| Western Fiction posted November 16, 2016 | Chapters: |
...10 11 -12- 13... 
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Unexpected help
A chapter in the book Tin Cup
Off The Reservation
by Delahay
Synopsis: Jess Harper, a Civil War vet, is traveling through the west trying to make a life for himself after the war. Earlier in his travels, Jess was robbed by his three companions. He later found them, killed two of them, retrieved his possessions then let the third one, Charlie, leave. Charlie later caught up with Jess, shot him in the back, then aimed a gun at him as he was lying on the ground. He was saved by a settler, Hermann (Abe) Klein and his daughter Helga. While recovering with the Kleins, Jess falls for and marries Helga. Now that Helga is expecting, Abe and Jess want to find someone to help Helga with the baby. The person they find does not work out well so Helga states she will find someone on her own. She disappears one morning and is gone all day before Jess and Abe spot Helga approaching in the wagon.
Previously: I looked where he was pointing and my gaze met a strange looking party. Helga was holding the reins but I wasn't sure exactly who or what was seated next to her. The figure was wrapped in a blanket and dressed in buckskins. There was a tomahawk stuck through a leather belt and a rifle was held between their knees. A tall, domed hat flopped on top of a head that was barely visible under the wide brim. There was something that looked like a cradle in the back of the wagon and a burro was tied to the back, looking comical as its little legs trotted fast to keep up. As they came a little closer I could make out a chicken riding on the back of the burro.
"Abe," I asked, "what has she gotten us into?
Now: As I watched the wagon and its assorted characters approach, different feelings were fighting their way through my mind. Relief that Helga was back, apparently unharmed, was kept company by something almost like rage that she had placed herself in harm's way by taking off like she had. A small amount of humor at the ridiculous sight the menagerie made flickered through me as well but was overwhelmed.
I stood transfixed by my warring thoughts as the wagon rolled to a halt. Before I could form a coherent thought, or make any sound beyond "um", Abe stepped forward to help Helga and her passenger down from their perch. When Helga was safely back on her feet, I finally managed to get my own unstuck from the ground and rushed forward to wrap my arms around her. I held her tight for a moment before all my fear and anger came crashing back through me. I pushed her back and held her at arm's length as the words began tumbling out of my mouth without stopping by my brain for instructions.
"What in God's name did you think you were doing? Where have you been? Do you have any idea how worried we have been? You could have been killed! There are dangerous wild animals out there! There are dangerous people out there! Are you crazy? What were you thinking?"
I may have said a few more things, all in a very loud voice, but I couldn't really keep up with all of it. Through it all, I somehow failed to notice that Helga was looking less than pleased with me. As my tirade finally wound down I realized that she was standing with her arms crossed, her foot tapping, with an offended look on her face. After a moment she snapped,
" I know what I'm doing. Help me unload the wagon."
Then she stomped off .
She walked to the creature in the buckskins and floppy hat. As I approached I realized that it was an old Indian woman with long white braids with skin as dark and wrinkled as a walnut.
I could see Abe was no less upset than I was, but I guess he had more experience dealing with Helga than I did. He was standing stock still, clenching his jaw until I thought his teeth would break. Then he seemed to shake himself and walked to the wagon to help unload.
The Indian turned out to be the widow of a much-respected medicine man of a local tribe of Utes in the area. She called herself something that sounded like "Oota" and had learned some English from a missionary who had lived with her people for a while. She also had a very bossy manner. After raking an unimpressed glance over me she pointed at the wagon and said "cradle" then walked into the cabin carrying a bundle wrapped in skins.
I carried the cradle into the cabin to find Oota waving burning sage around as she walked along the walls and across the floor. She even made a few passes around me with the smoldering herbs. Abe got the same treatment when he walked in. As she walked, I could hear her chanting in a language I did not understand. I could only assume that she was trying to rid the cabin of evil spirits. At least I hoped that was what she was doing.
Helga bustled in, barking orders like a Drill Sergeant.
"Don't just stand there! The wagon won't unload itself. This place is a mess, we have to get it cleaned up! Do I have to do everything myself?"
I had heard that pregnant women can get a little grumpy and unpredictable. I didn't have much experience with the phenomena myself, but I found myself wondering. Just what on Earth had happened to my sweet, loving wife. Was I going to survive this?
Synopsis: Jess Harper, a Civil War vet, is traveling through the west trying to make a life for himself after the war. Earlier in his travels, Jess was robbed by his three companions. He later found them, killed two of them, retrieved his possessions then let the third one, Charlie, leave. Charlie later caught up with Jess, shot him in the back, then aimed a gun at him as he was lying on the ground. He was saved by a settler, Hermann (Abe) Klein and his daughter Helga. While recovering with the Kleins, Jess falls for and marries Helga. Now that Helga is expecting, Abe and Jess want to find someone to help Helga with the baby. The person they find does not work out well so Helga states she will find someone on her own. She disappears one morning and is gone all day before Jess and Abe spot Helga approaching in the wagon.
Previously: I looked where he was pointing and my gaze met a strange looking party. Helga was holding the reins but I wasn't sure exactly who or what was seated next to her. The figure was wrapped in a blanket and dressed in buckskins. There was a tomahawk stuck through a leather belt and a rifle was held between their knees. A tall, domed hat flopped on top of a head that was barely visible under the wide brim. There was something that looked like a cradle in the back of the wagon and a burro was tied to the back, looking comical as its little legs trotted fast to keep up. As they came a little closer I could make out a chicken riding on the back of the burro.
"Abe," I asked, "what has she gotten us into?
Now: As I watched the wagon and its assorted characters approach, different feelings were fighting their way through my mind. Relief that Helga was back, apparently unharmed, was kept company by something almost like rage that she had placed herself in harm's way by taking off like she had. A small amount of humor at the ridiculous sight the menagerie made flickered through me as well but was overwhelmed.
I stood transfixed by my warring thoughts as the wagon rolled to a halt. Before I could form a coherent thought, or make any sound beyond "um", Abe stepped forward to help Helga and her passenger down from their perch. When Helga was safely back on her feet, I finally managed to get my own unstuck from the ground and rushed forward to wrap my arms around her. I held her tight for a moment before all my fear and anger came crashing back through me. I pushed her back and held her at arm's length as the words began tumbling out of my mouth without stopping by my brain for instructions.
"What in God's name did you think you were doing? Where have you been? Do you have any idea how worried we have been? You could have been killed! There are dangerous wild animals out there! There are dangerous people out there! Are you crazy? What were you thinking?"
I may have said a few more things, all in a very loud voice, but I couldn't really keep up with all of it. Through it all, I somehow failed to notice that Helga was looking less than pleased with me. As my tirade finally wound down I realized that she was standing with her arms crossed, her foot tapping, with an offended look on her face. After a moment she snapped,
" I know what I'm doing. Help me unload the wagon."
Then she stomped off .
She walked to the creature in the buckskins and floppy hat. As I approached I realized that it was an old Indian woman with long white braids with skin as dark and wrinkled as a walnut.
I could see Abe was no less upset than I was, but I guess he had more experience dealing with Helga than I did. He was standing stock still, clenching his jaw until I thought his teeth would break. Then he seemed to shake himself and walked to the wagon to help unload.
The Indian turned out to be the widow of a much-respected medicine man of a local tribe of Utes in the area. She called herself something that sounded like "Oota" and had learned some English from a missionary who had lived with her people for a while. She also had a very bossy manner. After raking an unimpressed glance over me she pointed at the wagon and said "cradle" then walked into the cabin carrying a bundle wrapped in skins.
I carried the cradle into the cabin to find Oota waving burning sage around as she walked along the walls and across the floor. She even made a few passes around me with the smoldering herbs. Abe got the same treatment when he walked in. As she walked, I could hear her chanting in a language I did not understand. I could only assume that she was trying to rid the cabin of evil spirits. At least I hoped that was what she was doing.
Helga bustled in, barking orders like a Drill Sergeant.
"Don't just stand there! The wagon won't unload itself. This place is a mess, we have to get it cleaned up! Do I have to do everything myself?"
I had heard that pregnant women can get a little grumpy and unpredictable. I didn't have much experience with the phenomena myself, but I found myself wondering. Just what on Earth had happened to my sweet, loving wife. Was I going to survive this?
Previously: I looked where he was pointing and my gaze met a strange looking party. Helga was holding the reins but I wasn't sure exactly who or what was seated next to her. The figure was wrapped in a blanket and dressed in buckskins. There was a tomahawk stuck through a leather belt and a rifle was held between their knees. A tall, domed hat flopped on top of a head that was barely visible under the wide brim. There was something that looked like a cradle in the back of the wagon and a burro was tied to the back, looking comical as its little legs trotted fast to keep up. As they came a little closer I could make out a chicken riding on the back of the burro.
"Abe," I asked, "what has she gotten us into?
Now: As I watched the wagon and its assorted characters approach, different feelings were fighting their way through my mind. Relief that Helga was back, apparently unharmed, was kept company by something almost like rage that she had placed herself in harm's way by taking off like she had. A small amount of humor at the ridiculous sight the menagerie made flickered through me as well but was overwhelmed.
I stood transfixed by my warring thoughts as the wagon rolled to a halt. Before I could form a coherent thought, or make any sound beyond "um", Abe stepped forward to help Helga and her passenger down from their perch. When Helga was safely back on her feet, I finally managed to get my own unstuck from the ground and rushed forward to wrap my arms around her. I held her tight for a moment before all my fear and anger came crashing back through me. I pushed her back and held her at arm's length as the words began tumbling out of my mouth without stopping by my brain for instructions.
"What in God's name did you think you were doing? Where have you been? Do you have any idea how worried we have been? You could have been killed! There are dangerous wild animals out there! There are dangerous people out there! Are you crazy? What were you thinking?"
I may have said a few more things, all in a very loud voice, but I couldn't really keep up with all of it. Through it all, I somehow failed to notice that Helga was looking less than pleased with me. As my tirade finally wound down I realized that she was standing with her arms crossed, her foot tapping, with an offended look on her face. After a moment she snapped,
" I know what I'm doing. Help me unload the wagon."
Then she stomped off .
She walked to the creature in the buckskins and floppy hat. As I approached I realized that it was an old Indian woman with long white braids with skin as dark and wrinkled as a walnut.
I could see Abe was no less upset than I was, but I guess he had more experience dealing with Helga than I did. He was standing stock still, clenching his jaw until I thought his teeth would break. Then he seemed to shake himself and walked to the wagon to help unload.
The Indian turned out to be the widow of a much-respected medicine man of a local tribe of Utes in the area. She called herself something that sounded like "Oota" and had learned some English from a missionary who had lived with her people for a while. She also had a very bossy manner. After raking an unimpressed glance over me she pointed at the wagon and said "cradle" then walked into the cabin carrying a bundle wrapped in skins.
I carried the cradle into the cabin to find Oota waving burning sage around as she walked along the walls and across the floor. She even made a few passes around me with the smoldering herbs. Abe got the same treatment when he walked in. As she walked, I could hear her chanting in a language I did not understand. I could only assume that she was trying to rid the cabin of evil spirits. At least I hoped that was what she was doing.
Helga bustled in, barking orders like a Drill Sergeant.
"Don't just stand there! The wagon won't unload itself. This place is a mess, we have to get it cleaned up! Do I have to do everything myself?"
I had heard that pregnant women can get a little grumpy and unpredictable. I didn't have much experience with the phenomena myself, but I found myself wondering. Just what on Earth had happened to my sweet, loving wife. Was I going to survive this?
The Utes are a tribe of Native Americans from an area made up of parts of Utah and Colorado.
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