The Cowboy's Lady

Chapter 1 The Cowboy

David Michael Xavier Evans was living the life. As the second son of the Marquess DeMeer he was not heir to the title, the fortune and estate lands and so was free to pursue his own life. And he reveled in it, he was a cowboy on the Chisholm Trail. He grew up consuming cowboy dime novels. Even at Sandhurst he escaped regularly from the chaos and bullying into a steady supply of Beadle's dime novels. He had always been 'horse mad' so the calvary had been his first choice. The old Marquess had been pleased with his choice and had purchased his commission and provided two horses and tack. David had served with honor and rose quickly to the rank of major only to nearly succumb to cholera and malaria in India. He sold his commission and retired to civilian life accompanied by his faithful friend and batman (military term for butler) Sean O'Brien, former Sargent in her Majesty's Army in India. David was on his fourth cattle drive as they approached Abilene Kansas.

"Damnation my leg hurts," David said.

"We're almost there, Major." Sean said.

"We'll rest up a few weeks. I'll send a telegraph and let my father know where we are. But first I want to soak in a hot bath."

"You keep saying you want to spend a few days trying the mineral baths in Mt. Clemens."

David shifted painfully in his saddle. "That would take us to Michigan, we need to return to the Red River Trading Post and make another run first thing after winter."

"You should get that piece of shrapnel cut out of you damn leg."

"I'm done letting a saw bones cut on me. I can bear the pain." David winced as he again shifted in the saddle.

"You've had your fair share of near misses and accidents this trip," Sean said.

"What do you mean?" David looked surprised.

"You came close to getting shot twice. You must have a group of angry husbands laying for you in every cow town we pass through."

"Hardly likely."

"I don't trust that Englishman that joined the drive late," Sean said. "All your troubles started about when he joined us. The shootings, a bunch of near miss accidents, the stampede just to list a few."

"You just don't like Englishmen, you damn Irishman."

"You're the only one I can put up with, and then only for short intervals," Sean said then laughed.

"I have to put up with you too. You can't even speak the Queen's English. You remind me of an old mother hen chiding me and clucking that I need to get the shrapnel out of my leg." David smiled at his friend as he spoke.

"The surgeon told you the shrapnel is moving around and could find its way to an artery."

"It could just as easily find its way out too."

They entered the city with a large group of cowboys driving the herd of cattle down Main Street and to the rail yards. The herd of cattle was strung out over a mile with groups of cowboys driving manageable groups into the Abilene. "Where we staying? You said we're doing it in style this time."

"I booked the presidential suite at one of the best hotels," David replied.

"How did you manage that, Abilene will be crawling with cow-folk."

"I managed it by telegram. I paid for the entire month in advance because we had no idea when we'd actually arrive."

"You're sure."

"I got the confirmation telegram from Ben Jones himself."

"I'm parched dry, lets stop at the saloon after we drop off the cattle," Sean said.

"I'll join you there after I send off my telegram. After that we can put up the horses and the pack mule and check out the hotel. Perhaps they even have a nice bottle of claret."

"It's whiskey I'm thirsting for," Sean replied.

"The hotel has a barber and baths. That's what I'm looking forward too, that and a fine cigar."

"You didn't mention a nice woman," Sean teased.

"Women are trouble! Unless I find someone special."

"I thought you liked just drifting," Sean said.

"I have, but perhaps I'm ready for a change. The Marquess is hinting I need to settle down."

"Any one particular in mind?" Sean asked. He removed his colorful bandanna and wiped the trail dust from his face.

"No one yet. But she should be pretty and smart. I like intelligent women. Did I mention pretty?"

"Twice, you had several pretty young ladies swooning over you in London." David brought his leg up to cross it over the saddle and began to rub his ailing thigh.

"I really don't want some timid little miss who swoons, some pampered debutante to shy to speak. I want someone with grit. Some one not afraid of a little adventure. A real lady... not afraid to poke fate in the eye if handed a bad deal."

"That's a tall order, Major."