Reno's Journey: Cowboy Craze (The Wild West)

by Sable Hunter

  By

  Sable Hunter

  WILD WEST SERIES

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  RENO’S JOURNEY

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright 2020 © Sable Hunter

  Cover: JRA Stevens for Down Write Nuts

  Formatting: Down Write Nuts

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  About the Author:

  SABLE’S BOOKS

  CHAPTER ONE

  What is meant to be –

  is meant to be – no matter what.

  2011 – Journey at 15

  “I wish I could dress this way all the time.” Journey Stanton twirled in front of the antique full-length mirror, admiring her own reflection. “How do I look, Auntie?”

  Myra Weiss glanced over to smile at her great-niece who was dressed in a full-skirted yellow frock made from the finest lawn cloth, complete with lace and ribbons. “The gown is a little big, but you look marvelous. If I didn’t know better, darling, I’d think you just stepped off the set of Gone with the Wind.”

  Journey raised a fist, smirked in the mirror, then scrunched her face into an impassioned expression. “As God is my witness, I’ll never be hungry again.”

  “Bravo!” On her knees, Myra continued to read labels on a stack of storage boxes. “Now, why don’t you lend me a hand?”

  “Sure.” She lifted the floor-length skirt to come to her aunt’s aid. “What are you looking for?”

  “I’m searching for…” Myra stopped speaking as she utilized all her breath to move the top box to one side. Once she managed to ease it to the floor without dumping the contents, she blew out a harsh sigh. “Genealogical records. My brother, Myles, is doing some research and I promised to give him the papers our father saved.” She lifted the lid, dug inside – then cursed under her breath. “Dammit, they aren’t here either.”

  Journey didn’t really know what her aunt was referring to, but she turned to gaze around the room. Suddenly, her attention was drawn to a large trunk resting against the front wall of the attic. Beams of light were shining through the circular window, bathing the old trunk in an unearthly glow. “Did you look in here?” Still holding the skirt aloft, she darted across the room. Kneeling, she didn’t wait for permission. Journey lifted the lid to peer inside. “Wow…”

  “I don’t think the records would be in there.” Myra moved across the room to join her. “This trunk belonged to my great-grandmother.” Settling beside Journey, she held the lid high while the girl began to reverently lift the items one by one to see what she could find. “Lace doilies, she made those by hand. Aren’t they beautiful?”

  “Yes, they are,” Journey whispered as she gently opened a wooden box. “And what are these?”

  “Brooches. Pins. She collected them.”

  Fascinated, Journey delicately touched a few of the pieces. “A bee. A sun. A flower.”

  Myra pointed at a worn book with an angel on the front. “This was her diary, sort of a cookbook, really. She wrote a bunch of recipes for herbal remedies. As much as you love anything set in the past, I bet you’d enjoy reading Great Gran’s take on things.”

  “I would. Yes.” Placing the leather-bound volume on the floor, Journey returned to examine the treasures from yesterday. “I love these gloves. Look at the tiny pearl buttons.”

  “Hmmm. Maybe we can treat them with some Woolite. They’re a bit yellow.” Myra smiled at the expression of wonder on her great-niece’s face. “What else do you see?”

  Journey’s hand landed on something cool. Metal. When her fingers clasped the item to pick it up, she felt a strange tingle go up her arm. “What’s this?”

  Myra leaned closer, stopping to inhale a whiff of Journey’s sweet scent. Love for the young girl made her heart swell with joy. Journey would never know the happiness and meaning she gave to an old woman’s life. “Let me see?” She held out her hand about the time Journey turned the item over so they both could see. “Oh, I remember him,” Myra muttered with a smile.

  From the moment her eyes focused on the faded tintype photograph, Journey was captivated. At fifteen, most of her friends were totally boy crazy. Until this moment, she hadn’t understood what all the fuss was about. “What’s his name?” Her heart was racing as she studied the man’s face. He was beautiful. Long black hair. Dark kind eyes. There was such strength in his face.

  “Reno Black.” Myra reached out to grasp the picture frame. Journey reluctantly let it go. “My father told me such stories about him.”

  “I want to know them too. Tell me, please.”

  Myra’s eyes twinkled at the urgency in the young woman’s voice. “Hmmm. Okay. I can do that.” She placed the tintype in Journey’s outstretched hands. “Give me a few more minutes to find those records for my brother. Once I do, we’ll go downstairs and have cocoa while l regale you with the exploits of a true cowboy hero who came to our family’s rescue when we needed him the most.”

  “I can’t wait to hear.” She gazed at Reno’s handsome face, trying to determine why he fascinated her so.

  “While I search, you take off those clothes and put them back where you found them. Neatly,” Myra instructed as she rummaged through another box.

  Doing as she was told, Journey removed the dress and folded it carefully. “When did Reno live?” A pang of regret pierced her chest as she acknowledged the fact that he didn’t inhabit the same world she lived in anymore.

  “Ummm.” Myra stopped to think. “He fought for the Confederacy, so 1850’s and 60’s. He and six of his soldier friends came to Texas after the Civil War was over. They traveled with their Captain; a brave man named Kingston Ramsay. Mr. Ramsay came to start over after his fiancé married his brother before he could return home from the war. The rest of the company, including Reno, came with the Captain because their homes were destroyed, their lives upended. The friendship they shared was their most valuable possession. Just imagine those guys who fought side by side, deciding t
o start a new life together in the wilderness of early Texas. The dangers they faced. The risks they took.”

  When Myra resumed pilfering through the contents of the box, Journey tugged on her blouse. “Tell me more.”

  “Hmmm – one of our neighboring towns, Kingsland, is named for the Captain. Some of his descendants still live over near Packsaddle Mountain. I think their last name is Blackhawk.”

  “How about Reno’s descendants. Where do they live?” Journey asked as she replaced the clothes where she’d found them.

  “Oh, he didn’t have any. He never married.”

  Journey felt a wave of sorrow encompass her. “How sad.” Standing, she picked up the photograph once more. “Can I keep Reno’s picture in my room?”

  “I found the info!” Myra held up the folder triumphantly. Glancing at Journey, she shrugged. “Sure, I guess. If you dig a little deeper, you might find Saul’s journal. He recorded all he knew about Reno Black.”

  “Okay. I’ll look.” Returning to the trunk, Journey rummaged carefully around until she found another leather-bound book, this one appearing to be much older than the first. “Saul was my great-great…”

  “Yea, too many greats to mention grandfather. After your mother married your father, she loved to come up here and dig through that trunk. There’s no telling how many times she read and reread that journal. I bet you’d never guess you’re named for Reno’s mother.”

  “I am?” Journey was stunned. “Her name was Journey?”

  “Sojourner. Journey is just your nickname.”

  “Wow…” she breathed softly, cradling the book. “That’s so neat.”

  “Sojourner is a beautiful name. Now, straighten things up. Don’t leave a mess.”

  “Okay.” Journey did as she was told, her mind racing as she contemplated all she’d learned.

  Myra waited while her niece situated everything in its place before closing the lid. “Do you need help?”

  “Nope. Got it.” Journey handled the books and photograph as if they were made from blown glass. “Let’s go.” She gave her great-aunt a grateful smile before following her to the stairs leading from the attic. “I can’t wait to learn more about Reno.”

  …In a little while, Journey sat mesmerized at her aunt’s feet as Myra shared what she could recall about the man in question. “Sojourner was Cherokee, so Reno was half. He rode a big black stallion named Traveler. And I guess you could say he became the guardian for Saul, his brothers, and his sister.”

  “Like you’re my guardian.” She smiled at her aunt with love in her eyes.

  “Yes.” She gave Journey a quick hug, then settled back against the soft cushion of the moss green couch. “Except they weren’t related like we are. What he did for those boys and Tess, he did out of the goodness of his heart.”

  “How did he meet our family?”

  Myra took a sip of cocoa and winked indulgently at the girl. “The whole story is in Saul’s journal – but I’ll tell you a little bit.”

  Journey hung on her every word.

  “One night, our ancestor Saul was out trying to snare a rabbit when he came upon Reno and two other men camping in the shadow of Enchanted Rock. A young woman was with them who was dressed like an Indian squaw. After eavesdropping long enough to find out they’d rescued her from the Apaches, he decided it was safe to make himself known. Since he’d had no luck with the rabbit, Saul was desperate to find something to feed Huck, Emory, and Tess. He hoped these men might have some food to spare.”

  “Did they?” Journey’s voice was tight with excitement.

  Myra laughed. “Saul didn’t starve to death or you and I wouldn’t be sitting here talking. Would we?”

  “I guess not.” Journey giggled. “So, what happened next?”

  Her aunt lowered her voice to make the story more exciting. “Reno heard Saul rustling in the bushes and jumped up with rifle in hand, shouting for him to show himself. Saul came forward and explained his plight. There was no hesitation on Reno’s part, he immediately set out to find the kids something to eat. The whole party returned to the Stanton cabin for the night and new friendships were born. For the next six months or so, Reno Black did everything he could to help our family. He gave them money, repaired their roof, and made sure they didn’t go hungry. Reno practically moved in with them.” She laughed softly. “I remember reading in Saul’s journal how crazy the cowboy was about little Tess.”

  Journey gazed at the photograph, imagining this man being kind to a little girl. “Do we have a photo of Tess and the boys?”

  “Yea, I think so.” Myra rose and crossed the room to a large oak cabinet. As soon as she stepped off the woven wool rug, her heels clicked on the wooden plank floor. “This house is built on the same site as their original cabin.” When she knelt to check a few neatly stacked boxes, the older lady’s bones creaked. Journey couldn’t help but giggle. “Just wait until you get old, young lady. It’s the pits.” After a few moments, she stood up slowly with a box in hand. “I think I’ve found it.”

  “Good. I want to see.” Journey hopped off the couch and pulled a large pillow near, so she could sit at Myra’s feet. “What happened to Saul’s dad and mom?” Journey knew the pain of losing a parent. She’d lost both of hers.

  Myra bowed her head as she lifted the lid to peer inside. “Fever. Saul wrote how his mother traveled to help a neighbor deliver a baby. While she was there, she became ill. Her husband went to fetch her, but he fell sick also. They both died, as did the entire family they were trying to help. Saul and the other children didn’t come down with the disease, thank God.”

  Journey waited patiently as Myra took her time, glancing at every photo. “The girl Reno rescued, was she okay?”

  Nodding, Myra kept thumbing through the pictures. “Yes. Her name was Amelia. I think she had a hard time of it for a while. I mean, who wouldn’t? Her parents were murdered, and she was taken captive. There’s no telling at the horrors she endured.” Myra sighed. “She probably didn’t even know if her little brother was alive until after she was rescued. His name was Ace. The folks at King’s Ransom took him in after they caught the little rascal trying to steal a pig.” She laughed at the thought. “There’s probably more about her in Saul’s journal. It’s been such a long time since I read it. I can’t remember everything.” Suddenly, she stopped and smiled. “I found the picture.”

  Journey went up on her knees to gaze at her relatives from long ago. “Oh, look at them. They’re so cute.” The children looked stilted. Their eyes were large, and none wore even a hint of a smile. “So, this is Saul.” She pointed at the older boy. “He looks like my dad when he was young.”

  “He does,” Myra agreed. “And this is Buck and Emory.” Her finger grazed the surface of the tintype. “And Tess.” She lifted her head and looked out the window toward Enchanted Rock. “One of Reno’s good friends was an Englishman. A nobleman named Gentry Nelson. He’d left his home county and moved to America because he was entranced with the idea of adventure and the wild west. He fought in Reno’s unit and came with the group when they moved to Texas. Somehow, he managed to juggle being a cowboy and a member of the peerage.”

  “What’s that?” Journey asked with curiosity.

  Myra waved her hand. “Sorry. A member of the peerage is someone who has a title – like Baron, Marquess, or Viscount. Gentry was an Earl until his father died, then he became a Duke.” She patted Journey on the hand. “Anyway, the man loved to tell stories about English society. Lords and Ladies. Camelot type stuff. Saul said Reno was fond of one tale Gentry told about Sir Walter Raleigh placing his cloak across a mud puddle so Queen Elizabeth wouldn’t get her shoes wet.”

  Journey giggled. “How romantic.”

  “Sir Walter Raleigh was a gentleman and Reno wanted to be just like him. From all accounts, he succeeded. Saul wrote how Reno loved little Tess so much he bought her beautiful dresses. Anytime it rained, he would carry her around to keep the boys from splashing mud on her sk
irt.”

  “Aww, that’s sweet.”

  “Yea.” Myra agreed with a sigh. “They don’t make men like Reno Black anymore.”

  “They don’t?” Journey asked all wide-eyed and innocent. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, he put others first. He was brave. Honorable. A knight in shining armor. And for the short time he spent with them, he was a good father to those children.”

  “Short time? What do you mean? Did he die?” she asked, her voice holding a sense of panic.

  Myra shrugged. “No one really knows. Everyone assumed so.”

  “When?”

  Seeing Journey’s dismay, Myra tried to soothe her. “Honey, he was born in 1843. He wouldn’t be alive now, no matter the circumstances.”

  “I know.” Journey looked distraught. “I just wanted him to have lived a good life. What happened?”

  “Well, Reno Black disappeared in 1869. During an Indian attack, he led a war party away from the Stanton children and vanished. His body was never found, and no one ever saw him again.”

  Reno at 15 – 1856

  “No. Please, Pa. Don’t go.” Reno ran behind his father as he hitched up one of the horses to the buckboard. “Don’t leave us.”

  “My mind is made up, son. I’m sorry.” Silas Black didn’t even look up as he fastened the halter to the lead. “Cole, bring your things!”

  “Do something, Mama.” Reno turned toward the door of the cabin where his beautiful mother stood stoically. “Stop him.” When she said nothing, he ran to her. “Please, I don’t want them to go.”

  “Nor do I, beloved.” Sojourner placed a tender touch on Reno’s shoulder. “We can’t stop them. I saw this in the waters. The future is written in stone. Your grandfather demands your father leave us and return home or he will receive no inheritance.”

  Pulling away, Reno ran into the yard, turning in a circle. He didn’t know what to do. His life was falling apart – and he didn’t understand what was going on. “Why does Cole have to go with him?”