Where Mary is surrounded by cows, again.

Catch up with chapter 43…

Start the adventure from the beginning.

Marshall pulled Mary to her feet.

They were surrounded by cows. But it didn’t seem very stampede like. They were moving slowly, more interested in trying to grab a mouthful of tall prairie grass than taking steps forward.

“What in tarnation?” A voice among the herb beasts called out.

“Who was that?” Mary asked.

Suddenly the cattle parted and a man atop a horse was in front of them.

“Where the hell did you two come from?”

“Who are you to speak to a lady like that?” Mary demanded.

The cowboy tipped his wide brimmed hat. “Sorry ma’am, only why are you out here in the middle of my herd of cattle, and how did you get here?”

“We were headed in toward the small town we saw,” Marshal said as he turned to see if he could reorient to the direction they had been headed in. “That way.”

“Ain’t no town over there.”

“But he saw buildings!” Mary cried. There had to be a town, they had been walking for so long. Her legs were still sore.

“Only buildings that way are on my ranch,” the man said. “I’m Bart Wheelwright, who might you be?”

Mary opened her mouth to speak but Marshall was already making introductions. “Marshall Hunt, and this is the wife, Mary.”

She let out an exasperated sigh before realizing the precariousness of their situation. While they were alone, without the overseeing company of others, it was best to continue this farce of their relationship. It was for her safety, after all.

“Not been married long.”

“Or using your brains,” Mary snapped.

Marshall chuckled. He wrapped an arm around Mary’s waist and dragged her in close. “The missus is right, my brains have done left me since we got married.”

The warmth of him so close to her left unable to form the chastising words she had been forming in her mind. She was the one who had gone stupid.

“Is that what happened to you? How you get out here? A case of the dumbs?” Bart asked. His horse shuffled side to side as if it was over these people speaking, and it wanted to get on with its job of wrangling the cattle.

“Yes sir, a case of the dumbs. Afraid it doesn’t put me in a good light with the missus.” He smiled down at Mary. “I didn’t do a very good job of keeping things tied up.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said. Everything that had gone wrong had not been because of him. As much as she would have blamed him for it all only a few days earlier, she knew better.

Mary turned her gaze up to the cowboy. “Not his fault at all. A friend of my sister’s husband’s family let us down. He had this boat that sailed in the sky, and it crashed. At least we thought it had crashed. When we crawled out, the wind picked up and swept it away, leaving us here.”

It was Bart’s turn to laugh. “You expect me to believe you traveled here in a flying boat?”

“It’s true, Mr. Wheelwright,” she said with determination.

“And am I supposed to believe you two are married? Sure, you didn’t run away from a wagon train?”

“Do you see any wagon trains out there?” Mary pointed toward the horizon before propping her hands on her hips.

“And I don’t see any ships in the sky, little lady.”

“My wife is telling you the truth. We were getting a ride back toward Kansas City when a storm tore the airship from its moorings. If those buildings we saw aren’t town, would you point us in the right direction? And then you won’t have to worry if we were telling you a tall tale or not. I promised the lady a real bed and a bath. I may have not thought through our arrangements properly, but I am not about to let her down.” All humor was gone from Marshall’s tone.

He sounded so tired and serious.

“No need to be like that. Come on back to the ranch with me. I’ve got beds, and a big ole bathtub for the lady.”

“You’ll help us?” Mary asked, hope returned after abandoning her earlier.

“I sure will. You managed to get yourselves out here in the middle of nowhere. There’s a story there, and if it involves airships, I’d be interested in hearing it. All I get around here is the noises this lot makes, and the same ole stories from my hands when they’re around.”

Bart swung his leg back and over the horse. He dropped to the ground. “You want to help your wife up into that saddle. I suspect she’s tired from all the walking you’ve had to have been doing.”

“I get to ride? But what about you?” Mary asked.

“We can walk,” Marshall said. “Come up, let’s get you up there.”

He started to place his hands around her middle.

“Give me a leg,” Mary demanded.

Marshall looked at her out of the corner of his eyes.

“I know how to ride, but I need a leg up. Your knee.” She pointed to his leg.

Marshall nodded and bent his leg. He held out his hand, and grasping Mary’s hand he lifted as she placed her small foot on his thigh, and then vaulted herself into the saddle.

“This horse is almost as high up as being on the back of Kim,” she announced.

“Is Kim your horse back home?” Bart asked.

Mary practically giggled. “No, she was a delightful sauran I used to ride.”

Burt grabbed the reigns of his horse and began walking. He looked up at Mary, and then to Marshall. “Why do I think there is more of a story here than just an airship?”

Has their luck changed? Will Mary and Marshall make it the Wheelwright ranch without incident? Find out next time…

©2026 Lulu M. Sylvian