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

by Sable Hunter

  “Plenty.” She sat down the bag she was carrying and began to sort through it. “I brought some face and hand cream for you. My own special blend.”

  “Is this that wrinkle-fighting recipe you were telling me about?” She held out her hand – ready to receive whatever her niece offered.

  “It is. Frankincense, rose, lavender, sandalwood, rosemary, and ylang-ylang. Fifteen drops each in eight ounces of coconut oil. You should be ten years younger in a few weeks.”

  “Ha! I wish.” She kissed the jar. “At my age, I’m always looking for a miracle cure.”

  “I hope it works for you.” Journey took a seat in the rocking chair. “I invited my friend Lou Evans to come visit while I’m here. I hope that’s okay.”

  Myra frowned as she sat down across from her niece. “This is your home, Journey. Of course, it’s okay.” A sly little grin came to her lips. “Speaking of medicine…maybe you’d like to have a date join you for dinner. You could go for a long walk in the park. A horseback ride by moonlight perhaps?”

  “I don’t think so.” Journey didn’t want to elaborate. “Not this trip.”

  They held one another’s gaze for a moment until Myra threw up her hands. “Very well.” She took a long breath. “Let me think. Is there anything else you need to know?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You have my cell number. And there’s a list of emergency numbers on the fridge – you know, if the lights go out or…whatever.”

  “Won’t 9-1-1 work?”

  Myra made a face at Journey. “In most cases. Just remember – you aren’t in town. Even though you’re only a half hour or so out of Fredericksburg, help won’t get to you as fast as it would in Austin. I don’t have many close neighbors. In fact, you could go outdoors right now and scream as loud as you could, and no one would hear you. Even cell phone service is scant out here – probably something to do with that huge mountain of granite just across the way. That’s why I still have a landline. Thank God.”

  “I’m glad you have both phones. I want to be able to check on you often.” Journey reached down to pet Cleo and Dudley. “Call me when you get to Wichita Falls.”

  “Oh. I will.” She sighed loudly. “This is hard. I’ve visited Myles many times. This trip, however, I’m afraid will be my last.”

  Journey rose to hug her aunt. “I’m so sorry. Tell him I love him. Will you?”

  “Of course.” She rose to her feet, holding onto Journey’s hand. “I guess I’d better be going.” Myra wagged her finger at the two dogs. “You children be good. Mind Journey.”

  “We’ll be fine. I’ll take care of everything. Don’t you worry.” She walked her aunt to the car and stood waving as she pulled out of the drive and headed north.

  Reno

  Reno moved slowly, his footsteps measured, keeping as close to the cover of trees as possible. He could sense no one nearby. His fear of a raiding party seemed unfounded. Most likely the individual was just passing through, taking advantage of any opportunity to scavenge what was available. Taking his time, he cocked his head, listening for any noise that might give away the intruder’s location. Hearing nothing amiss, Reno ventured on, following a half-moon route near enough to the homestead that he could keep the cabin in view.

  He knew Saul wasn’t happy about his decision to escort them to King’s Ransom. Sometimes the boy was too hardheaded for his own good. Although, Reno couldn’t help admiring the young man’s determination to keep his family together. “Don’t mean I’m going to leave them to the mercy of whatever’s out here. They’re my family too, dammit.” He mouthed the words more silently than a whisper.

  Moving on, Reno began to ease back toward the cabin. He was about fifteen yards away when the sound of hoofbeats broke the silence. Immediately, Reno raised his rifle and broke into a run, rounding the corner just in time to see a horse and rider approaching.

  “At ease, soldier. It’s just me.”

  Recognition swamped Reno as his shoulders sagged with relief. “Clay.” He lowered the rifle. “Hell, I’m glad to see you.”

  Dismounting, Clay led his horse to where Reno was standing. “I was hoping to catch you before you left. How are the kids?”

  “They’re fine. For now. I can’t let them stay here though. Just ran a trespasser out of the barn.”

  Clay’s hand went to the pistol on his hip. “Indian?”

  Reno shouldered his rifle and pushed his hat back on his head. “Yea. Appeared to be.”

  “Want to go looking around? I’ll go with you.” Clay offered seriously.

  “No. If he’s waiting up in the hills, he’d see us coming a mile away.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Come on in. I told Saul to start packing. I’m taking them to King’s Ransom in the morning.”

  “Good.” Clay walked beside Reno to the barn to get his horse settled. “I’m glad they’re going. What about your trip?”

  Reno opened the barn door and shouldered his rifle as he moved inside. “I’ll head on to Waco to catch the next stagecoach as soon I get the kids to safety.”

  “There’s no reason I can’t escort them home. Is there?” Clay waited while Reno lit a lantern. “You can head north from here. It’ll save you from doubling back. Right?”

  “Sure would. Thanks.” Reno took a look around the barn as Clay cared for his horse. Mixed feelings filled his chest. “I’ll tell you the truth, I’ve never wished I could be in two places at once more than I do right now.”

  Clay cleared his throat. “Your brother needs you. We’ll take care of the home front while you’re gone.”

  “I know you will.” He filled a bucket with oats for Clay’s horse. “You’ve never let me down.”

  Clay let out a long breath. “I wish that were true. You know I let you down.”

  Reno removed the blanket from his friend’s horse and placed it on a bale of hay, indicating for Clay to place his saddle on top of it. “I understand how you felt. Losing your uncle and cousin at Five Forks.”

  “Still, my attitude was uncalled for. I treated you like shit just because you made contact with your brother.”

  “You’ve apologized enough. The only thing you knew of Cole and my father were the bad things I told you about.” He’d never bothered to speak of the good times. “When I went to meet with my brother, you were afraid for my safety.”

  “True, but…I should have gone with you rather than acting like an idiot. I let my misplaced sense of loyalty cloud my judgement. When all was said and done, the color of our uniforms didn’t matter so much. Most of the boys I knew didn’t even understand why they were fighting. They didn’t own slaves. War’s a funny thing, men don’t usually fight for a cause. They fight because they don’t want to let their comrades down.” He bowed his head in remorse. “And I let you down.”

  Reno shook his head. “Water under the bridge. You’ve proved yourself a thousand times over as far as I’m concerned.” He made sure the trough was full. “Let’s go in. There’s food. Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat.” Clay slapped his hat against his knee. “Lead on.” After Reno latched the door, they began their trek to the cabin. “The Locum place was hit. Got burned out.”

  Reno stopped in his tracks. “You’re just now mentioning this?”

  Clay shrugged. “I was glad to see you.”

  With a snort, Reno chuckled. “What did you hear? Are they alive?”

  “Yea. Mr. Locum was there when I rode past, searching through the rubble. They managed to escape, but a war party raided the place, taking everything of value and burning the house and barn to the ground. Stole all the livestock too.”

  “Damn. The Locums are less than a mile from here. The man I ran off was probably a scout. This place could be next.” He picked up his pace. “Hell, I’ve got to get the children to safety before they come back.”

  Just before they reached the door, it swung open and Saul stood there with a pale face and dark eyes. “Mr. Clay! How are you?”
/>   “Fine. Fine.” He shook the boy’s offered hand. “Heard you had a visitor earlier.”

  “We did.” Huck inserted. “An Injun. He didn’t hurt us though.”

  Reno moved to the fire and propped his rifle next to the hearth. He noticed Emory was curled up on a pallet playing with his turtle while Tess was napping with her doll. “Soup smells good. Saul, get Mr. Bennett a bowl.”

  “Sure thing.” The boy did as he was asked. “I packed a few things, Reno.”

  “Just a few things?” He moved to one of the four windows in the cabin to peer outside. All seemed clear.

  “Yea. Do you think it’s really necessary for…?”

  Reno cut Saul’s question short. “Yes. It is.” He glanced at the boy and tried to ignore his beseeching eyes. “I know you’re worried about this cabin. But it’s just a house.”

  “No, it’s all we have left of our folks,” Saul’s protest started loudly, but lessened when he saw he’d awakened his little sister.

  Closing his eyes, Reno was silent for a moment. Finally, he lifted his head. “You and your sister and brothers were your parent’s most precious possessions – not this cabin. Not this land. You.” He swallowed and held Saul’s eyes in a prolonged stare. “Do it for them. Do it for me.”

  Saul lifted his hand and palmed the back of his head, clearly upset. “All right, Reno. We’ll go.”

  Emory jumped up and clapped his hands. “I’ll pack my turtle. I love Miss Fancy’s cooking!”

  Reno let out a long breath of relief. “We’ll hit the trail at first light.”

  Journey

  “Good deal. This will do.” Satisfied with the workstation she’d arranged in the sunroom; Journey snapped her fingers. “Okay, dogs. Let’s adjourn to the kitchen. Are you hungry?”

  A chorus of agreeing yips filled the air. “You’re so funny.” It amused her at the number of words they seemed to recognize. Food. Hungry. Go. Treat. Surprise. Walk. “I’ve dated guys with a smaller vocabulary than you two.”

  Padding barefoot across the Mexican tile floor, she found the dry food to fill their bowls. After making sure the dogs had fresh water, she found her great-aunt’s favorite cookbook. While sitting on a barstool, she sipped a cold drink, and decided on a soup recipe. Noting the time, Journey surveyed the contents of the pantry and fridge. “No canned tomatoes? No celery? Lots of chicken. No beef.” As close as she was to her aunt, they didn’t share the same taste in everything. Making a list of the ingredients she needed for the soup and a few other items, Journey grabbed her purse and keys. If she hurried, she’d make the trip to Fredericksburg and back by dark.

  Heading for the front door, Journey couldn’t help but let the atmosphere of the house wash over her. So many memories. This was truly the only home she could remember. Very few recollections remained of the time before her parents were killed in a boating accident on Lake Travis. Aunt Myra became her guardian, caretaker, and best friend. This old stone house with its mixture of old and new was her haven. Her sanctuary. As she walked slowly from room to room, her eyes flitted from a painting on the wall depicting a huge oak surrounded by bluebonnets, then to the antique buffet with its centerpiece of dried flowers flanked by family photographs. She noticed the old hall chair with its mirror, umbrella stands, and coat hooks. Every item of furniture, every painting, every rug was a piece in the puzzle of her life. Stopping in her tracks, she closed her eyes, letting the feeling of rightness settle around her shoulders like a warm cloak.

  After a few moments, she heard the faint click of dog toenails on the tile. Knowing those two, they’d soon be begging for a road trip. “Not this time, guys. I’ll be back soon. With treats!” She promised, mentally adding some dog snacks to the list.

  Giving Dudley a goodbye wave, she flipped the lock, stepping out onto the porch. Immediately, the grape bubble gum scent of Myra’s mountain laurel bushes enveloped her. She took a deep breath, admiring the purple blooms that reminded her of wisteria. “Paradise. Some things should never change.” A contented smile teased her lips as she climbed behind the wheel, heading south toward Fredericksburg.

  As always, her heart tripped at the sight of Enchanted Rock. She’d never tire of its beauty. Or its mystery. Journey could remember many nights when she’d slept in a tent in the backyard. From her vantage point she could see the mountain and on moonlit nights – sometimes it would glow with the most mysterious light. Gold. Green. Yellow. A faint pulsing glow. And if she listened carefully, Journey could swear she could hear the big rock singing. A low whistling, like hearing a flute playing from a far distance. She drove by the majestic batholith, one eye on the road and one eye on the rock. Once past, she could take in the wildflowers. In some places they were so thick that the outlying pastures looking like a patchwork quilt of many colors.

  By the time she arrived in Fredericksburg, she was ready to get what she needed and return home. For some dumb reason, she’d forgotten to eat anything today. After tooling down the main drag where all the boutiques, trendy restaurants, and art galleries were located, she ventured west of downtown to find the stores the residents used on a daily basis. “Ah, an HEB. Familiar territory.” Pulling into the parking lot, she found an empty spot.

  The sun was sinking behind the trees as she made her way inside. Glancing at her list, she grabbed a buggy and started wheeling up and down the aisles, choosing celery, stew meat, cherries, and canned tomatoes. “Don’t forget the puppy treats.” Once she found the dog biscuits, Journey made for the check-out lane. As soon as she paid for the groceries, she opened up the bag of cherries and popped one into her mouth. “So good.” The tart red fruit was one of her weaknesses.

  Making for the double automatic doors, Journey stopped for a little old lady to steer her electric cart through the opening. When she did, a buggy hit her from behind, almost knocking her down. “Hey!” She whirled to see two rough looking men. Neither looked remorseful for bumping into her.

  “Well, what do we have here? A pretty woman all alone.”

  The leer they gave Journey made her skin crawl. She looked around, but there was no one in the parking lot but the lady on the cart and a woman with two small children. “Sorry. Excuse me.” She considered reentering the store, but that would mean passing closely by the men who were snickering behind her back. She could make out a few words – “Tight ass. Nice rack.”

  Just wanting to get away, Journey took off across the lot. As she jogged, she dug her keys from her purse and hit the button to unlock the door. Hopefully, the men who made her nervous were headed the other way.

  Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

  “Hold up, sexy. You don’t have to be in such a hurry.”

  “No, thanks. Gotta run.” She jerked open the door and threw the bags onto the back seat. When she straightened up, her way was blocked by a shopping buggy wielded by one of the greasy haired men. “Move, please.”

  “Move?” He pumped his hips in a vulgar motion. “Like that?”

  “Russ!”

  Journey and the dark-haired man bothering her both turned their heads to see the other guy coming toward them in a big black double-cab dually. “Look, I just want to leave. Okay?”

  “Where you going?”

  “Home,” she answered, not thinking. She glanced around, her breath coming in short pants.

  “Want some company?”

  “No.” She licked her lips, wishing she hadn’t parked so far from the front door. “I’m going to scream if you don’t leave me alone.”

  “Russ! Need some help?”

  “Maybe. Girl says she’s gonna scream if we don’t back-off.”

  “Come on. Let’s go.” The other man, a redhead with a goatee tapped his horn.

  “All right. All right.” Russ backed up slowly, keeping Journey’s eye. Right before he turned the cart, he made a kissy noise which brought bile into her throat.

  As soon as his back was turned, Journey grabbed the door handle, jerked it open, and dove inside. When sh
e did, her purse fell to the ground – her wallet sliding one way and her phone the other. Making a desperate attempt to gather her things, she managed to find the wallet – but her cell was nowhere to be seen. She was about to go to her knees when she heard the roar of an engine. “Oh, God. There they come.” Climbing in, she scrambled to press the start button, frantic to leave. Applying the brake, she put the car in reverse and a sickening crunch told her the fate of the phone.

  Glancing in the rearview mirror, she saw no sight of the black truck. But when she began to back up, the big truck came skidding up behind her. Before she could stop, she collided with the truck’s front fender. With a gasping scream, she slammed the car into the forward gear, but the black vehicle swerved around to block her escape.

  Journey felt like she was living a nightmare. Why were they doing this to her? Was this some sort of sick game? In desperation, she searched the parking lot. She needed help. Couldn’t anyone see this? Three or four rows over, she could see a red SUV easing down the aisle. Keeping an eye on this new vehicle, she backed up again – only to have the black pickup circle around to block her once more. Journey felt like a mouse being teased by a hungry cat.

  When she looked to check on the SUV, Journey was relieved to see a bearded man in a plaid flannel sauntering toward the entrance. Desperate, she hit the window button and screamed as loudly as she could. “Help!”’

  To her amazement, her cry of alarm caused the lumberjack man to start running to her aid. “Yes, help me. Please!”

  With a squeal of tires, the black truck took off and to her horror, they drove straight at her rescuer and clipped him with the front bumper, knocking him hard to the ground. “Oh, no!” she screamed. Stunned, she watched the dually truck tear out of the parking lot. Journey was glad to see them go, but she couldn’t leave the man who’d tried to help her behind. Pulling up next to him, she exited the vehicle. Without a phone to call, all she could do was begin to yell for help. “Somebody, call 9-1-1!”