Queen of the Prairie by Tim Mosier

Synopsis

Sedalia, Missouri was the farthest western railhead in 1887 and the end of the trail for countless cattle drives arriving from Texas. After months on the trail, weary cowhands sought hot baths, lots of whiskey and wild, wild women; Sedalia offered all three. Clint Masters began the long trek to Missouri as an inexperienced boy, but somewhere along the trail, he grew to manhood. The last thing he expected when he reached his destination was to fall in love, but he did with a beautiful young woman by the name of Rose. However, Rose kept a dark secret, she worked as a prostitute in one of Sedalia’s many brothels. As their romance strengthened, Rose exposed the truth and pleaded for Clint’s forgiveness. Queen of the Prairie tells the heart-warming story of these two dreamers, how they met and overcame the difficult challenges of frontier life and against all odds, forged an enduring love and an exciting future together.

Taster ...

Clinton Masters stopped his horse. The sweltering noonday sun beat down on the parched landscape below with unyielding fury. He wiped the mixture of sweat and dust from his eyes and scanned the distant horizon. Seeing nothing, he nudged his horse forward. He and the other ten cowhands had been on the trail since sunrise and they were exhausted. The sun is high, ought to be close to noon, he thought as the herd of Texas Longhorns poked along, I hope we stop to rest soon. I've just about reached the end of my endurance.

Moments later, the trail-boss, Jake O'Bannion, appeared from a small grassy knoll ahead. He signaled them to dismount and meet him atop the hill. Jake got off his horse and tied the reigns to a stump jutting outward from a clump of old oak trees. Soon, eleven weary cowboys trudged toward the shade trees leading their horses behind them. After tying their horses, they sauntered toward the trail-boss and huddled around him

"Sit down and cool off boys," Jake rasped then he raised a canteen to his lips and gulped down the last of his water. "It's too damn hot! We need a break and this is as good a place as any."

Bone tired, the cowboys sprawled beneath the shade trees and removed their hats to cool their heads. The sweltering heat, grungy trail dust, and the long hours began to take their toll. None of them spoke. Instead, they soaked up the shade and tried to make themselves as comfortable as possible.

Clint sat on a fallen log next to his longtime friend, Garret "Bo" Smith. He loosened the blue bandana from his neck and wiped his sunburned face. Then he leaned forward, rested his chin on his hands and pondered. I don't know about Bo, he thought, but I'm not sure I can go on any further. It's been months since we left Texas. Damn! Will it ever end? He turned his head toward Bo and said just above a whisper, "Seems like we're never gonna get to Sedalia."

"Uh-huh, know what you mean, Clint," he said despairingly. "We've been eating dust for seven weeks now, or has it been eight? Hell, I can't remember. It's all running together."

Disgusted, Bo reached to the ground and picked up a few pebbles. Then he took careful aim at a bright green grasshopper and pitched the stones one at a time at his target. The boredom and routine monotony of the trail was a constant, redundant companion.

"Any idea when we'll reach the Missouri border, Clint?" Bo asked.

Jake—knowing his men were dog-tired—overheard Bo's question and he intervened. "We ought to reach the Missouri border tomorrow morning, Bo," he said loudly so the others could hear.

Clint and Bo glanced at each other flashing smiles on their faces. They had faith in their leader. If Jake O'Bannion said something, a man could rely on it. He was the most experienced trail boss in Texas. Jake had driven more Longhorn cattle to Missouri than any other man and his peers considered him the best in the business. He knew every inch of the Chisholm and the eastern Sedalia Trails.

"We'll get there in about two-weeks, as long as we don't run into any trouble," Jake added, lifting the cowhand's downed spirits.

Clint and Bo took notice of Jake's comment. The cattle drive was their first and it had been an unusually tough, grueling trip. Clint, age 23, and Bo, 21, began the cattle drive as boys. However, the hard life on the trail had quickly turned them into experienced young men. The remainder of 1887 promised to be an exciting year for both of them. Looking forward to the end of the trail, they idly chattered about what lay ahead.

Ben Stiley, an experienced, trail-hardened cowhand, sat nearby and listened to the boys rave back and forth about what they would do when they reached their destination - Sedalia, Missouri. Ben often growled and snarled, but those who knew him never took his gibbering seriously. In fact, he had a good heart. Ben had little education, but he knew cattle and Jake valued his experience as a trail hand. Nobody really knew his age for sure. Some said he was in his late fifties; others thought he was much older. However, neither Clint nor Bo cared less how old he was. They enjoyed listening to his stories and encounters, even though they knew he stretched the truth a bit here and there. Knowing that Clint or Bo did not have a clue how to survive the grueling trek to Missouri, Ben watched over them from day one and took them under his wings.

"What's the damn hurry?" Ben squawked as he raised the brim of his sweaty hat up past his eyebrows. "Greenhorns! Quit your bellyaching! You two won't know what to do when you get to Sedalia anyhow!"

"Huh! That's what you think," Bo snapped defensively. "We know plenty!"

"Bullshit!" Ben blurted out, "and what's all this talk about women? I suppose the both of you are lady-killers!"

"We sure are," Bo countered nodding his head defiantly. "Tell him Clint! We've got plenty of lady friends back in Texas, don't we?"

Clint, the wiser of the two, thought it would be best to change the subject knowing they had no knowledge of courtship. He replied, "Heck, settle down, Bo. Ol' Ben is just teasing. We'll do okay once we get to Sedalia."

Jake, listening to the conversation, shook his head and chuckled.

Ben thought about a counter attack, but changed his mind. Instead, he reached down, plucked a long green weed from the ground and put it into his mouth. He chewed on it for a while and then spit it out when he started laughing. Whatever caused the outbreak must have been very amusing. He cocked his hat high on his head, turned his attention to the boys and asked them a question. "Has either of you two greenhorns ever been with a woman?"

Ben's inquiry caught Clint and Bo by surprise. Worst yet, the other cowboys overheard his question and they waited for a response. Neither knew what to say and they groped for a suitable answer, truth or lie, to save face.

"I thought so," Ben said antagonistically. "Just as I figured. You're both virgins, aren't ya?"

Clint and Bo's silence spoke volumes. Ben laughed heartily and the other cowboys joined in on the fun. Clint, quick to temper, flared his nostrils, stood up and shouted, "Just never you mind our business! We'll have plenty of women when we get to Sedalia. You'll see!"

"Whoa, now, greenhorn," Ben yelped. "I didn't mean to raise your dander, just having a little fun."

After the laughter subsided, Ben reached in his pocket producing a shiny silver dollar. He wiped the dust and grit from the coin and then he flipped it toward Clint and Bo's direction. Clint reached out and grabbed it. He examined the piece closely noticing a woman's name engraved on the back. The name was Rose.

"Where did you get this coin, Ben?" Clint asked.

"Got it in Sedalia, in 1885."

Clint handed the silver dollar to Bo who likewise thumbed the coin.

"Who is Rose?" Bo inquired curiously.

"Ah, Rose, now there's a hell of a fine woman!" Ben said with a smile on his face.

Ben's reaction spurred their interest.

"Is she pretty?" Clint asked intriguingly.

Old Ben leaned back against the tree. He grinned as his mind drifted back in time two years ago when he first met her.

"Is she pretty, Ben?" Clint repeated his question.

"Rose is the Queen of the Prairie," he replied dragging out his words. "She's the prettiest woman in the Mississippi Valley."

Queen of the Prairie: Copyright © 2003 Tim Mosier