Bride of the Wild

By Carré White

Saffron Fossett is a capable, feisty young woman, who is courting one of the richest men in town, Silas Hefferman. Having been in mourning following her mother’s death, she eagerly anticipates a marriage proposal, although her pa isn’t all that fond of the fair-haired young man.

Looking for work, after having been a wagon master and trapper, Micah Blaylock and his Indian friend, Deer Runner, arrive in Fern Valley during an outbreak of rabid bear attacks. As the town struggles to protect itself from these vicious, diseased animals, Saffron and her family find themselves in peril.

After a hunting party is formed, Saffron is the only woman allowed to join, having proven herself a good shot. Accompanied by her beau, Silas, and Micah, a bond forms between the brunette beauty and the mysterious mountain man. The group soon finds itself in dire circumstances, which will test the mettle and faith of each person on the journey. The Rocky Mountains, although wild and beautiful, hold a danger far greater than rabid bears.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Love Lust Story
• Release date: Aug 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386624622

Carré White

  Carré White is the author of Sonoran Nights, a book that is set in the same small town in Arizona that she grew up in. After marrying, having children, and traveling, she settled in Colorado, enjoying nearly 350 days of sunshine. The Colorado Brides Series, which follow the lives of adventurous frontier women, who traveled west in the 1850's to find love is available now.

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Chapter 1

Kansas Territory, Sept 1855

How could I possibly concentrate on Sunday service? A close friend, Megan McAllister, and her brother had been attacked and murdered, which had stunned our community. But worse still was that the creature responsible remained at large, freely lurking in Fern Valley. We had only just begun to wear something other than black, due to my mother’s passing a year ago. While the pastor spoke, all I could think about was Megan’s gruesome death … and the fear that there might be more carnage, unless someone could stop the animal responsible .

Please take a moment to think on those poor souls who perished so cruelly, said Pastor Boyd. He stood before us, staring gravely from the pulpit. We’re so closely associated here in Fern Valley. Most of us came out in the summer of ‘51, as you will recall. When I look upon your faces, I see not only the members of my congregation, but my friends and family. I hold you all dear to my heart. I’ve baptized many of you as well, the youngsters anyhow. He grinned, the edges of his eyes creasing, but then his look sobered yet again. The recent spate of tragedies has been alarming. I ask we pray for the McAllister’s, especially Dudley and Megan, who have met their Lord far too young.

He lowered his head, and, while we prayed, thoughts drifted through my mind, vivid images of the past. I knew Megan rather well; the young woman had been a year older than me. We had gone to school together, we had played together often, and she had been a confidant over the years … but now she was lost to us forever.

I cannot fathom why God would take these brilliant, bright young souls. This tragedy is a reminder of just how precious life is. We should never take one another for granted, and we should all hold each other close …

Feeling eyes upon me, I glanced to the right, seeing my beau, Silas Hefferman. He sat with his parents and siblings in the first pew on the other side of the aisle. We had spoken of the incident yesterday, it being the most pressing topic of discussion at the moment. The burials had not occurred yet, and they wouldn’t until tomorrow.

… I know many of you have already given support, and, for that, I’m grateful. Pastor Boyd motioned towards the family, who sat several pews behind me. Mrs. McAllister held a kerchief to her face, dabbing at red-rimmed eyes, while her husband’s pale features highlighted the shadows beneath his. Megan’s siblings looked equally distressed.

That poor family, my sister, Amelia, whispered.

Yes, indeed. I sat next to her, with my younger brother, Tom, on the other side.

Such tragedy, Saffron. It boggles the mind.

Shush, murmured pa, casting a stern look our way.

I nodded, afraid to speak, but I could look, and I glanced behind me stealthily, finding them a sad and sorry sight. What sort of animal had attacked Dudley and Megan? What on earth would do that? Maybe it was Indians … they’re vexed with us for encroaching on their lands … and many are rather savage …

The preacher’s voice cut through my thoughts. ‘No man shall be able to stand before you all the days of your life. Just as I was with Moses, so I will be with you. I will not leave you or forsake you.’ Joshua 1:5-6. Pastor Boyd closed the Bible. Let these words be of comfort to you as you go about your journey today. Know you are not alone. Know that He shall watch over you—

A commotion in the doorway halted the sermon, startling the congregation; a murmur of voices, along with several female gasps filled the air. Amelia and I turned our heads towards the source of the intrusion, finding Sheriff Tate Palmer and Doctor Walker standing in the entranceway, along with an Indian by the name of Deer Runner. I knew of this man, who belonged to the Arapaho people and often acted as an interpreter. Not everyone felt at ease in the company of the natives, as we had all seen or heard of unpleasant events relating to them. Something in the sheriff’s expression sent a tremor down my spine. There had been more trouble.

I’m sorry for the interruption, Pastor Boyd, said Sheriff Palmer. Stepping into the nave, he removed his hat. Good morning, folks. He nodded to the townspeople, all of whom knew him on a first-name basis.

Is something amiss? asked the preacher. Is there a reason for this interruption?

The doctor stood behind the sheriff, his expression grim. The men moved up the aisle, although Deer Runner remained by the door, standing with his legs apart, his body encased in leather fringe, with a white and gray feather in his glossy, black hair.

One of my deputies came across the Goldman’s dog, Benny. The little fella looked like he’d been in some sort of accident, but after examining the animal, we discovered the blood in his fur didn’t belong to him.

I glanced at Amelia, her golden blonde hair peeking out from beneath her bonnet. She reached for my hand, her fingers cold. Although summer hadn’t left us yet, the mornings were chilly. This can’t be good, she murmured.

No. A hand landed on my shoulder, and I turned to see pa, whose face had hardened with worry. I scanned the church for the Goldmans, not seeing them today. They never missed a service with their four children.

What I’ve got to say might upset some folks, and, for that, I’m sorry. There’s no way to put this delicately. There’s been another ‘incident’. No one said a thing; the room suddenly went silent, the only sound came from a Lark Bunting, chirping happily in the tree outside.

Pastor Boyd’s lips thinned. Go on. You’ve come to tell us the news, and we’ll hear it. How can we be of assistance? What do you require of us?

The sheriff shook his head. Pray, he said starkly. All we can do now is pray.

The austere quality of those words settled uneasily in the pit of my belly. What happened to the family? I heard myself saying far too loudly.

Sheriff Palmer stared at me. Saffron Fossett. You may stand and ask that again, my dear.

Not having anticipated being called out in such a manner, I swallowed the embarrassment, scrambling to my feet. What of the family? Are they w-well?

Sadly, no. Deputy Thomas was sent to investigate. He came back with shocking news, but I had to see it for myself. I brought Doc Walker with me and Deer Runner. We came upon … he took a breath, a grizzly scene. The family had put up a fight. The doors had been barricaded. They used as much furniture as possible, but it hadn’t held. The creature managed to get in, and, although they’d gone into the larder, they were set upon.

The sheriff’s wife, Mrs. Palmer, rose. You mean to tell me the entire family’s gone?

We regret this news, said Doctor Walker. I’ve examined the bodies, what’s left of them, and yes, the only survivor was the dog. Doctor Walker’s wife approached him, and he drew her into his arms. There, there, Grace. Don’t make yourself uneasy.

Pastor Boyd returned to the pulpit, his eyes glistening with a suspicious sheen. Before we go today, we should pray for the Goldman family. If what Sheriff Palmer says is true, we’ve had yet another tragedy that cannot be explained. May God guide them all towards heaven. He bowed his head, as tears fell.

There had been far too many of these incidents lately, beginning with a poor mining family, who had gone missing. Their remains were discovered scattered in the forest. The occurrence had been classified as an animal attack, but no one could be sure which animal was responsible or if it had been a pack of wolves. Then there were the trappers, who had failed to return to their families, along with the McAllister children, who had been attacked on the road after dark. Their wagon had been set upon by something ferocious that had torn them to bits and eaten them.

The moment the service concluded, Sheriff Palmer approached the pulpit. Listen up, folks. This is as good a time as any to have a public meeting. Your safety is my priority, and I feel as if I’ve failed you. It’s time we discuss certain measures to protect ourselves from this scourge—

What was it? shouted a man towards the rear. What sort of animal?

We originally thought it might be a pack of wolves, but I have my doubts now.

The doctor joined him. The markings on the bones indicate it was of some size. He cleared his throat, because he had glanced at the look of horror on a woman’s face. There were prints left in the mud. Deer Runner believes the creature to be a bear. I’m inclined to agree with him.

Yes, said the sheriff. We second that assessment. They’re foraging now, getting themselves well-fed for winter, but … he seemed troubled, his brows furrowing, this predatory behavior is rather peculiar. I'm not all that acquainted with the habits of bears, but this particular one seems rather aggressive.

What sort of safety measures are you talking about? asked pa, who had gotten to his feet. How do you plan to keep us safe?

I suggest you board your windows. Find a place in your home you can hide, if you’re attacked. This animal has been breaking through doors. The Goldman’s door was shattered off its hinges. From the looks of it, they had been attacked in the night. The McAllisters had also been attacked at night. The miners went missing over night. I’d say, be careful outdoors at night. I wouldn’t go out at all, if you can avoid it.

You’re suggesting we barricade ourselves in our homes? asked a man in a top hat. I’ve a business to run.

Only at night. Go about your work during the day, just be mindful after sunset.

Let’s assemble a hunting party, said a voice I recognized. Silas Hefferman had gotten to his feet. Tall and lanky, he looked handsome in a frock coat and necktie. His pale, blond hair had been combed back. I’m all for hunting this beast down and killing him."

A chorus of voices rang out, agreeing with him, as men jumped to their feet, throwing closed fists in the air. I felt a twinge of jealously then, knowing women would be excluded from this. I wasn’t a bad shot in the least. Everyone in my family knew how to handle a weapon. I had killed deer and coyotes my entire life, having learned how to hunt quite young.

We can do this, men! hollered an older man in a brown coat.

Enough’s enough! We can’t have this another minute! shouted a woman. I refuse to live in fear. We’ve sacrificed far too many innocent people already. Haven’t the McAllisters suffered enough? How many more must die before we kill this abomination?

Sheriff Palmer cleared his throat. Something will be done then. I’ll organize a hunting party, but we have to bury the dead first. It’s important you listen to me about safety. Stay indoors at night, especially if you live near the woods. Barricade your windows and find something to secure your doors with …

He continued to talk, but pa indicated we should leave, and we shuffled past another family, who sat at the front of our pew. The room crackled with energy, as nearly every person in Fern Valley had gathered to listen to the pastor this morning. Now they had been called to action by the sheriff. I craned my neck, searching for Silas, but he seemed absorbed in the moment, his face alight with excitement, his blue eyes blazing with the thrill of adventure. Again, jealousy flared, because I would not be a part of the hunt, even though my friend, Megan, had perished, murdered by the mysterious creature that had plagued us for weeks. I wanted to avenge her death. I desired to search for her killer, but it would not be asked of me.

At the door, I came face-to-face with the Indian, Deer Runner, who looked quite fearsome at this proximity. Deep lines entrenched the corners of his mouth, while dark eyes flashed as they fell upon me. A cold shiver ran down my backbone. I disliked the natives, but I should not have felt this way towards Deer Runner, because we knew him. Some fears ran deeper than others, regrettably, and I could scarcely forget the events of our journey to the Kansas Territory. It had been nearly six years, but the memory of the attack on the wagon train seemed as if it had only happened a week ago.

My father, being jovial and sociable in most occasions, patted him on the shoulder. How are you, Deer Runner?

I’m well, and you? His voice was heavily accented.

We had moved outside, standing on the steps of the church, while a sudden gust of wind tossed my bonnet into the air. I had neglected to tie it around my throat, and, now, it tumbled down the steps, onto the dried out grasses and weeds that surrounded the building.

Oh, drat! I hurried after it, as the blue fabric caught in the prickly brambles of a bush. Before I could reach it, a hand came down and plucked it free. Startled, I stared at the man who had taken it upon himself to rescue my hat, finding inquisitive hazel eyes, surrounded by impossibly thick lashes. That’s mine, sir.

It is. He held out the item.

Never having seen this person before, I stared at him, wondering who he was. Th-thank you. His clothing looked well-worn, his boots dull and scuffed, while vestiges of a beard darkened his cheeks. Burnished brown strands of hair hung over his collar, and the belt around his waist dangled with a revolver on each hip.

Deer Runner seemed to know him, because he approached, grinning. This is Micah Blaylock. You’ll have to forgive him. He’s not been in society for a good while.

My father approached, with Amelia and Tom in tow, extending a hand. Eli Fossett. This is my oldest, Saffron, and my youngest, Tom. He nodded at my sister. And this is Amelia.

Staring at the proffered hand, Micah shook it, although he seemed nonplussed about it, shifting his feet awkwardly. Hello.

Having placed the bonnet on my head, I stared at Mr. Blaylock, finding him strangely fascinating, his rough appearance and behavior creating an air of mystery and danger. How long had he been in the mountains? What had he seen? Did he grow up alone? Where was he from?

We’ve a hearty Sunday brunch in the oven, courtesy of my lovely daughters. Perhaps, you and Deer Runner would like to join us?

We would be happy to, said the Indian, grinning.

Pa, ever sociable, approached me, smiling. Don’t look so put out, Saffron. You know the house is clean. We’re more than prepared for guests. He chuckled at my look of dismay, knowing my distrust of the natives. They might just not be the kind of guests you were expecting, is all.

Chapter 2

Prove me, O Lord, and try me; test my heart and my mind (Psalm 26.2)

This verse drifted through my thoughts, while pa commandeered the wagon, but we had not gone alone. Deer Runner and the stranger followed, trotting behind us on horseback. Irritated that I had not been able to say a word to Silas this morning, I cast scornful glances pa’s way, throwing daggers at him with my eyes .

Stop it, Saffron.

Stop what?

You know what. It’s prudent and kind of us to invite people to our home for food.

I wished to speak to Silas.

You’ll see him soon enough.

I will not. He’ll disappear on a wild goose chase, going after the illusive monster.

That has yet to be determined.

Tom, who sat in the back of the wagon, asked, Can I go, Pa? I want to hunt it down. Please?

Like I said, nothing’s been decided yet. It’s pure folly romping around in the mountains willy-nilly. They’ll have to formulate a plan first. A solid one.

I glanced at my father, noting a patch of gray hair above his ear. Will you go, if they ask?

I’ll consider all options, but I don’t reckon it’s time yet to gather a war party and search for this thing. They should think of baiting it here first. Make it come to us.

That’s scary, Pa, said Amelia. How would they do that? My sister had the bluest eyes in the family, the color of a morning sky.

It’s something to discuss. Going off into the mountains should be a last resort. He muttered, It’s dangerous out there.

I find it exciting. The fields on either side of the road bloomed; the weeds looked like miniature sunflowers. I wish I could be a part of the hunting party.

You’re a good shot, Saffron, said pa. That much is true. They’d do well to have you, but I doubt they’d be too keen on a woman tagging along.

I sighed, knowing this to be true. I still wish.

I don’t want to go anywhere near that animal. Amelia clutched her shawl. What if it tries to kill us? What will we do, Pa?

We need to secure the windows later. I’ll make another plank for the door, like a second lock of sorts. It’s all I can think of at the moment.

And keep the weapons at the ready, said Tom. I’m sleeping with my rifle.

The wagon trundled along, the wheels finding rocks and ruts. Our mare, Bonnie’s tail swooshed from side-to-side, while Deer Runner and his friend, Micah Blaylock, followed. I cast a glance over my shoulder, staring at him, but it seemed he had already been looking my way. Embarrassed, I turned forward, determined not to look back again.

Not far from town, our farm of nearly two hundred acres stood in the middle of Fern Valley, with grazing land for the animals and crops such as barley, wheat, and alfalfa. Tack barns and stalls for the draft horses spotted the landscape, along with a milk house, smokehouse, and a blacksmith’s forge. Our ranch hands, Wilber Ross and Sky Verlander slept in a small bunkhouse near the barn, but they had gone to town today, having Sunday free to do as they pleased. Living beneath the alpine tundra, we were able to keep an abundant kitchen garden, which Amelia and I tended, but, with winter approaching, we would have to preserve the excess vegetables in jars and store them in the larder soon enough.

The house had been my mother’s pride and joy and a labor of love, because she had waited nearly a year for all the building supplies to arrive, including the furnishings. The shingle style home featured a wide porch that ran around a two-story turret. My mother had come from money, inheriting a fortune from her grandmother, but, as rumor had it, the family disapproved of pa, not wanting her to marry him. Her stubborn streak won out, and she ran away with pa, essentially turning her back on her family and their wealth and connections. I had therefore never met my grandparents or aunts and uncles, wondering about people who were in my bloodline, but were complete strangers.

Our maid, Lucy, met us at the door, smiling and waving. We have guests, I see.

Tom jumped from the wagon, hurrying to help Amelia down. Thank you, she murmured. Yes, pa went and invited some folks for breakfast.

I thought the Heffermans might join you.

That was my thought too. No, unfortunately. My brother helped me alight. Thank you. Tom dashed into the house without another word, while pa freed the mare, leading her to the barn. Deer Runner and Micah Blaylock went with him. I glanced at Amelia. I’m quite annoyed about that. I wanted to talk to Silas.

I’m sure you’ll see him soon enough.

At the funeral tomorrow. I scowled. That’s hardly conducive to conversation.

I’m not happy about it either. There will be several funerals now with the death of the Goldmans.

Lucy overheard that. What did you say, Amelia? Has there been more news? I knew I should’ve gone to church. She limped then, reaching for the door. Having injured herself in a tumble down the stairs a few days ago, she lacked mobility. This stupid leg.

I hope you haven’t been standing on it all morning, said Amelia. You need to go sit. Right this minute.

My sister and I had taken over the added chores, helping our maid as much as possible. Does it hurt still?

I was sitting. I’m fine. She hobbled into the parlor, grimacing with each step. "You girls shouldn’t fuss over me. I should fuss