BEYOND THE RIVER BEND| Little Puma

Winifred rose from the bed. The first rays of the sun had not yet slipped through the curtained window. She put on a light walking dress. Taking care not to wake Jerome, she slipped out of the room.

The steps creaked under her heels in every possible key. Winifred cautiously glanced back at the door behind which her husband was presumably fast asleep. Convinced that there was no danger, she descended to the ground floor.

She felt relief simply from being a little farther away from Jerome. She had only a couple of hours before he woke up. Winifred desperately wanted to spend that time alone with herself and her thoughts.

The bloodstain on the shirt still troubled her. She sat down on a rough little sofa by the window and propped her head on her hand.

Jerome said the blood belonged to "a two of fools." Who was he talking about? Could he have already gotten into a fight with some of the settlers? I would not want any trouble because of that...

"Are you all right, ma'am?"

Winifred started in fright. She turned a bewildered look toward the intruder upon her peace.

"Oh, I am sorry for startling you, ma'am." The now‑familiar maid smiled. "New guests will be arriving soon. Would you mind if I wipe down the table?"

"Not at all..." Winifred muttered absently. She was still not fully composed.

The maid cast a sympathetic glance at her. She seemed to want to ask Winifred a question. Instead, she simply picked up a rag and began to wipe the layer of dust that had settled on the table overnight.

Winifred paced the space. Returning to the room where Jerome lay sleeping was the last thing she wanted. She raised her eyes to the door. The image of the two Osage she had met at Miss Henderson's store suddenly surfaced in her mind.

Winifred swallowed hard. Another thought came to her, far more terrible. She shook her head, trying to drive it away. But the thought took firm hold of her.

Could that blood have belonged to the girl and the man..?

***

Ahead stretched the prairie. It was in full bloom and pulsing with summer heat. Winifred examined every little bush and every flower with a child's delight. She cried out in admiration whenever large buffalo heads appeared in the distance.

Jerome, however, looked at the beauties of the Kansas landscape with his usual indifference. He slowly puffed on his pipe and sent foul smoke everywhere.

The carriage, meanwhile, crossed a wide trail. Winifred noticed a blurred silhouette taking shape ahead.

"Is that it? Our house?" she asked.

Jerome turned around. For the first time during the entire trip, a smile appeared on his face.

"Right, my dear. It is only a frame for now. But you will see, you will like it."

A short while later, the carriage stopped a few yards from the wooden structure. Winifred nimbly jumped to the ground without waiting for Jerome's hand.

Before her stood a two‑story, barely finished house without a roof, doors, or windows. Yet even now, Winifred thought of how beautiful it was.

And how terrible it would be to live in it with Jerome...

"Come, I will show you what it is like inside," Jerome called to her.

As Winifred had expected, the house was divided into a ground floor and a second floor intended for her and Jerome. Below were areas for a future entrance hall, a living room, a kitchen‑dining room, and a guest room. Upstairs were their marital bedroom, a library, and a spacious nursery.

Winifred felt a bitter lump rise in her throat. She swallowed it convulsively and turned her gaze to her extremely self‑satisfied husband.

"Do you like it, my dear?" he asked and squeezed Winifred's arm tightly below the elbow. "I especially love the room for our future children. I have thought so much about them, dreamed of them. Now that a new chapter of our life has begun, it is time for us to become parents."

Winifred stared at Jerome with a blank look. She nodded like a wind‑up doll. But in her mind, she was screaming with despair. She realised the nightmare that awaited her.

"You... you are right, Jerry. I dream of it too," was all Winifred could manage. She quickly freed herself from Jerome's grip.

***

There was not a shred of lies in Winifred's words. She had dreamed of children for as long as she could remember. In the evenings, she would rock her dolls to sleep, imagining they were her daughters. But all her dreams shattered on that ill‑fated day when she could not say "no" to Jerome and let him put a ring on her finger...

"God damn it..." Her husband's voice tore her from her mournful thoughts.

Winifred looked up first at Jerome, then at the road. Her heart raced when two riders appeared ahead. Jerome reached for his rifle, but Winifred stared at the young Osage coming straight toward them. She could not tear her eyes away.

One of them was younger. His long hair swayed in the wind, and his dark eyes gleamed menacingly from under lowered lashes. He overtook his companion and gave the Kingsley carriage a furious glare. Only when the second Osage drew level with them did Winifred recognise Little Puma. His grim face betrayed no emotion. But Winifred thought he recognised her too. After riding a little ahead, Little Puma turned around. Winifred swallowed and wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on the folds of her dress. Jerome slowly lowered his rifle.

"Those bastards again..." he hissed through his teeth. "They are damned lucky I did not shoot them today."

Winifred went cold and turned to Jerome.

"You shot at them?"

From Jerome's look, she understood that he had let it slip. This made her deeply uneasy.

Could that blood on his shirt really have belonged to those two young men?

Wanting to find out once and for all, Winifred took Jerome's hand and, with the air of the most caring wife, asked sweetly:

"Darling, what happened that day when you left to sort out the land?"

She waited to know the truth. But Jerome only tore his hand from her grip and hissed quietly, as never before:

"This is none of your concern, Winifred. Remember that once and for all. And God forbid you ever stick your nose into my affairs again. I swear, I will make sure you never speak again."

Winifred thought she had misheard. The blood drained from her face. Her last belief that her husband could not be such a complete bastard crumbled.

***

The James family home, the epitome of a frontier mansion, was truly magnificent. Winifred admired the white sculptures of Greek nymphs in the hall while Jerome shook Eli James's hand.

Eli turned his little eyes to Winifred, and his round pink face brightened. He stretched his lips in a friendly smile.

"In our home, we are always glad to see such a charming young lady."

Winifred blushed and, flustered, could not find an answer. At that moment, the lady of the house, Jemma James, entered the hall with ceremony. Her dry face lit up with a wide smile. She spread her arms and swept Winifred into a firm embrace. Then, in a theatrical manner, she scolded her husband for keeping their dear guests on the doorstep.

Jerome, with the air of a noble gentleman, offered his arm to Winifred and led her after the Jameses into the dining room, from which aromas of fresh pastries and coffee already wafted. As soon as they were seated at the table, Winifred moved as far from Jerome as possible, unable to bear his presence. The images of the wounded Osage still lingered before her eyes.

Eli cleared his throat. Winifred turned her gaze to him and Jemma. She tried not to think about Jerome, his words, or the blood on his shirt.

"Since you arrived in our little town, I have not stopped thanking God for bringing us together," Eli began. "Independence is still very small, but I see that you are among the few who have seen in it the key to a happy future. You have seen in it the promised land where we will build a civilisation. Believe me, soon this quiet town will become a true paradise, and we will be the ones to help it flourish. Is that not so, Mr. Kingsley?"

"You read my thoughts, Mr. James," Jerome replied, flattery upon flattery. "I came to Independence for one purpose: to build a railroad here. Once the first trains cross this virgin prairie, progress will be unstoppable. Settlers will flock to Independence like mice to the Pied Piper."

"That is the spirit I like in you!" Eli exclaimed. "Independence needs such ambitious people."

"So you are in the railroad business?" Jemma interjected. "My dear husband has found an ally in such an important matter."

Or a competitor, Winifred thought.

Jerome seemed barely able to hide his irritation. He gave a forced smile and continued:

"Indeed, Mrs. James. That is why I am here, and I am ready to offer your family a helping hand if you help me."

Jemma pursed her lips, but Eli smiled even wider.

"And we will definitely lay the railroad here as soon as it becomes possible."

The smile slowly faded from Jerome's face.

"Are there problems with that, Mr. James?" he asked warily.

Jemma gave her husband a testing look and nodded to him. Winifred was all ears. Eli cleared his throat into his fist.

"You see, Mr. Kingsley, the matter is that our neighbours, the Osage, are extremely unhappy with the influx of new settlers. In order to lay the railway tracks, the tribes living here must leave Kansas." Eli took out a handkerchief, mopped his sweaty brow, and continued: "A deal with the Osage has essentially been struck, but the chiefs are dragging their feet on signing the treaty. And God knows, they will not sign it any time soon."

Jerome pressed his lips into a thin line and looked at Eli for a few moments before answering:

"If the Osage are dragging their feet on the treaty, perhaps we should shake them up a bit. What do you say?"

Eli chuckled.

"If it were that simple, Mr. Kingsley, Independence would have had a railroad long ago. But alas, the Osage are a stubborn people and will not give up these lands so easily."

Jerome stretched his lips in a predatory grin and took a sip of coffee.

"Believe me, Mr. James, I have vast experience in dealing with Indians. I will find a way to solve this little problem..."

Little problem? You call the Osage a problem?! Jerome Kingsley, you are such a bastard!

Eli visibly brightened. Rubbing his hands, he took a glass of whiskey and raised it before him. Jerome followed suit.

"I will not be afraid to repeat, Mr. Kingsley, Independence needs such determined people as you! The future of our town rests on you! It is a great honour for me to become your ally on this difficult but thrilling path. I raise this toast to you, Mr. Kingsley, to your charming wife, and to the future of Independence!"

"To the future of Independence!" Jerome exclaimed.

***

Winifred returned to the hotel completely devastated. Dozens of questions swarmed in her head, and she could not find an answer to any of them. She spent the rest of the day in bed. For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to sob in despair.

Today, she finally understood what lay behind the promises of free land for the settlers.
_____

Hello everyone!! Thank you for your huge support of my fanfic with Little Puma! This chapter turned out shorter than the previous ones, and it is quite intense. But I hope you will appreciate the level of tension I wanted to convey. Yes, the Osage have appeared little in the plot so far, but everything is still ahead! I promise that soon we will see more of Little Puma and his interactions with Winifred!🫶🫶🫶