Esther

by Jim Cox

  “Major Engle has been cooperative with me, but nothing firm has turned up. His name was not on the death list of the exploded boat. We also know he isn’t piloting a steamer for the Union any longer, but that’s all we know at this point. The major is still searching for him.”

  “How about your son, Esther? Have you heard anything from him?” Esther shook her head, and Virginia marveled at how her friend managed to keep her worries at bay with so many uncertainties surrounding the ones she loved.

  Even though the civil war had started in April of ʼ61, fighting had not reached the Oklahoma Territory until November 19, 1861 when the combined force of the Creek and Seminole Indians, under the direction of the Union Army, fought the Confederates in the Battle of Round Mountain, only a two days’ ride from Fort Gibson. Three weeks later the same forces fought again in the Battle of Chusto-Talasah. Only a short distance away from Fort Gibson. The last scrimmage between the Indian forces and the Confederate army occurred in the Battle of Chustenahlah the day after Christmas in 1861. After these three battles, Civil War fighting ceased in Oklahoma for nearly a year.

  By this time, the Fort Gibson army had cleared the countryside of renegade Indians, and after the first of the year, ranchers started returning home. Mrs. Winslow, Shining Star, and Bill along with five older men they recruited returned to the Crooked Rail Ranch in February. Mrs. Winslow asked Esther and Joan to go with them, but the women declined because of Joan’s mounting relationship with Dr. Hill.

  April brought spring showers, a time to clean barns, and plant gardens. It also brought other things. One day when Joan returned from a Sunday afternoon buggy ride with Dan, she appeared depressed. “What’s wrong with you, Joan?” her mother asked. “You’re acting like you’ve lost your best friend.”

  “Dan asked me to marry him, Ma,” Joan said with tears streaming down her face. “I told him I’d give him an answer tomorrow.”

  “That’s wonderful, Sweetheart.” Esther paused as questions surfaced in her mind, “Don’t you love him, Joan? Don’t you want to be with him for the rest of your life?”

  “I love him with all my heart, Ma, but…”

  “But what, Joan?”

  “What about you, Ma? If I marry Dan, you’ll be all alone, and I don’t want that.”

  “You’re being foolish, Joan. Dan’s a wonderful man who’ll treat you good and be a good provider.” I knew this day was coming and I wouldn’t want it any other way. You have a life to live, and it’s not with me. It’s with this man who loves you and places you first in his life. He’s a man who’ll share your common dreams and will walk side-by-side with you to make them happen. He’s a man who’ll stand true to you as the years pass no matter the circumstances, and you’ll want to do the same for him.” Esther paused and took her daughter’s hand, “Am I right, Sweetheart?”

  Through sobs, Joan said, “Yes.”

  “Then tell him you’ll marry him and don’t worry about me; I’ll get along fine. And Joan, don’t wait until tomorrow; go tell him right now.”

  »»•««

  The wedding took place on a beautiful Saturday afternoon a month later. The day was perfect. White clouds floated against the blue sky as a cool breeze kept the May temperature comfortable. Buggies lined the grounds around the church. Inside many of the pews were filled with men in blue. Esther sat in the front row with Virginia and the folks who’d come from the Crooked Rail.

  Dr. Hill stood looking handsome in his formal military uniform, but no one was looking at him—all eyes were on the bride as she walked down the aisle. Joan looked beautiful. She had a white crochet scarf draped over her head and wore a white pioneer style wedding dress. Her mother had made both.

  The entire wedding day went without a hitch. The ceremony, the reception where people congratulated the newlyweds and ate from a smorgasbord of food, and at day’s end when the couple departed. Their departure was a difficult time for Esther, but also a joyful time as mother and daughter clung together with tears flowing.

  Virginia had talked Esther into going back to the Crooked Rail with Mrs. Winslow for a few days following the wedding, so her bags were packed and ready in one of the ranch buggies.

  The ride to the ranch was a time of reflection without much talking, especially for Esther. Her mind was occupied with depressing thoughts as it often was when she wasn’t fully occupied. Where was Mark? Was he laid up in a hospital or worse yet—had he been killed? Will I ever see him again or find out any of the details of his whereabouts. Esther thought about Mark’s growing up years and his relationship with his father. When John started his wayward lifestyle, it had become impossible for the boy to love his father. Could it have been my fault John became a drunk and thief? That he gambled away our money, Esther thought. Mark has turned out to be a good young man in spite of his pa’s bad influence; he works hard and has good morals—he never lies or cheats that I know of.

  Esther’s mind turned to Joan. What a wonderful wedding, she thought. Joan looked lovely. I’m happy she married a nice young man like Dan; they make a wonderful young couple. Esther thought of the quarters in the army barracks her daughter would be living in. It was small but safe and more than adequate. Through Joan and Esther’s efforts, the quarters had been decorated nicely during the past two weeks. All that’s left to do is bring Joan’s remaining clothes and personal things over. We’ll do that when she returns, Esther thought, but then her stomach tightened. I won’t be there to help when Joan gets back; I’ll be at the ranch.

  With a couple of travel hours to go, the buggies stopped to rest the horses and let the ranch folks stretch their legs. The beautiful western sky was on display with large painted clouds of various colors meeting the horizon of long stem prairie grass in the far distance. After taking a long drink from their canteens, they re-boarding and heading off. Esther’s mind immediately went to Doyle. Where was he? Is he still alive? Why hasn’t he written to me? She thought. What’ll I do if he doesn’t come back?

  Mrs. Winslow could see the faraway expression on Esther’s face, so she started a conversation to distract her friend. She began by talking about the wedding and then diverted to the goings on at the ranch. She talked about how Bill had taken charge, slowly pulling things back to a working state. Half of the stock had been rounded up and brought back to Crooked Rail land, but the balance of the herd was scattered farther away. It would take a great deal more time to gather the rest up. More wranglers were needed, but the ranch couldn’t afford the help. Mrs. Winslow remarked how Shining Star had been doing the cooking and helping Bill and the five men they’d brought from town in the drives, but it was still a slow process.

  The buggies rolled on. Finally, Esther said rather enthusiastically, “I don’t have anything to hold me in Fort Gibson anymore, Mrs. Winslow. Now that Joan is married and has moved out, I can stay at the Crooked Rail and help out.” After a long pause, Esther smiled, “I liked being a wrangler with you before, wearing our roundup clothes and proving we could do anything a man could do.” Mrs. Winslow returned her friend’s smile.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  It took a few days for Esther to work the kinks out of her system and learn the working habits of the new men, but once she did, her previous cattle experience kicked in, and she became at ease chasing cattle from brush or chasing an old mossy-horn cow who had turned back.

  Esther enjoyed the wrangler’s work and was pleased to be helping the Crooked Rail, but she and the other workers speculated what was going to happen with the ranch. They wondered if Mrs. Winslow would continue to operate the ranch on her own or if she’d sell out. Neither option seemed desirable. Even if a buyer could be found, land prices had dropped so low since the war started, the sales price probably wouldn’t pay off the mortgage. On the other hand, who would manage the ranch if she kept it? Bill was doing a good job, but he was getting older with only had a few active years left—after all, he had already retired once.

  Esther made it a point to visit Fort Gibso
n every other weekend. She stayed at the boarding house with Virginia, both to visit her friend and because Joan’s home was small and didn’t have a spare bed. However, on her visits, Esther spent most days with her daughter. Joan and Dan seemed to have settled into their husband/wife roles, were happy, and getting along fine. Joan had attended a few military functions with the wives at the fort and was becoming more active in the church with the children’s programs.

  Esther checked with Major Engle at the fort from time-to-time, hoping he might have information concerning Mark and Doyle, but so far nothing had turned up.

  The first Monday morning of July was set aside to do work around the ranch buildings before they’d be heading out on the cattle drives. They had sat down to a late breakfast Shining Star had prepared, and as plates were being pushed back, they heard horses riding up. Bill welcomed five Union soldiers and then brought them to the kitchen where they enjoyed coffee and left-over biscuits covered with butter and apple jelly. Not much talking took place while the men ate, but after they’d finished, Bill asked, “What can we do for you, gentlemen?”

  “We’re here to buy cattle to feed our troops,” the ranking soldier said. “We stopped at Fort Gibson yesterday, and Major Engle directed us to your ranch. He says you’re reliable people and will be able to honor whatever you commit to. We’re allowed to pay you ten dollars a head for two-year-olds in good condition. The money comes from the war department, so it’ll be a mite slow in getting here, but you can be assured you’ll receive it from Major Engle.”

  “How many head do you want?” Bill asked.

  “We can use up to seventy-five head every two weeks, and we’d like to have the first bunch delivered to Kansas within a week. We can even furnish men to do the driving, but we’ll need someone from your outfit to go along to guide us and teach us the procedures.”

  “We have a deal,” Bill said as he stood to shake the man’s hand. “Do you have a manifest to sign containing all of the details?” The military man nodded and promised to bring the papers when he returned in a few days with men to drive the herd.

  After the five men in blue left, all faces around the table wore smiles. Mrs. Winslow started off in an excited tone to no one in particular, “We’ve had a miracle given to us. If the Union holds up their end of the deal we made, I figure we’ll take in fifteen- hundred dollars a month. At that rate, I’ll be able to pay what’s delinquent on the mortgage and be current within seven or eight months.”

  “I’ll make arrangements for the first bunch to be on its way a week from today,” Bill said, “and if it’s okay with you, Mrs. Winslow, I’ll go along on the first trip—Esther can take charge while I’m gone.” Mrs. Winslow nodded in agreement.

  By the end of July, the hot, rainless days caused the over-grazed grass to stop growing and turn into brown stubble. The cattle moved farther and farther from the Crooked Rail ranch in search of grazing, but the drives continued.

  Four weeks after the first bunch of cattle were delivered to the Union two more bunches had followed them and even though no money had yet been received from the war department, the round-ups continued, and the seventy-five head were again delivered as agreed upon.

  »»•««

  In mid-September, Esther visited Fort Gibson. She went directly to her daughter’s house, and as she stepped through the front door, Joan met her in tears. “What’s wrong, Joan?” Esther asked, “Why are you crying?”

  “Dan is being transferred to a military hospital in Cape Girardeau, Missouri, Ma.”

  “That’s a surprise. Tell me all about it, Joan. When do you move?”

  “Dan was given the order two days ago, and he’s supposed to report to the hospital in Missouri within a week.” Joan went to her mother and threw her arms around her in tears. “I can’t stand the thought of being away from you, Ma. It might be years before I get to see you again.”

  “Let’s not think on the dark side of the situation, Joan. Think instead of all the exciting possibilities you might encounter. And don’t worry about me, sweetheart—I’ll be fine. This terrible war won’t last forever. Once the postal service is revitalized, we can stay in contact with letters, and you can always wire me if you have to get word to me before then.” Esther gently pushed her daughter back and asked, “Will the fort be without a doctor or will they get another?”

  “The new doctor is already here, Ma. His name is Dr. Leroy Potts. He has gray hair and looks old—probably in his fifties.”

  “I’m sure he’s a fine doctor, Joan, even if he has gray hair,” Esther said with a smile.

  The day passed rather quickly as mother and daughter talked away while packing the clothing and other articles of Joan’s small household. Supper was on the table when Dan came home that evening. Both women noticed his serious facial expression. “What is it, dear?” Joan asked.

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, sweetheart, but our moving schedule has been changed. We’re now re-scheduled to leave here at six o’clock in the morning by a team and wagon. I tried to delay the trip a day or two since your ma’s here, but Major Engle stayed firm and wouldn’t agree to my request. To keep us safe, five men will be escorting us on the trip which will mainly be across the Missouri Ozarks.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Esther tried to stay optimistic and look on the bright side of things as she drove back to the ranch, but it was hard to do with Joan moving out of her life. She felt lonely as if she now had no family left. She was thankful for her Crooked Rail friends she worked with daily, but they weren’t the same as family. Where was Mark? Where was Doyle? Will I ever see them again? Will I ever see Joan again? These questions were constantly on her mind.

  But, time is a great healer of life’s misfortunes. As the days became weeks, Esther’s depression lessened as she became more and more involved with the ranch operations. Mrs. Winslow’s, on the other hand, was becoming more despondent due to the loss of her husband and the day-to-day responsibilities of managing her ranch. As a result, she started depending upon Esther more and more as the months passed. Esther took over the responsibility for range rotations, hired men whenever they became available, paid the bills, and approved all capital expenditures. Esther depended on Bill’s vast knowledge of ranching, but his active role lessened as they fell into a routine and got more men aboard.

  The Crooked Rail was isolated from the war for the most part; however, the indirect effect was severe. Shutting down all civilian transportation which eliminated mail service and the shipment of cattle hurt them greatly. The unavailability of young men for cattle wrangling was staggering. The only war update they received was from the Union men who received the seventy-five head of cattle every two weeks or whenever a ranch hand made a trip to Fort Gibson for supplies.

  It was different for the folks in the active battlefield states to the east and south where the population was concentrated. Fighting was an ongoing tragedy, killing hundreds of young men weekly, and unbeknown to the sparsely populated civilians in northeast Oklahoma, it was coming their way.

  The Battle of Old Fort Wayne on October 22, 1862, was the first of three scrimmages in Oklahoma between the Union and Confederates during the Civil War. It was a one-day scrimmage just across the Arkansas line in Oklahoma that resulted in sixty-four men being killed. There had been three previous Civil War battles in Oklahoma, but they had been between the Confederates and the Indians. Two days after the Battle of Old Fort Wayne, another scrimmage broke out in Oklahoma between two Indian tribes—the Osage and Tonkawa. Some hundred-fifty warriors were killed.

  The work habits at the Crooked Rail during the fall and early winter months of 1862 were much like the summer months, except for the effects the grass had on the cattle. Fall and winter rains had brought the range back to life with thick green grass which caused the stock to have plenty to eat and be satisfied on the Crooked Rail range.

  By the end of January 1863, the season’s last drive to bring in the far-ranging cattle was over. The
wranglers knew they’d probably left several head to the unknown, but the remaining un-gathered stock was scattered over several square miles and the effort it would take to find them exceeded their worth.

  Even with the lush grass, the Crooked Rail range was overcrowded. They’d sent a thousand head of two-year-old stock to the Union which helped some, and the remaining contract of supplying a hundred head weekly would lessen the herd size by another two thousand head before the new crop of calves was born in March and April. Under those parameters, Esther thought the grazing would be manageable as long as the cattle could get enough to eat through the winter.

  Servicing newborn calves was always an exciting time for wranglers on any ranch, and the Crooked Rail was no exception. The wranglers were wound up and excited about getting prepared to start the roundups. Horses were re-shod, tack was cleaned and oiled, ropes were limbered up, branding irons were gathered, castration knives were sharpened, and the chuck wagon was stocked.

  By mid-April, they rode out to the northeast corner of the ranch, nearly five miles from the homestead, and set up their first camp. It had only been three months since they’d finished the gathering of the wandering stock, but it still took a few days and nights for the crew to become accustomed to their new camp. They were again sleeping under the stars and eating their meals around a campfire. They worked from first light until dark, branding, and castrating calves. When the calves in the surrounding area had been serviced, they moved on to a new site.

  By the first week of July, the Crooked Rail crew had serviced well over half of their calves and were camped along the southern border of the ranch. As the wranglers sat around the fire eating their supper of beef hash and cornbread, washed down with steaming black coffee, they saw a trail of dust coming their way. Words weren’t spoken, but their eyes were keenly observant as Union soldiers approached with rifles close at hand.