly at her, muttered hello, blushing to the roots of
his scalp.