BEYOND THE RIVER BEND| Little Puma

"And yet I am worried, my dear... Independence is a true backwater. Why do you want to put down roots there of all places?" Winifred Kingsley asked, barely a step past the entrance of the Second National Bank in St. Louis.

Jerome Kingsley, a tall and imposing man, turned to his wife. He wore the expression of an adult explaining simple truths to a simple child. "My dear, we have already discussed this. You must understand, my darling, that Independence is not a hole. It is our opportunity. Why do you think the cream of society is already flocking there? Hundreds, thousands of acres of free land. Land where a new civilisation can be built. Land where I will build my empire." He smiled and touched Winifred's face. "Our empire."

Winifred offered a weak smile and nodded. "I suppose you are right, Jerry." She smoothed down the unruly dark chestnut strands that had escaped her coiffure and hurried toward the carriage.

Jerome offered her his palm and helped her up onto the seat. He settled beside her and signalled to the driver.

The carriage sped swiftly along the broad St. Louis street. It dispersed the sultry July air, which was thick with the scents of sun-baked earth, wilted grass, and horses.

Jerome placed his hand on Winifred's knee. "You have nothing to worry about, my dear. I have withdrawn enough cash to see us comfortably to Independence. We can purchase a wagon there."

Winifred pursed her lips. "And what of our house? How long will it take to build?"

"I doubt a month will pass before we move in. There is a hotel in town. We will not have to sleep under the stars."

Winifred squeezed Jerome's hand tighter. "They say there is not even a post office there... So I will not be able to send letters to my family..."

He raised her chin with his finger and spoke quietly but firmly. "I am your family, Winifred."

The carriage stopped at the gate of a large country house. Jerome helped Winifred out, handed a banknote to the driver, and retrieved his suitcases from the seats. He gave them to a porter. "Take these inside."

The porter nodded and set about his task. Meanwhile, Winifred entered the spacious hall. She cast a sad look around it, as if she were already saying goodbye. "I have lived my entire life in St. Louis. Leaving this city is like tearing half of myself away. I do not think I will ever grow accustomed to the thought that I will not return here."

"Independence will be better for you, my dear. The air is fresher, the water purer. A true paradise." Jerome came up behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed them lightly.

Winifred swallowed hard. She gently brushed her husband's hands away and walked toward the stairs to the second floor. She paused for a moment. She turned and asked quietly, "When do we leave?"

"The day after tomorrow." Jerome smiled with satisfaction at the corner of his mouth.

The station greeted Winifred and Jerome with the roar of hundreds of voices. It offered the clatter of horses on the paved road and the screech of wheels. A porter trudged behind the Kingsley couple with a mountain of suitcases. He sighed from their weight from time to time.

"Jerry, darling, we need to hire a second porter..." Winifred said faintly.

Jerome grunted. "Whatever for? Ours is doing a fine job."

"But he is struggling. Can you not see?"

"Nonsense! It is his job to carry our things. He is paid a dollar and ten cents for it. A handsome sum, I should say!"

"I beg you..."

Jerome turned to Winifred. He gave her that look that made her knees go weak. "My dear."

Winifred lowered her eyes to the floor. "I understand. Forgive me."

Jerome grinned into his beard and pulled Winifred toward the waiting room.

Inside, it was fresh and cool. Jerome led Winifred to the ladies' room. "Rest for now, my dear. The train will not arrive for another two hours. I will go down to the restaurant. I will buy us a basket of fruit and some sandwiches for the journey."

Winifred nodded hastily and disappeared behind the door. Only when Jerome's footsteps in the corridor faded did she allow herself to exhale. She leaned her back against the cool wood. Winifred gathered the hems of her dress and sat carefully on a soft divan. It was upholstered in purple velvet. The ladies' room was empty except for her. Winifred was glad of it.

She took a small comb from her pocket and ran it through her tangled hair. Her hands trembled with agitation. Winifred mentally commanded herself to calm down.

She did not wish to leave St. Louis. She understood, however, that her words meant nothing to her husband. At first, she had tried to persuade him. Soon, she realised how pitiful her attempts looked. If Jerome saw an opportunity to grow his business, he saw no obstacles. Winifred had no choice but to bite her tongue and follow her dear husband in silence.

She did not know what awaited her in Independence, in that wild and unsettled land. She understood one thing clearly. She was leaving St. Louis and her precious family-her mother, father, two sisters, and aunt-forever.

"You see, my dear, we have secured the best carriage. Did I not tell you? Pullman cars are a true marvel of progress. They have seats that can be converted into beds. You can sleep, imagine!"

Jerome looked like such a caring and happy husband that Winifred almost believed him herself. She smiled and pressed closer to him, as a good wife should. "You are so wonderful, Jerry. I am so glad you have taken care of us." She cooed and gave her husband the most tender look she could muster.

Jerome smiled and pulled Winifred toward their compartment. The porter carried the suitcases to the baggage car. He said goodbye to the Kingsley couple.

"Well, my dear, we will be in Independence in two days. I will buy the timber for the house there. We will be able to choose our plot right away." Jerome spoke with his mouth full of sandwich. "If, of course, you wish to help me with that." He added.

"Oh, but Jerry! I have no head for such things. I trust you, darling." Winifred sipped her coffee. She broke off a small piece of vanilla cream cake and put it in her mouth. "They are so delicious, Jerry. Would you like to try?" She brought the cake to her husband's mouth.

"Well, if you insist." Jerome deftly snatched the cake with his teeth. He swallowed it without chewing. "You are right, my dear. They are wonderful cakes."

Beyond the window, the golden prairie stretched out. Winifred greedily examined every patch of land, every blade of grass whipping in the wind. She breathed in the purest Kansas air with full lungs.

"You were right, Jerry. This is a true paradise... Oh, look, just look, Jerry! Buffalo!" She watched the two huge animals with admiration and smiled.

Jerome looked up from his newspaper. He glanced lazily out the window. "Mmm, yes, yes. Splendid, my dear..."

"They are so wonderful! Quite extraordinary!"

"Their hides are also quite wonderful. They fetch a good price, too. I have thought about going into the buffalo hide business. Still, I do not relish the idea of bothering with the beasts."

The smile faded from Winifred's face. She turned her gaze from the window and looked at Jerome. "How can you say such a thing? They are... living creatures..."

Jerome turned the page of his newspaper. He replied listlessly, "So are cows. And horses. And dogs. God created the animals to serve us. To give us food and their hides."

"It is one thing to raise cattle on a farm. It is quite another to kill buffalo for profit, Jerry..."

"You exaggerate, my dear." Jerome waved his hand dismissively.

Winifred turned back to the window. She no longer wanted to look at the buffalo. She pressed her forehead against the wooden frame and closed her eyes. Arguing with her husband was pointless. Again.

"Wake up, Winifred. We have arrived." Her husband's impatient voice tore her from her dreams.

"What? Already?" Winifred sat up in bed. She looked around wildly.

Jerome had not lied. They had indeed arrived in Oswego.

"Hurry up, my dear. We do not have much time."

"Are we in such a hurry?" Winifred asked distractedly. She pulled on her dress and bonnet as she went.

"Do you want to travel in a wagon with no comforts? They sell out quickly. So do the good horses." Jerome replied carelessly. He left the compartment.

Winifred rubbed her eyes. She grabbed her comb and the half-empty basket of fruit. She followed her husband.

At the station in Oswego, one could rent or even buy a covered wagon. A carriage with good horses was also an option. While Jerome selected and haggled, Winifred loitered in the shade next to the porter. She had not been able to get enough sleep. Her husband had woken her too abruptly. Her vision swam, and her head throbbed with a dull ache. Winifred yawned. She leaned her back against the stone wall.

"Are you feeling unwell, ma'am?" The porter spoke up.

"Oh, no, I am quite all right. Thank you for your concern. The journey was not the most pleasant, though I should not complain."

"If you feel faint, ma'am..."

"Thank you. Everything is fine." Winifred said more firmly.

The porter gave her a look full of disbelief. He did not interfere further. Soon, Jerome returned. He sent him to load the luggage onto the carriage.

"Come, my dear." He offered Winifred his hand. For the first time in their marriage, she was glad that her husband was by her side.

The carriage, drawn by two grey dapple Percherons, moved steadily along the rocky road. The air had changed. It became hot and dusty. The midday sun burned through the stretched white canvas. Winifred fanned herself with all her might. She did not feel any cooler. She leaned back in her seat and nearly groaned from the suffocating closeness. Jerome puffed on a cigar. Neither the midday heat nor the dust seemed to torment him. He sat with his legs stretched out. He lazily followed the prairie with his eyes.

"We will be in Independence by tomorrow morning." Jerome said suddenly.

Winifred almost jumped in surprise. "Yes, yes. As you say, my dear..."

Independence was precisely the kind of town one could only find on the frontier. In its centre stood a log hotel. It was the only tall building, except for the mansion of a certain Mrs. James, whom Winifred and Jerome met upon their arrival. Next to the hotel was the only store for miles around. It was run by the charming Emily Henderson. There was no school, no library, not even a church in the town. Winifred was ready to weep from despair. She realised what a hole her husband had brought her to.

"Good people here. Respectable. Not like in St. Louis." Jerome remarked when the business with the carriage was settled and the hotel rooms were purchased. "Eli James is a man of incredible spirit! You should definitely make the acquaintance of his wife, Jemma, my dear. Respectable people must stick together."

Winifred silently agreed with her husband. Not with his words about "respectability." She agreed that new acquaintances in Independence would certainly not hurt her.

"The James family has two charming daughters, Romancia and Edith. When we have our own children, I hope we shall introduce them." Jerome said dreamily.

"God forbid..."

"What was that you said, my dear?"

Winifred started. "God willing, everything will be as you dream." She smiled.

The manager led them to their room door and handed over the keys. "Have a pleasant day."

"Thank you very much." Winifred thanked the manager politely. She entered the room.

Jerome stopped at the threshold. "I must leave now to select the land, my dear. Do not leave the hotel. Wait for me, all right? The people here are respectable, but not all."

Winifred tensed. "What do you mean by that?"

Jerome fixed her with a serious look. "A tribe of Osage lives here. You cannot spit without hitting an Indian. Eli says they have taken to stealing from the settlers' homes in the town limits. In Independence, quite a few of them roam about as well. Stay here until I return. Understood?"

Winifred swallowed thickly and nodded.

Indians? Why did Jerome not tell me anything while we were at home?

"Until evening, my dear."

Jerome disappeared behind the door. The sound of his footsteps echoed in Winifred's ears for a long time. She lay down on the bed and covered her face with her hands.

I cannot believe it. That was all that flashed through her mind.

_____________

DISCLAIMER:

• The main heroine's husband is a confirmed racist. This character serves as the antagonist of this story. The use of the word "Indians" to refer to the Osage people stems from this character's worldview.

• The main heroine does NOT harbour ill will toward the Osage. She does, however, feel fear because of the things her husband has told her. I believe that Winifred's attitude toward the Osage is very similar to what Caroline experienced.

• The author does not intend to offend the sentiments of indigenous peoples.

• Although the central storyline is a love story, the tragedy of the Osage is also significant. It will receive considerable "screen time" in the narrative.

• The relationship between Winifred and Little Puma will develop slowly. The characters will need to overcome prejudice, taboos, and social pressure in order to find their way to each other.

The plot will revolve around the conflict between the Osage and the settlers. It will also centre on the roles that Winifred and Little Puma play in that conflict.

HAPPY READING!