Prologue: My name is Keira Farren. I am 18 years old and treated like a toddler by my parents. They act like I can't take care of myself and I feel like they've shut me away from the excitement of the world. My life has no color, no surprises. It's bland and dim.
Then. Then I met him. Donny Packward.
Now of course, my life has its ups and downs. Radiant colors fill what used to by the empty pages of my life. I had no idea what adventure or love or excitement really was until I met Donny. I think I owe him my new found adventuresome spirit.
Then again, you do have to have a wild spirit to be in love with an out law...
CHAPTER ONE—
"Keira! Keira darling where are you?" I sighed as I heard my mother’s frantic voice echo through the dress shop.
"Right here mother." I said, exasperated. Sometimes I need to remind myself I'm actually 18 and not 3. That's how my mother and father treat me. I do love them, even if they are over protective.
"Found everything you needed?" my mother asked fussing over me. I heard a few young girls in the corner snicker at me.
"Yes, mother. Please, let's go home now." I begged, my face flushing from embarrassment. Of course those other girls probably had a dozen siblings. I on the other hand had none, so of course my mother and father were always checking on me. I sighed. I had lived here in southern Idaho since I was born. I had never gone past the out skirts of the town.
But that's never stopped me from dreaming. I dream a lot actually. Mother tells me that I need to grow up. I only wish I could snap at her and tell her to stop treating me like a child so I could grow up. But I've never back talked my elders. Mother has always said that silence is lady like.
Silence has never stopped me from dreaming either though.
Lost in my thoughts, I vaguely remember mother buying the clothing and leading me out into the dusty street. I managed to get a glance of myself in a reflection of a glass window.
My skin was slightly tanned, and I sprouted a few freckles as well. I had shoulder long hair that was often pinned up and hidden under a bonnet or elaborately designed by my mother to show off at dances. She wants me to get married to that stuffy Ned Palmer.
I don't want to get married to Ned Palmer. Sure, he's handsome with pale blue eyes and thick blonde hair. He's rich and has even taken an interest to me.
That doesn't mean I'll love him. Ever. I have to admit that I feel foolish saying this but I'm still waiting for that man I've thought about, dreamt about, even prayed about! He's out there, I know it! And I know 'he' isn't Ned Palmer.
"Keira, darling, do watch your step!" my mother scolded softly as I stumbled slightly at being led up three wooden stairs that would soon open up into a saloon-slash-hotel. My mother and father owned it and said when I married I'd be in charge of it.
Sure, I loved the wooden walls and open rooms but in some way the dusty horizon seemed a much better catch. Sighing, I took the dresses from my forgetful mother and began to walk up the steps that would lead to a hallway. I took a right turn automatically and opened my bedroom door, closing it quickly behind me. If mother or father saw the drawing I had laid out on the floor, they would be shocked to the point of a heart attack! But I looked down at the pages lovingly and picked them up one by one. They were all of the exact same man with longish dark hair, a slightly crooked smile, a scar along his left temple running down into his collar of his shirt. Some of the picture that I had managed to color with my water paints showed that the man had one bright green eye and one smooth blue one. I sighed again, feeling a bit helpless. He was out there, I knew it! I didn't even have a name to go by, but I'd find him. Or maybe he'd find me. But I didn't have such strange dreams for no reason whatsoever.
I carefully lay the pictures in a wooden box which I placed under my bed moments later.
Then, shaking my head, I got to my feet and pulled off my bonnet and began to hang up the dress my mother had bought me so it wouldn't be crinkled.
Ha! That makes it sound like I care! No, I knew the purpose behind the dress. They were not dotting on me. I’m not dimwitted you see, like most of the other girls into the town. I know Ned Palmer is hosting a fancy ball over at his mansion of a house.
I know because he asked me. But little did my parents know, because I wasn't going to that party. I had told Ned no. It was simple as that. They could rave and rant and beg all they wanted. But Ned Palmer was not the man I was looking for, and I knew that much.
"Keira? Keira, someone to see you." my mother called from downstairs. I opened my door and headed down, my cotton dress swishing comfortably below my ankles. I saw who wanted to see me and immediately felt ready to retreat. Did the man's honor sink so low to come and try to ask me again?
A tall blonde pale young man smiled at me confidentially.
Is he ever cocky...
"Miss Farren. How good to see you." Ned Palmer said, bowing, taking my hand and kissing it gently. I felt pride in myself that I had not let my face fall into an angry glower.
"Mr. Palmer. What a surprise." I greeted dryly. My mother entered and I could tell she had heard my airy reply.
"Oh, do come in Mr. Palmer!" she said with a warm smile. I kept ridged as Ned offered his arm. Mother said it would be lady like to smile and take his arm and thank him for his politeness.
I guess I'm not much of a lady, even though I did take his arm to avoid an awkward and confused confrontation later with my parents.
We entered the sitting room and I sat down stiffly, hoping to keep my slightly pleasant composure for the next grueling minutes. My mother bustled in and out asking Ned if he wanted anything. It's actually quite enjoyable to see my mother fuss over someone else other than myself. Fascinating even. Makes my mind wander a bit.
"Miss Farren?" Ned asked. He had probably begun to talk to me. It's not much of a surprise that I had ignored him. It's merely human on my part. He is rather dull: no imagination, no stories to tell. I swear he looks as if he hasn't worked a day in his life. Which reminded me of the man I had dreamed about. I liked the way how the scared man had a bit of a worn out look around him, like he had just gotten back from a hard day of work.
"Miss Farren?" Ned repeated. I blinked and looked at him startled.
"Do forgive me. Continue...?"I said immediately- it is a sentence I have long since memorized.
"As I was saying, I have come to visit you for a reason."
"Oh, I do hope so. It would be a terrible amount of time wasted if you had come without any intention." The words flew out of my mouth but I felt no embarrassment in them. It was merely the truth. I so dearly wanted to escape from truth however. I wanted a little more lies and deceit, just to mix things up a bit.
Ned seemed slightly shocked by my calm outburst but recovered with:
"I daresay it would be. As I was saying, however, I've come to ask you yet again to accompany me to the dance tonight." Ned said bluntly, a hopeful smile on his face. I sighed.
"Mr. Palmer, my answer is the same as before. If you honestly think I can change my mind within the space of an hour you are dreadfully wrong." I said simply, standing up to point the fact the conversation was over. Ned stood up as well, his face crestfallen before he gave me a grin and said:
"Then I believe I'll be back in two hours."
"Ned, please don't." I answered bluntly. "It won't be good for your pride and I must admit it isn't doing mine any good either. If you'll excuse me, I'm not feeling terribly well. You know the way to the door Mr. Palmer." and with that I excited the sitting room, jogged up the stairs and slammed my door behind me and leaned on it. I wish he were here, the man I dream about.
But he wasn't. So I'd just have to keep saying 'no' to Ned Palmer. As easy as it sounds, believe me it isn't. I finally closed my tired eyes and collapsed onto my bed, ignoring the slam of the front door down stairs and my mother pleading voce to take back the rejection and go with Ned Palmer. Soon I was fast asleep, my pale green eyes rested from the bright drama that seemed to crowd my mind.
CHAPTER TWO—
I woke up, startled by the knocking on the door.
"Keira, are you awake?" my mother asked. I could tell she was disappointed I wasn't going with Ned from the dull tone in her voice. “
Yes, mother, I'm awake." I said alertly.
"Good. Your father and I need some help down stairs. Would you mind serving dinner to the guests tonight, since you aren't going to the dance?"
She wasn't. No, she was! She was giving me jobs I normally wouldn't have so I'd wish I was going to the ball instead. I gave a firm scowl at the door and answered:
"Yes mother. I'll be down in a few."I heard her retreating steps and gave a sigh before standing up and checking myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess and my eyes looked a little red. As I brushed through my hair I talked to myself out loud:
"Well it's not the first time you've cried in your sleep now is it Keira? No, it most certainly isn't."I sighed as I pulled my hair into a bun and straightened my dress. "Not the first time at all." I murmured. None the less, it had been a very bad dream indeed. It started like most of my dreams did: me wandering through the streets holding a large basket. Then, just like any other dream, I would see the man approach me, and tip his hat slightly. But this time, he wasn't smiling at me or embracing me like he did in other dreams. This time he walked right past me, ignoring me completely. He was followed by several other men into my father’s saloon. I tried to ask his name, but he pushed on with a slight glare. It was only a dream...but then again, every other moment I've seen the man is in my dreams as well. Finally I stood up and left my room. I didn't like how the mirror had shown my paling face, frightened and a bit disgusted. He was out there, he was waiting for me. I just had to wait. I came down stairs into the saloon with a grim look on my face, which my mother immediately recognized.
"Are you feeling alright, Keira?"
"Yes mother. I'm fine." I said bluntly, before grabbing a tray of whiskey. I swept across the room and passed the whiskeys out to a table smack dab in the middle. The men tipped their hats, slightly drunken and one gave me a wild sort of look. I felt comfort in the blade my father made me wear, hidden in my boot. Merely to protect myself, of course. Father had fought in many battles and had taught me how to use the knife if anyone tried to attack me. To admit, I was quite good with it. Shaking myself out of the dark thoughts, I went back to the bar and grabbed another tray- this one being filled with food. I checked a small note that said 'Third table' and quickly went to the 3rd table to drop off the food. These men seemed decent, at least compared to the men I had just served whiskey to.
And so the night wore on as I raced back and forth diligently, refusing to let my own mother to see any complaints. Maybe to convince my father I could do things by myself even. By the time I had finished and we locked up, I wasn't tired. I was exhausted! My dark hair had become loose and spilled over my cheeks, which I could imagine red from running to and fro. I was now washing the dishes by myself. It was tedious to scrub at the plates and my hands were raw from burning my palms on an especially hot plate. As I began to dry the dishes, I heard my parents voices raise in the room next to the kitchen. It's not very lady like to eavesdrop, but if my mother had done it, certainly I was allowed to do it as well. I peeked through a crack in the door and saw my father sitting at the bar and my mother wiping down tables.
"What do we do then?" Father asked with a sigh. "We cannot force her into loving or even liking Ned Palmer."
"I know, I know! I don't know why she has to be so stubborn about it though! The way she treats Ned Palmer makes me feel that she's been seeing someone else." I could see my mother shake her head. "Poor Mr. Palmer, I could tell he's heartbroken, the way his face fell. Keira needs to learn her own luck one of these days and see that one of the richest men in the town has taking a liking to her. I don't know how I'll ever get her to see, she can be so...so, thick about it sometimes!" my mother said, exasperated, collapsing into a chair.
"But we cannot force her." father said gently. "She has a mind of her own..."
"She has no idea what it would be like to grow up an old maid and have no children or family! She will be alone. I can't even bear the thought of her being by herself!"
"Keira is strong, stronger then we think."Father replied. "I, however, agree. She's 18 years old. she ought to start acting her age."
I felt a rage, a desire to burst into the room and shout 'then TREAT me like my age!' but I could not. the rage, the fierceness died away as my mother gave a small sob. Don't they believe in me? Don't they think I know what’s right? I sighed and leaned against the wall for support. I couldn't keep going like this. Mother wanted me to marry so I would be protected.
I don't need protection. I am strong. I can take care of myself, and I will. I may not even need the man from my dreams.
With that rebellious thought, I stood up and began to scrub the dishes with a feverish passion. soon, I was finished, but it didn't stop me. I cleaned and cleaned and cleaned until every disappointment of my 18 years, every crushed hope, every diminished dream had been cleaned right out. And when I finished with that, I went up to my room and took out my sketching pad and began to draw and draw. I don't know what I as drawing- shapes and figures.
Before long, the picture made since. It was the man from my dreams. Except this time I drew his entire body. I looked at my drawing.
He wore a cowboy hat and boots with spurs. A loose button up shirt, and wide thick leather strips over his pants, for easier and more comfortable riding. And on his belt were two pistols, hanging loosely on his belt. The guns seemed to complete him, show who he really was.
But who was that...?
CHAPTER THREE—
Morning came quickly, and I had not rested well. Late night dancers had plodded into the house at extremely early hours, laughing and giggling and ordering whiskey. I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes- it had been a long night, especially for my parents. I finally got out of bed, my pale blue night gown trailing after me slightly as I pulled my hair out of my face and began to dress for the day. Soon I was down stairs, helping my mother cook breakfast.
"Keira, you're awfully quiet today. Thank you for having the house so clean by the way. It really did help your father and I."
"Oh. Yes." I said, coming out of yet another day dream. "I decided it needed to be done so I did it."Mother smiled as I flipped a few pancakes and set them on plates. I doused them lightly with syrup before laying the four plates on a tray and exciting the kitchen and setting the plates down on the only occupied table. Then men seemed to be suffering from a hangover. Smiling bitterly, I said:
"A little whiskey goes a long way, doesn't it boys?" One of the men gave a weak chuckle and the rest gave me a bleary smile.
"Can I get you anything else?" I asked. "My mother has an excellent remedy for headaches and such. But then, I've never had a whiskey in my life, so how would I know...?"
"We'll try that remedy, miss. If you don't mind." one man said hoarsely- I recognized him as the man that had given me the wild look the night before.
"I'll go inform my mother. Excuse me gentlemen." I said, taking the tray and leaving the plates. Five minutes later I came back with four class cups filled to the brim. The murky continents made it look like black sludge and I saw each man grimace as I set the cups in front of them.
"Let me warn you, it does taste rather nasty."I cautioned. "Brace yourselves." The men picked up the glasses and raised them to their lips before chugging the drink down quickly. One man sputtered and looked ready to puke while one of the others raced off to the bathroom to do so. The man who had given me the wild look was grimacing but he finished the drink and set it down carefully. As his companions raced off, he gave me a weak smile and said:
"Thank you miss."
"My pleasure." I said dryly, a small smile on my lips as I took away the glasses.
"Have I met you before?" the man asked.
"I served you and your friends whiskey last night. Do forgive me."
The man grinned and waved his hand. "Miss, you didn't make us drink it. You only brought the temptation over." he said with a wink. "My name's Travis Mage. I don't think I caught yours miss."
"That's because I didn't give it to you. My name is Keira Farren." I introduced myself. "And unfortunately, I have dishes to do. Please excuse me." I said apologetically.
"It was mighty fine meeting you Miss Farren."
"The pleasure is all mine Mr. Mage." I said airily before escorting myself back into the kitchen. I started to scrub at the dishes. Mother was giving me a bit of a glowering look.
"Yes mother?" I asked.
"I do not understand you Keira. You will outrageously flirt with a man getting over a hangover, but refuse to go to a dance with a charming young man."
"Well, first of all, I wasn't flirting. I was being polite." I started.
"So you'll be polite to that man, but not to Mr. Palmer?"
"And secondly, Mr. Palmer is not charming. He's boring mother. He hasn't any stories or adventurous tales to tell me. He doesn't even dance that well." I concluded.
"Why Keira? Why do you have to be such a fanatical child? Why must everything be just like a story book?"
"Because mother. Just because."I stammered before throwing off my apron and marching out of the kitchen, fuming. I grabbed a basket and my bonnet before slamming the front door behind me. Travis Mage looked a little surprised at my raging figure, but I didn't care. I left the house, tears tracking down my cheeks. My mother had pressed and pushed me, shoved me into dresses, insisted I go to dances with Ned Palmer, told me to be lady like, and insulted me constantly. Why? why did I try to impress her? Why did I lie about liking the dresses or reluctantly go to a few dances with Ned Palmer? Was her acceptation even worth it? At all? The painful pins in my hair, the heavy dresses. Ned Palmers company was by far the worst! I felt my bonnet slide off of my hair which was tumbling out of the bun I had put it in. soon the bonnet completely fell off, but I didn't care. I had millions of bonnets. Mother made me wear them all the time. And I was sick of them. I wanted adventure, excitement.
I wanted the man from my dreams, with his tanned strong arms, his dark hair, his wonderful eyes, his rugged look. I wanted him so badly, it was an ach in my side just thinking about it.
But how was I going to find him? I haven't even left town before! My thoughts wandered and before I knew it, I was looking down an empty road, 300 yards away from the out skirts of town. I stood there, edging myself on, pleading with my 'lady like conscious' to ignore my fears, to take a step away, to feel excitement.
But I couldn't bring myself to it and I don't know why. Tears tracked their way down as I cursed myself for my cowardliness, I let my chin fall to my chest in anger and frustration as I stood there, unmoving, apart from the world. Then I heard a thunder of hooves, a few shouts and whoops. I let myself turn away. I didn't want to know. I really didn't whoever it was had done what I couldn't and had gone out into the world, unafraid, unconcerned. I swung on my heel and started back towards the middle of town, my dress fluttering in the useless desert wind. I heard the shouts continue behind me, but I refused to turn around.
"Yee-haw boys! Good haul!"
"You done it again Packward! Lead us into the devils nest and straight out again!" a different excited and admiring vice called.
"Devils getting’ awfully tiered of us, ain't he boys?!" another voice chortled. But soon the voices died away as I retreated back into my house, raced into my room, ignoring the shocked look of my mother and father- probably in deep discussion about me- and slammed the door behind me with a crash.
CHAPTER FOUR—
I pulled out my diary and began writing everything that had happened. I felt angry tears when I was surprised to find that I couldn't explain to my own diary why I didn't keep going. Finally I slammed the book down. Even my thoughts were turning against me!
I closed my eyes tightly as I stumbled over to the large window in my room. it had a indention in the wall that was decorated with my embroidery and blankets. I sat down next to the window and pressed my head against the hot glass as tears silently tumbled down my cheeks.
When I finally pried my eyes open, I saw that a tall blond headed young man was approaching the house. I wanted to scream at him to tell him to give up and leave me alone, to ask hi why he didn't get it. Then my eyes caught something very different. a tall man with dark hair and a cowboy hat. two shiny guns rested against his hip and a loose button up shirt fit on his shoulder along with boots with spurs and leather strips over his pants. He was followed by several other men, grinning and laugh and joking. I was at my bed room door in a second, tearing it open. I nearly collided with my mother and Mr. Palmer whom was asking her about something.
"Miss Farren!" Ned greeted. I ignored him and raced out of the saloon.
In my haste, I ran into someone with tanned strong muscles. My eyes swung up, following a scar lined temple until they reached a bright green eye and a smooth blue on. I gasped and took a step back in my shock. The man of my dreams stared at me apprehensively and in a calm smooth voice asked:
"You all right there miss?" But before I could answer, I felt my knees buckle and only saw blackness.
Crap. I fainted.
***
Donny Packward was no doctor. He’s not trained in medical ways. he doesn't even have any friend doctors. So when the young girl that had run into him passed out, he did what he did instinctively and caught her before she fell.
"Well..." Donny's brother, Frank said, his voice holding a slight amount of shock. "We can't say that hasn't happen before to Donny now can we?" his tall curly haired brother asked.
"Shut up Frank." Donny growled, staring down at the girl.
"She sure is purty," Joe announced, glancing over Donny's shoulder.
"Do you know her Packward...?" Bob asked, the slightly stocky man to Donny's left.
"I...I'm not sure." Donny admitted.
Tanner raised his eyes brows.
"I sure as heck hope not." Tanner said. "If you know a young girl like that, surly the whole town knows you by now." Donny glared over at Tanner as Jimmy piped up:
"Maybe she knows someone in the saloon. That's where she ran out of." Donny nodded to the 14 year old suggestion. Frank opened the door and Donny entered, holding the girl firmly in his arms. a tall pale -probably lazy- young man with blond hair and an older woman and man looked at Donny and his team when they entered.
"Keira!" the older woman shrieked. "What happened to her?!" The blond man marched over and tried to take the unconscious girl from Donny, but the girls eyes sprang open before he could reach her.
***
I don't know what woke me up- probably my mother’s scream. But it was most likely the fact that Ned was coming to try and take me away from the blue-green eyed man. The man carefully set me down and held up his hands to Ned- as if Mr. Palmer could even throw a worthy punch- and said:
"Now mister, I don't want any trouble."
"Then I suggest you get out of here." Ned growled I shook my head and managed to stammer:
"Excuse me Mr. Palmer; I believe this is the Farren saloon and not the Palmer saloon." I said coldly. Ned seemed taken aback by my cool reproach.
"But Keira, I-"
"Please, save your breath Ned Palmer." I said with exasperation. "This man didn't do anything wrong." I heard someone snicker behind a tall curly haired man that was standing protectively next to the man of my dreams. What was his name?!
"Thank you sir,” I finally stuttered to him. Ned seemed at loss for words- finally- and immediately the green-blue eyed man seemed to relax.
"Do I know you miss?"
"I'm not sure. I've seen you before though. How long have you been in town?" I asked.
"Only about a half an hour. Wait- yeah, I do remember you!" I felt a small bubble of hope. "You’re that girl we saw when we were riding in." the man finished. Oh. Pop.
"My name is Donny Packward. This is my brother, Frank Packward," Frank tipped his hat. "And these are our, um, friends, Tanner, Jim and Joe Nelson and Bob Bipin." all of the men tipped their hats.
"I'm Keira Farren. This is my mother Margret and my father, Richard. It's a pleasure to meet you all." I said. Finally. A name. Donny Packward.
I went through and did a detailed review. It was amazing, and long. And then my computer crashed, and I became very very sad.