The Hard Land-Part 13
A story of love and survival
“Which should I wear to Harry Nash’s party?” Thomas held his suit in one hand and flannel shirt and denim trousers in the other.
“You can never dress too formally,” Anna said pointing to the Sunday clothes.
Frank hesitated. “I’d wear the shirt and trousers. There’ll be games and other activities.”
“I think you’re right, Frank. I’d hate to ruin my suit.” He returned to the bedroom and dressed.
When Thomas stepped back into the kitchen, Frank and Anna had Charlotte and Henry ready to go.
Thomas picked up the clothing bundle and tucked it under his arm and followed Frank and his family to the barn.
“We’ll see you at Nash’s,” Frank said as he helped his family into the wagon.
Thomas waved, then finished tightening the saddle cinch and tucked the clothing bundle into the saddlebags. Mounting his horse, he rode past the Earl’s cabin.
The buggy was sitting in the yard, Earl leaning against a wheel.
Thomas reined in his horse. “Aren’t you and Elizabeth coming to the party?”
Earl pushed away from the wheel and adjusted his Stetson. “Yep, Elizabeth is still getting ready.”
“See you there.” Thomas touched the horse’s flanks lightly and rode off.
The party was already underway when Thomas rode into the Nash’s yard. He dismounted and tied his horse to the hitching rail beside several other saddled horses. Wagons and buggies were parked around the barnyard, the horses swatting at flies with their tails.
As Thomas entered the front yard, Harry motioned him over. Several men were discussing the harvest and Thomas half listened as his eyes searched the yard for Amanda.
When the conversation shifted to comparing yields, Thomas stepped away from the group and passed a fiddler sitting on a barrel bowing his instrument. Beside the fiddler, a woman wearing a white blouse and a three-tiered red skirt moved her feet in time to the music. A man stood behind the fiddle player chanting softly “do-si-do”, “allemande left”, and “circle right.”
The woman smiled at Thomas. “We’ll be forming up squares soon.”
Thomas returned her smile. “Thanks, but I don’t dance much.”
He continued across the yard and spotted Amanda standing by the corner of the house. He started toward her and opened his mouth to call her name, stopping suddenly when he saw Karl Miller standing close, one arm pinning Amanda in place.
Thomas stomach lurched. He turned on his heel, and retreated, hoping she had not seen him.
Berating himself for thinking he would spend time with Amanda, he slipped into the back yard. He dropped the bundle of clothes on the back porch and stomped toward a group of men gathered in two circles near the water pump.
Pushing his way into the crowd, he saw two men seated on the ground facing each other, the soles of their boots pressed together. They held a shovel handle perpendicular across their legs. At a signal, the men pulled until one man’s backside lifted from the ground. The man still seated was declared the winner.
Thomas needed to blow off steam, and this contest looked like something he could do.
Thomas tapped one of the onlookers on the shoulder. “What’s this contest called?”
“Pulling sticks,” the man said.
Thomas took a place at the back of the line to take his turn in one of the circles and watched.
After several rounds of the game passed, Thomas reached the front of the line. A man motioned to Thomas. “You’re up.”
Thomas strode forward and took his place on the ground facing the winner of the previous contest, their feet together. At the signal, Thomas pulled. His opponent rose slightly, and Thomas was declared the winner.
He successfully worked his way through the challengers in his circle and when someone did the same in the other circle, the crowd stepped back creating one large circle.
Thomas craned his neck, trying to get a look at his foe. He gulped when Karl Miller emerged from the crowd, glaring at Thomas.
“Shake hands,” the referee said.
Thomas grudgingly extended his hand.
Karl continued to glare but extended his hand.
The handshake was brief and both men took their position on the ground.
The referee placed the shovel handle between them, and they jockeyed for position on the stick.
Karl pushed his boots hard against the soles of Thomas’s feet.
Thomas pushed back, returning Karl’s angry stare.
At the signal, both men began to pull. At first, neither moved. The cheering of the crowd grew louder as it divided into two factions, one in favor of Thomas and the other shouting for Karl.
Somewhere above the cacophony, Thomas recognized Amanda’s voice.
“You can do it, Thomas.”
Resisting the urge to turn toward the voice, he lowered his head and arched his back. He had worked too hard to get to the championship round to lose his concentration now. With a final explosion of strength, Thomas gritted his teeth and pulled.
Karl slowly rose from the ground.
Thomas continued to pull, and Karl fell forward into Thomas’s lap.
Karl released the handle and put both hands against Thomas’s chest and pushed away, a scowl on his beet red face.
Thomas stood and dusted the dirt from the seat of his trousers. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry Nash stepping forward to present the ribbons for the game. At the same time, he saw Amanda rushing forward.
Amanda reached Thomas first and threw her arms around him.
Harry cleared his throat.
Amanda released Thomas and stepped back.
Harry chuckled. “Well, I guess you already have a reward for winning the contest, but I’ll still present you with this ribbon as proof that you are the champion.” Harry handed the ribbon to Thomas and slapped him on the back a little harder than necessary. He gripped Thomas’s right hand and lifted it into the air. With his other hand, Harry gripped his daughter’s arm.
Cheers and catcalls came from the crowd, and Thomas’s face went red.
As the crowd noise faded, the rustic sounds of the fiddle drifted across the yard.
“Come on, let’s dance.” Amanda grabbed Thomas’s hand and pulled him toward the music.
“I’m not much of a dancer,” Thomas said, allowing Amanda to drag him toward the forming squares.
“You can do it. Just follow the caller and the other dancers.”
Three squares formed in front of the fiddler. One consisted of Frank and Anna along with other farmers and their wives. Thomas and Amanda joined a group of people nearer their age.
Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas saw Earl and Elizabeth sitting on chairs watching.
After two sets, Frank and Anna left their circle and found Charlotte and Henry. Frank caught Thomas’s eye and signaled they were heading home.
Thomas nodded.
“Can we sit for a bit?” Thomas asked after the next dance.
Amanda nodded.
Hand in hand they walked to where Earl and Elizabeth were sitting.
“You two make a dashing couple,” Elizabeth said.
Thomas blushed. “Thank you.”
Amanda slipped into a chair next to Elizabeth. “How are you feeling?”
Elizabeth smiled. “Much better, but I’m not ready to dance.”
“I understand,” Amanda said.
Thomas sat in the chair next to Amanda, and the conversation lagged into uncomfortable silence.
“Do you want to dance again?” Thomas asked.
“Can we just sit for a bit longer?”
Thomas sat back in his chair and watched the dancers.
Amanda shifted in her chair and leaned closer to Elizabeth. “Elizabeth, can I ask you something?”
“Certainly?” Elizabeth turned to face Amanda.
“I’ve heard that women in Utah can vote, is that true?”
“It’s true,” Elizabeth said. “It is one of the things I’ve missed since moving to Idaho.”
“And what about schooling? I hear that women go to college in Utah, and they study things like medicine and law.”
“A few do.” Elizabeth turned toward Amanda. “Are you interested in those things?”
Amanda nodded and continued asking questions.
Thomas’s ears perked up. He had no idea Amanda cared about voting and education. His appreciation for the beautiful girl rose sharply.
Amanda turned to Thomas. “I could use some punch before we dance again.”
“I’ll get it. Elizabeth and Earl, would you like some too.”
“That would be nice,” Elizabeth said.
Earl nodded.
Thomas stood and walked around the dancers to the refreshment table. He picked up four glasses. Holding them awkwardly with both hands, he turned around and came face to face with Karl Miller.
Karl put both hands on Thomas’s chest and gave him a little push. “You may have won this round city boy, but you’re going away, and it will be me keeping Amanda company.”
“Excuse me.” Thomas sidestepped Karl, wanting to throw the drinks into Karl’s face.
Karl moved in front of Thomas, blocking his exit.
Thomas tried to move around Karl again, but Karl moved with him.
A man stepped up and put his hand on Karl’s shoulder. “Is there a problem?”
“No, sir, Mr. Nash,” Karl said as he stepped back.
Harry Nash nodded. “Good. I’d hate to have to ask anyone to leave this party. Now you two go on about your business.”
Thomas lowered his eyes and walked away. He could feel Karl’s eyes boring into his back as he made his way back around the constantly shifting squares of dancers.
Putting on a smile he knew was not sincere, Thomas held out the glasses. His hands shook.
Amanda and Elizabeth each took a glass and Thomas handed one to Earl.
“What’s the matter?” Amanda asked.
“Nothing.” Thomas held out his hand. “Let’s dance.”
Amanda looked over Thomas’s shoulder. “Did Karl speak to you?”
Thomas swiveled his head toward where Amanda was looking.
Karl was glaring.
“Yes, he did.”
Amanda gripped Thomas’s hand. “You can ignore, Karl. He may think we have an agreement, but we don’t.”
“He acts like you do.”
“That’s what we were talking about when you saw us earlier.”
Thomas turned his head so he could see Amanda’s face. “You saw me?”
“Yes, but I didn’t think Karl did.” Amanda sighed. “His father promised him some land when he gets married, and he’s set his mind to get a wife, but it’s not going to be me.”
“I’m going away,” Thomas said. “Karl will still be around, and he seems determined.”
Amanda blew out her breath. “I won’t be a farmer’s wife, especially at my age.”
Thomas led her to a square where a couple had just stepped out. “Have you talked to your parents about Karl?”
The fiddler slid his bow across the strings and the caller stepped forward.
“I have,” Amanda said. “Mama and Papa are in complete agreement with me.”
Thomas wondered if that was why Mr. Nash had intervened, but he was not going to mention it to Amanda.
“Bow to your partner,” the caller shouted over the music.
Thomas and Amanda bowed, waiting for the caller’s next command.
While the composition of the squares changed as couples joined and left them, Thomas and Amanda danced until the fiddler and the caller stopped for the night. The crowd had dwindled considerably, and Thomas had not noticed when Earl and Elizabeth had left. but there were still a few people in the Nash’s yard.
“I better go,” Thomas said. “I’m heading back to Ogden on Monday, and I still need to pack.” He offered his arm.
Amanda slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow, and they walked across the yard coming to a stop in front of the house.
“I’ve enjoyed my time here,” Thomas said, suddenly at a loss for words.
Amanda stepped up onto the first stair, so she was looking directly into Thomas’s face. “If you give me your address, we could write to one another. Wait here.” She dashed into the house and returned a minute later with a pencil and a piece of paper and handed them to Thomas.
He wrote down his parents’ address in Ogden and handed the pen and paper back. “How do I address letters to you?”
She smiled. “Miss Amanda Nash, General Delivery, Franklin, Idaho. I’ll look forward to the first one.” She leaned forward and kissed him.
Before he could react, she rushed up the stairs and closed the door behind her.
Thomas stood staring at the door for a few minutes, the softness of Amanda’s kiss lingering on his lips. Reluctantly, he turned and walked to the hitching rail and untied his horse. The horse snorted and nuzzled his hand. Lifting his left foot to the stirrup, Thomas swung his right leg over the saddle. He adjusted his hat and gripped the reins. With one last glance over his shoulder, he tapped the horse’s flanks and rode out of the Nash’s yard into the silent darkness.
