I'm so sorry for the late update. I just got back to school so I'm super busy. And I also have dance classes plus I'm working on 4 stories at the same time. Yikes. But I'd still like to thank everyone who has been reading this story and even those going out of their mind for an update. I honestly didn't think this story would be so popular since it's pretty much movie-adjacent, but you guys have made that happen. So, thank you and on with the story. This chapter should sate your appetites.
I couldn't believe this. I wanted the taste of freedom so badly, and Spirit and I were captured again within two seconds. I rode on Spirit's back with James and Little Creek on Rain, the paint mare, until night fell. When that time did come, we came over a hill and saw a ranch that was notably smaller than my home. "There it is," James said. "The Ever Free Ranch. My home."
"You really shouldn't really call it Ever Free if you capture people," I fired back.
"You're not captured," Little Creek said. "Instead your being taken in."
"Well, I have a home, too, you know." I said again.
"We know that, Maria," said James. "But we've both been through a grueling ordeal. You need to get back on your feet, and until you do that, you can stay here with us." I had to admit, he had a point. We made it down the hill when a man and a woman burst out of the main house.
"Oh, James!" the woman cried. "Little Creek! Oh, we've been worried sick!"
"Where have you been?!" the man exclaimed.
"We were captured by the Army, Ma," James said.
"Confederate?" the man asked.
"No," Little Creek answered. "Union."
"Union?" the woman repeated. "I didn't know they took hostages."
"Apparently Fort Whipple does," said James.
"You mean to tell me you were 20 miles away from us?" said the man.
"Yes, Mr. Thomas," said Little Creek. Mr. Thomas? So these were James's parents. I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to leave, but Spirit sneezed right as I was about to climb back into the saddle. The couple's attention snapped towards me, and the woman's eyes lit up.
"Oh, James, you've brought home a girl! And she's a lovely little thing, too!"
"No!" James and I said together.
"I'm afraid you have the wrong idea, ma'am," I said. "James and I just met a few days ago."
"Well, then why are you here?" Mr. Thomas questioned.
"My horse, Spirit, and I were also captured by the Union Army. James and I escaped a few days later, but then he called Little Creek and Rain. So now we're here."
"Well, I think we should introduce ourselves," the man said. "I'm Charles Thomas and this is my wife, Anne."
"Pleased to meet you," I replied. "I'm Maria Wilder." Spirit nuzzled me. "And this is my horse, Spirit."
"It's wonderful to meet you, dear," said Anne. "But may I ask where you're from?"
"The Cimarron Valley." I explained. I earned a gasp from the other four.
"You're all the way from the Montana Territory?!" James exclaimed.
"You never told us that." said Little Creek.
"Uh, you didn't ask." I smartly said, causing Little Creek to stop talking.
"Goodness, dear!" Anne said. "To have traveled such a long way, you must be exhausted!"
"Well, ma'am, we are," I admitted. "Spirit, James, and I were tied to a post, with Spirit and I tied three days..." I started to plunge into the story of how Spirit and I were pursued by the cowboys, captured, mistreated, and finally how we escaped. When I finished, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas looked utterly shocked.
"Oh my goodness," Anne whispered. "Perhaps you should stay with us for a time, Maria. There's plenty of room for you."
"You're very kind, but I can't," I said. "I have to find and get back to family. I'm sure they're extremely worried."
"Maria," James said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You've gone three days without food or water and hardly any rest. And, no offense, but you look like you got swept up in a twister. If you leave now, you won't make it back to Montana"
"James is right," Charles said. "Although rude, he's right. Both you and Spirit could use a nice long rest." Spirit whinnied his agreement. That seemed to seal the deal for me.
"Well, alright, but we can't stay long."
"Then it's settled," Anne clapped her hands together. "I'll fix you some soup and a hot drink and prepare you a wardrobe and a bed. I'm certain you could fit in some of my dresses." I silently agreed. We had nearly the same body. Over 5'5", a flat stomach, a large chest, and slender curves and arms, I was sure I could fit.
"James," Charles said after Anne and Little Creek had departed to the house."You and I will help Maria take care of Spirit. And see to Rain as well."
"Yes, Pa," James agreed. Since their stables were full with other horses, Spirit was put in Rain's private corral. Charles and James both tried to take Spirit's bridle off, but he wouldn't let them. I told them Spirit was a one person horse, and after Charles muttered something about "seeing to that", I took Spirit's bridle off along with the rest of the gear. James did the same to Rain. "Nice and easy." he said as he unsaddled Rain. I finally got Spirit's gear all off and set it on the ground.
"That feels better now, doesn't it, boy?" I told my Kiger. Then, James and I left the corral and closed the gate. We made our way back to the house. I greedily ate half of the huge pot of the potato soup Anne had made, and then ate four pieces of bread with herb butter, and drank three glasses of mint tea. She gave me a nightgown to wear and sent me to my new room, it was smaller than my room at home, but it was spacious enough. I climbed into the bed and quickly fell asleep, thanking God for keeping Spirit and I safe, and asking Him to bless the hearts of the kind family that had helped us. And I don't know why, but my dreams that night wandered to James.
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I awoke on the soft grass of the corral. At around 2:00 a.m., I woke up and couldn't sleep again, so I went outside and lay down next to Spirit. When I awoke again, it was sunrise, so I went back to the house, where I pulled my hair in a braid and slipped on a light green calico dress, which had a stunning pearl brooch at the collar. After a breakfast of bacon and eggs, I went outside to feed Spirit, to which James had already beaten me. There was a pyramid of apples Spirit was munching on. I jumped the fence and went to pet him. Spirit then lifted his head up and saw Rain eating grass. He whinnied softly to her. She looked up, then Spirit began to prance around playfully, trying to get the Paint to come over. I looked back and forth between Spirit and Rain. This was not like my horse. I heard a whistle. James was standing on the hill, the early morning sun making his brown curls shine. Rain looked back and forth between Spirit and James, before prancing to her owner. Spirit looked shocked and a little hurt. "Ah, rejection," I said, slinging an arm around my horse's neck. "It happens to us all, boy."
As James pet Rain, she bit as his hair, causing him to run away from her. James began to play with his horse as if she were a dog. Spirit and I looked on in confusion. James then lay on the ground, playing dead. Rain walked over and the boy blew in her face, resulting in a hug.
(Maria) I couldn't understand it. She treated this boy like one of her kind, prancing around him like a lovestruck yearling. It was downright unnatural.
Spirit and I were playful, sure. But never like that. Later that day, Charles came into the corral with a saddle blanket. "Great mustang," he said. "Today, I will ride you." Spirit looked as if he rolled his eyes, as I did, too. I was sitting with James and Little Creek, the boys flanking me on opposite sides. "This oughta be good," I whispered to myself. Charles tried to put the blanket on Spirit, but whenever he tried, Spirit would run off in a different direction. I giggled. Spirit then chased Charles to where he had to jump over the fence of the corral. My horse neighed loudly at Charles, causing me to snap his name. The man looked frightened, until Rain stepped in front of him and neighed just as loudly back at Spirit. He backed away from her, and went to me, where I petted him.
(Spirit) Mares.
I knew right then and there Charles wasn't gonna give up. I had two ideas on what he was: either incredibly persistent or incredibly out of his mind.