by Vivi Holt
Antonio urged Hans forward and down the sloping bank. The horse moved slowly as it staggered and wove down the steep, eroded embankment. The sound of the stream dancing over smooth rocks filled the space with a peace that Antonio didn’t feel inside. Hans galloped toward the oak tree and Antonio dismounted before he’d even stopped. “Adam!” he cried, running to the boy. He knelt by his side and cupped the boy’s cheek. A trail of blood ran down the side of his head through his thick brown hair. His hat lay several feet away. “Adam?”
Adam’s eyes opened slowly and his pupils dilated before he groaned. “Antonio?”
“Si, it is me. What happened, chico?”
“Whitman and Al … they came for the longhorns. I tried to tell ‘em …” He groaned again and reached for the wound on his head.
Antonio’s eyes narrowed. “They came for the herd.”
Adam nodded slowly and winced. “Yep, sure did. Got some of ‘em too. I tried to stop ‘em, ‘n they shot me!”
Antonio’s brow furrowed and he stood, his hands on his hips as he paced. “Of all the conniving … codicioso, mal …”
“I thought I was dead,” murmured Adam, still palpating the wound.
Antonio stopped pacing and stared down at him with a half-smile on his face. “You are not dead, chico. You are lucky the bullet only grazed you. You will not even be able to see the scar. Do not fret – the chicas will still go crazy for you.”
Adam tried to laugh, but clutched his chest with a moan. “Ugh.”
“You fell hard?” asked Antonio.
He nodded. “Yep.” He rolled over, and Antonio saw a large flat rock behind him. “On that.”
Antonio’s eyes widened. “You are the luckiest chico I ever saw. How you are not dead or paralyzed … come, let us see if you can stand.” He reached down, locked hands with Adam and hoisted the boy to his feet.
Adam winced, but stood without trouble and walked unsteadily to retrieve his hat. “So what in tarnation happened back at camp to send those two after the herd?”
Antonio frowned. “I will tell you everything on the way back. We must gather what is left of the herd back to the camp so we can keep an eye on it.” He turned and did his best to count the remaining longhorns. He couldn’t say exactly how many were there, but he guessed about two hundred and fifty – half what they’d had when he joined the crew. Others might turn up too from where they’d wandered. It could’ve been worse. “I wonder why those two ladrónes left so many behind.”
Adam frowned. “They were tryin’ to herd up real fast and get them headin’ north. I think they left any that wouldn’t cooperate.”
Antonio shook his head. “Stupid and impatient – makes for a bad cowpuncher.”
Adam chuckled, then grimaced again.
“Do you think you can ride?” asked Antonio.
The boy nodded. Antonio helped him onto his horse and they rode over to the creek to fill their canteens, then rounded up the remaining longhorns and drove them steadily back to camp while Antonio filled Adam in on all that had happened.
Lotte dabbed her eyes, sniffled and returned the handkerchief to her skirt pocket. She couldn’t think what to do – check on Giuseppe again? Boil some water for coffee? Instead she sat on her bedroll and cried some more.
Clive Buckland was dead, just like that. It had happened so fast she hadn’t time to think about it. One minute he’d been with her, murmuring nonsense beneath his breath and thrashing on his bedroll, sweat streaming down his face. The next he was gone, still, silent. She’d never watched a man die that way before. She’d seen her family killed violently, watched men get shot before her eyes, but never sat quietly by a sickbed as someone passed away.
She shuddered and wiped away fresh tears, then blew her running nose again.
The sound of the herd returning caught her ear, and she stood and stared out over the prairie. Wild grains swayed beneath the afternoon breeze, their golden heads bending and bowing, then rebounding again. The cattle wandered slowly through it, stopping here and there to grab a bite before moving on.
She heard the sound of a whip cracking behind the heard announcing Antonio’s arrival. She smiled and waved a hand over her head. He waved back, and she hurried to put on a fresh pot of coffee. No doubt he and Adam would be hungry and thirsty after the night they’d had. Giuseppe might be hungry by now too – he seemed to have recovered from the fever, and when she left him earlier had been sitting up on his bedroll sipping water from his canteen.
Suddenly she remembered she’d promised to bring him some crackers an hour ago. She finished stoking the fire, added more firewood, set the coffee pot to boil, added beans to the Dutch oven and set it on the side of the fire. She could see Antonio and Adam rubbing down the horses as she scurried to the chuck wagon to fetch soda crackers and an apple for Giuseppe. The fruit would do him good.
By the time she’d returned to the fire it was burning hot, and she used a cloth to pull the Dutch oven back from the flames. Antonio had already removed the coffee pot and he and Adam sat against their saddles, sipping from steaming cups. “You made it back,” she said, scooping steaming hot beans onto plates.
Antonio sipped his coffee and looked at her with a frown. “Is everything all right?”
She set her ladle down and burst into tears.
Adam glanced at Antonio, who stood and came to her side as she covered her eyes with her apron and sobbed. “What is wrong, querida?” He took her hand in his, kissed the back of it and stroked her shoulder.
“Clive is dead!” She threw herself against Antonio’s shoulder and sobbed into his sleeve. “I know I am making a fool of myself. But I have not slept and I was up all night nursing him, and he died. It was awful.”
Antonio’s rubbed a circle on her back. “I am sorry, querida. He was a good man. It is a shame, everything that happened to him.”
She looked into his eyes and saw the anger there. “He should not have been treated that way by those … those thieves.” She frowned and glanced at Adam, who was staring hard at the ground in front of him, red-eyed.
“They took some of the herd,” Antonio explained. “And they shot Adam.”
“What?” she gasped, and ran to Adam’s side. “You are hurt?”
“Not badly.” He removed his hat and pointed to the raw line through his hair. It had stopped bleeding, but his hair and skin were still stained.
Her nostrils flared – how dare they? He was still just a boy, only sixteen. What kind of men did such a thing? She stamped one foot in the grass. “Well, good riddance to them. And if they come back, I will shoot them myself!”
Antonio raised an eyebrow, then laughed out loud. Adam chuckled behind a hand.
“Well, I will!”
Antonio nodded and walked over, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I am sure you would, querida. You are feisty, and I would not want to be your enemy. But let us pray they do not return. There has been enough blood shed this day.”
She laid her head against his chest and sighed deeply, grateful that Adam was safe and well, and especially grateful that Antonio was also. Things could be worse, she mused. A memory of the fire flashed across her memory and she closed her eyes, trying to block it out. It happened every so often. She tried not to remember the night she’d lost everything, but when something upset her, the memories resurfaced.
Giuseppe joined them around the fire, raising his hands toward the flames. The sun had set and a chill gripped the air. He shivered, then looked up at the trio and smiled. “Where is everyone?”
Lotte looked up at Antonio, sighed and shook her head. Antonio released her, walked over to the cook, placed a hand on his arm and spoke to him in a low murmur. Lotte covered her mouth with her hands and watched as the large Italian swayed, then collapsed at Antonio’s feet as tears coursed down his weathered cheeks. “Not Clive … no, not Clive …”
Her eyes filled with tears and she dashed them away with the back of her hand. There was no more time for tears – ther
e was too much to get done and only the four of them to do it. They had a small herd of longhorns in their care and she had to take care of the men so they could manage the cattle and the horses.
Lotte bustled to the chuck wagon and began slicing bacon into a pan.
Antonio cracked a whip beside Hans and the horse shied away from it. “Vamanos,” he hissed, setting several of the longhorns trotting north. Soon the entire herd was on its way single file across the prairie, with Antonio taking the lead. He glanced back every now and then to make sure they followed and spied the chuck wagon with Lotte driving it, and Elmo tied to the back. Adam rode ahead of the wagon, pushing the herd forward and chasing after any stragglers or escapees.
They’d crossed into Kansas days earlier and were close to the Oregon Trail. When they stopped at Baxter Springs to replenish their supplies, he’d pondered another cattle drive a few years earlier, when a disgruntled cowpoke had been run off, only to return with a gang to rustle what longhorns they could. It seemed history was repeating itself. He shook his head – he’d be happy enough never to ride through Indian Territory again in his life. Another lesson learned, one he could’ve done without.
They’d left Giuseppe in Baxter Springs. He’d had no desire to go all the way to Montana Territory without Clive, so he’d stopped there, intending to take a train back to where his family lived in New York state. He was pale when he said his goodbyes. The tears had stopped, but he wasn’t his previous cheerful self.
Antonio raised a hand to shield his eyes against the sun’s glare. He thought he saw a flash of white up ahead, stood high in the stirrups and squinted more. Yes, there was definitely something on the horizon. And before long he could see what it was – a long line of covered wagons stretching as far as he could see to the east, their canvas covers shimmering in the afternoon breeze. They drove in a line, headed west to the frontier towns that dotted the new country.
He turned in the saddle and waved an arm over his head. Lotte returned his wave, and he pointed ahead to the wagon train. She peered a moment, then waved again – she’d seen them too. They’d found the Oregon Trail. A shiver of excitement ran through his fatigued body. They drew closer to home with every step they took and he could hardly wait to get there.
Lotte sat on the wagon seat, watching the train of prairie schooners pass by. The Oregon Trail was before them, and her stomach buzzed with the anticipation of what lay ahead. But after several hours of waiting and waving to passersby as they walked beside their wagons and livestock, she was bored. She sat with her head in her hands and her elbows on her thighs, letting her eyes drift shut.
“Not long now,” said Antonio, startling her back to wakefulness. He and Adam had kept the herd grazing close by while they waited for their turn on the trail.
“Can’t we just ride beside them?” she asked with a yawn, stretching her arms over her head.
“No, we should wait. I would not want the cattle to spook or to trample a child. We need a bit of space between them and us.”
She smiled and nodded. “I hadn’t thought of that. We should eat lunch.” She clambered down from the wagon seat and wandered to the back of the chuck wagon. A small table was fixed to the back of the wagon with a joint, and she pulled it out and set its single foot on the ground. She foraged through the wagon for cured ham, freshly dried beef jerky, leftover biscuits and cheese, apples and some mulberries she’d picked along the way the day before.
She popped one in her mouth while she worked. The fruit was tart and sweet and full of juicy flavor. She’d found plenty of them in recent weeks and had even made mulberry jam with the fruit.
She laid it all out on a picnic rug in the shade of a tree near the herd and the men rode over to join her. While they ate, the last of the wagons passed them by and she watched them with a smile. “At last …”
Adam smiled, his mouth full of biscuit and jam.
“It will not be long now,” said Antonio.
Adam swallowed and wiped the crumbs from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Are you glad to be goin’ back?”
Antonio grinned. “Si, very glad. I have been away too long. Montana Territory is my home now. Everything else I had is gone – it is time for me to look to the future.”
Adam’s cheeks colored. “Do you think they’ll mind me taggin’ along?”
Antonio took a bite of biscuit and chewed slowly. “I think they will welcome you. But I cannot say whether there will be work – even for myself. Tom told me to return and I would have a job, but that was many months ago. Things change.”
Adam’s face fell and he stared at the ground while he ate.
“But do not fret. There is plenty of work in Montana – ranches, businesses, all manner of things to do. You will find your place. And we will help you.”
Adam’s eyes widened. “Yeah?”
“Si.”
Lotte smiled. She was constantly amazed by Antonio’s compassion. He could never leave someone alone when they were in want of help. He was a man of few words, often gruff at times, but he had a big heart. “What will we do with all these longhorns?” she asked as she began to pack away the remnants of their lunch. “Will you give them to Tom?”
He frowned. “I am not sure yet. But there is something I must investigate before I can decide.”
“Oh?” She arched an eyebrow.
“I cannot talk about it yet, but it is possible … no. I will tell you when I know more. Just understand that when we return, I must leave again to learn what I can. When I come back, I hope to have answers.”
She frowned, her mind racing. What was he being so cryptic about? What he was saying didn’t make any sense at all.
Antonio stood and put his hat back on. “Let us go.” Adam jumped to his feet to follow him.
They quickly rounded up the herd and led them west along the Oregon Trail. Lotte followed behind in the chuck wagon, her thoughts swirling. One thing she hadn’t asked Antonio was what would happen to her when they got to Paradise Ranch? She still wasn’t sure of her situation– she knew Antonio cared for her, and they’d shared that kiss. He called her querida, which she assumed was a term of endearment, but he hadn’t called her mi amor, the inscription on his wife’s necklace. Really, what claim did she have on him? They weren’t married, or even engaged.
When they reached the ranch, should she continue to the nearest town to look for work and a place to stay, or would she stay at the ranch? It was all so confusing. But she almost didn’t dare say anything. Receiving an answer might strip her of all hope. Worse still, what if he had no answer to give?
That evening, they caught up with the wagon train, which had been pulled into a wide circle. Each family had set up a small fire, with several congregating around a larger fire pit in the center. Children dashed around, playing and laughing. Men talked and smoked. Women hung clothes out to air, mended what was torn, or prepared supper.
A few men walked out to greet Antonio, spoke to him quietly, and he laughed in reply. Lotte couldn’t hear their conversation, but saw him point to the herd, then shake hands with one of the men. He rode Hans over to where she stood beside the chuck wagon. “They said we can camp nearby. I told them we would keep the cattle away from their wagons.”
She smiled. “Good. I will be glad of the company.”
He nodded. “I thought you might. Adam and I will sleep with the herd. You can set up your bedroll in the camp circle.”
“Fine,” she said, frowning. He seemed very happy to have her camping away from him and Adam. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be so far from him, bedding down with strangers. She began fixing supper, her thoughts spinning. After all they’d been through together, surely he wasn’t going to push her away now?
After supper, she picketed the mules and Elmo near the chuck wagon, then carried her bedroll into the circle. She felt out of place as dozens of eyes followed her.
A young woman nearby was wiping out a Dutch oven, her sleeves rolled high up her arms. She grunted as
she worked, tendrils of hair falling around her plump face. She glanced up at Lotte, then stood and wiped her hands on her apron with a smile. “Hello. I don’t think I’ve seen you before. I’m Deirdre Adler.” She held out a hand.
Lotte’s cheeks warmed as she shook it. “Lotte Velden. A pleasure to meet you, Deirdre.”
“Which is your wagon?” asked Deirdre.
“Oh, that one over there. It’s a chuck wagon for the cattle drive I’m helping out on.”
“Oh, I saw you today, waiting beside the trail.”
“Yes, that was us.”
“Where are you headed?”
“Montana Territory – Paradise Valley.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful. I’ve never been there, of course. We’re on our way to Logan, Utah – we’re aiming to find us a homestead there.”
Lotte’s throat tightened. Everyone seemed to know where they were headed and what they were going to do except her. “You and your husband?”
“Yes, and our three children.” She grinned and squatted again beside the Dutch oven. “Boy, these things are hard to clean out if you burn supper.”
Lotte laughed and knelt beside Deirdre. “They sure are. I find if you add a little water and baking soda, then heat it slowly for a few hours, most of the burned food will come off easily.”
Deirdre tipped her head to one side. “Thank you, I will try that.” She glanced at Lotte’s bedroll. “Say, will you be sleeping near the cattle, or over here with the rest of us?”
Lotte squirmed. “Well, I was hoping to sleep here …”
“Of course you can! You should put your bedroll by our tent. There’s plenty of room – if you don’t mind my noisy children.”