Oliver

by Christine Sterling

  Weston had left the week before to ride to meet Caleb, Tot, and the rest of the men on the cattle drive. It appeared the group ran into a bit of trouble and was going to be delayed at least a week getting home. He should have connected with the cattle train in Owl Canyon, Colorado by now.

  “When do you leave?” Marmee asked.

  “We’ll be leaving shortly. I’m just waiting for Owen to finish saying his goodbye to Ellie.”

  Marmee sighed. “It will be such a blessing to have a wedding here.”

  Ellie Brooks arrived in Flat River as a mail order bride for Frank Hartman. Frank was killed when he made his camp too close to a den of rattlesnakes. The Hartman family blamed Ellie for their son’s death. Ellie had nowhere to go, so Owen brought her home to the Chapman Ranch until the next stage could take her back home.

  That was three months ago.

  They were to get married as soon as Owen officially proposed. For now, they were quite content writing silly love letters and placing them in random spots around the ranch for the other to find. Oliver was secretly jealous of the letters Owen received. His brother would find one and then disappear for a bit to read it. When he finally returned to the paddock, he would have a goofy grin on his face and be in a much better mood.

  Since Ellie arrived, everyone was in a better mood. Everyone but Alice.

  Alice had been kidnapped the previous year and although she was recovering, she still displayed the effects of whatever happened when she was in San Francisco. It took several weeks to get her back home, and many months to recover from the opium addiction. Now she had nightmares and didn’t like large gatherings. She spent most of her time in her room, or on the front porch swing writing in her journals or reading.

  Oliver helped his mother gather up the few apples that had fallen from the tree. Marmee held out her apron and Oliver dropped the apples in the cloth. “Where’s your basket?” he asked. Marmee kept a basket next to the gate so she could gather apples whenever the mood struck her.

  “Gone as well.”

  “What’s going on?” a voice called. Oliver turned to see Owen coming towards them. He had a knapsack over one shoulder and a rifle over the other.

  “Did you get a letter?”

  Owen patted his jacket pocket. “Right here. Figure I’ll save this one for the campfire tonight.”

  Oliver laughed. “I was just helping Marmee gather apples.”

  Owen walked down the path, looking at the vegetables that had been dug up. “What happened here?”

  “Appears someone was hungry and took a liking to Marmee’s garden.”

  Owen scratched his chin. “Should we be worried?”

  Marmee gathered the corners of her apron in one hand. “Not at all,” she replied. “The footprint isn’t much larger than a child’s, so you go. Find your horse and return home safely. I won’t rest until all my men are back home.”

  Oliver kissed his mother on the cheek. Owen did the same, but he pilfered an apple from her apron.

  “We should be back in two days,” Oliver said, opening the gate that led through the orchard down to the barn and riding paddocks below.

  He headed towards the barn, looking down to follow the footprints in the dirt. It was easy to make out the thief’s prints. They were the only ones without shoes. He followed the prints down past the pen where Cocoa, one of the ranch’s bulls, was kept. They appeared to go to where the creek and river met on the far side of the pasture.

  “What do you see, brother?” Owen asked, munching the apple he snatched.

  Oliver just shook his head. “Not sure. The tracks appear to go towards the water. Nothing down there but that old hunting shack.”

  “Maybe we should take a look on our way out.”

  “I agree. I don’t feel too comfortable with anyone lurking around.” Oliver scratched his chin.

  Owen took another bite from his apple. “Did you hear that the Bergmans had a dozen head stolen?”

  Oliver’s eyebrows shot up. “When did this happen?”

  “I was in town yesterday to pick up some more nails and I overheard Briggs mention it.”

  “And you didn’t say anything at supper?”

  “I didn’t want to worry Marmee or Alice with Pa and Caleb being away. I didn’t think it needed to be mentioned and upset everyone. Everett knows, so he’ll keep an eye on everything.” Owen pointed at Oliver with the apple. “And I heard someone was shot at Miss Marcy’s.”

  “I hope you didn’t go there. Marmee would tan your hide. She wouldn’t care that you are a grown man.”

  Owen laughed. “I didn’t go anywhere near there. I was simply talking to Briggs.” Orrin Briggs was the town marshal. He had a large territory he was responsible for but considered Flat River his point of operation.

  “I think you were too busy with Ellie and just forgot to mention anything about anything.” Oliver made kissing sounds to his brother.

  At the mention of Ellie, Owen broke into a grin. “Yeah, I was kind of busy with her last night.”

  Oliver slapped Owen on the back as they headed towards the barn and the horses. “Any chance Ellie will be my sister-in-law soon?”

  Owen didn’t say anything until they reached the paddock. A gray mare walked over to greet them. She was called Splinter because she had white hair hidden between the grays. Alice said they were just like splinters that would get under your skin.

  Owen offered Splinter the rest of the apple and then scratched the animal’s head. “I proposed last night.”

  “And you didn’t think to mention that at breakfast this morning? You are forgetting quite a few things, brother.” Oliver let the news sink in and laughed. “Marmee is going to be thrilled that at least one of us is settling down. I wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t start asking about grandbabies.”

  Owen lifted his hands in mock surrender. “That is exactly why we’ve not said anything.”

  “I don’t blame you.” Oliver looked over the paddock towards the water. “Thank goodness it is you. Not me. I have no intention of settling down with any woman.”

  “Why not. It isn’t bad if you find the right person.”

  Oliver shrugged. “I like my life. I come and go as I please. I don’t have to cook. I get to play with the horses. I have more money than I know what do with it. Why would I disrupt that?”

  Owen stood on the bottom rail. “You are a grown man. You should be married with a passel of kids. Sons to carry on the line. Instead, you are still living with your Ma and Pa and no prospects in sight.”

  “Well, when you put it that way…”

  “Ellie told me Polly is coming to visit soon.”

  “Polly?” Oliver recognized the name but didn’t know where.

  “Her friend from Atlanta. I think Ellie is hoping to make a match for her friend out here.”

  “You thinkin’ of building a house soon?” The thought of not seeing his brother every day sobered him. Not only were they twins, but they were also best friends.

  “At some point, but not right now.”

  Oliver glanced over his shoulder at the house. “Perhaps I should think about building a house. Especially if that house is going to fill up with women looking for husbands.”

  Owen laughed and jumped off the rail. “Brother, someday someone is going to kick your feet out from underneath you. I hope I’m around to see it happen.” He looked at the sky and then back to Oliver. “Daylight’s burning. We should get on the trail.”

  “Not anytime soon,” Oliver replied and followed Owen towards the barn.

  Rich, one of the ranch hands, was checking the cinches on Winchester, Owen’s horse. A cigarette was hanging from the corner of his mouth as he talked softly to the horse. Rich must have heard them approach as he looked up and waved his hand in greeting.

  “Almost ready to head out?” he asked.

  “Yep.” Oliver looked at Rich. He was a young hand, probably no more than twenty. He was a handsome young man, with reddish hair and fre
ckles across his cheeks. “Did you learn that from Smokes?” he asked, pointing to the cigarette.

  “’T’ain’t nothing, boss.”

  “I don’t care if you are on the trail or in the pasture, just don’t smoke in the barn. I don’t want to see this go up in flames.” Oliver waved his hand around the barn.

  Rich nodded and extinguished the cigarette on his boot heel. He put the crushed tobacco in his pocket. “Sure thing, boss. Where are you headed?”

  “Not sure yet. We are going to head towards Mustang Hill and then out towards Cupid’s Bluff.”

  “Ain’t that out by Last Chance?”

  “Yes.”

  “I got a cousin out that way. Why so far?”

  “We heard there were sightings of another herd out that way. Hopefully, we can get a look at them.” Oliver looked around the barn. “Where’s Smokes?”

  “He had to go to the other barn. Said he’d be right back. Whiskey is all ready to go, Boss.” Rich pointed to Oliver’s horse waiting patiently in its stall. Rich patted Winchester on the rump. “And this boy is now ready,” he said to Owen.

  “Thanks,” Oliver said, taking Whiskey’s reins and leading the horse to the outside.

  His bedroll and bag were already in place, but he checked everything over just in case. Running his fingers between the stiff leather and the horse, he made sure it wasn’t too tight. Rich was still learning. Smokes was teaching the greenhorn how to take care of the horses and cattle.

  Rich was a quick learner, but Oliver always double-checked if anyone else saddled his horse. He wanted to make sure nothing would risk harm to Whiskey, or himself while riding.

  While Oliver tended to Whiskey, Owen brought his horse outside and did the same thing. When they were done and satisfied that everything was secure, they mounted their horses and headed towards the creek.

  “Oliver! Owen!” a voice called.

  Oliver turned his horse to see Alice coming through the garden gate and running towards the barn. She called again.

  “It’s Alice. Did you forget anything?” he asked his brother.

  “Not that I can think of.”

  “I’ll find out what she wants.” He tapped Whiskey on the side and the horse started towards the house. They met Alice halfway. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was out of breath from running so quickly. “What’s going on, Pint Jar?”

  Oliver named her Pint Jar, as she was the tiniest baby they had ever seen. No bigger than one of the jars Marmee used to can her famous jam. The nickname stuck.

  “Are you going after the Black?” The Black was a wild mustang that had eluded capture for years.

  Oliver nodded. “We are going to see if we can find where the herd is. Once we do that, we’ll assemble the riders to do another roundup.”

  “Okay,” Alice said softly.

  Oliver leaned down and cupped his sister’s chin so she would look at him. “What is it, Pint Jar?”

  “He’s been wild all this time, I don’t think he would survive being captured.”

  Oliver released his sister. “We’ll see. There is a large reward for him. He’s a magnificent creature.”

  “Just promise me you won’t hurt him.”

  “That, I can promise. Now, can you make me a promise?”

  “Depends.” Oliver watched her trace the ground with the point of her shoe. “What is it?”

  “Promise me that you’ll watch over Marmee and Ellie while we are gone?”

  “What about Everett?”

  “He’ll be helping with the cattle.”

  “What about the horses?”

  “Rich will handle everything for us. Since we sold the rest of the herd, there are only the ranch horses to take care of.”

  Alice nodded. “Alright then. Just come back soon.” Oliver ruffled Alice’s hair. She lifted her arm to ward off the affectionate gesture. “Stop that, I’m not a little girl.”

  Oliver laughed. “You’ll always be a little girl to me, Pint Jar.”

  He watched Alice walk back to the house before he whistled to his horse and they continued their walk to the river. Oliver watched the ground as they approached the river.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Just checking to see if I can tell which direction the footprints go.”

  “Let’s check the trapping cabin and then we can loop around to Mustang Hill.”

  They rode in silence until they reached a small cabin set back from the river in a small clearing.

  The cabin was more of a lean-to. A simple structure to provide shelter from the elements.

  Oliver rode to the door and dismounted Whiskey. He took a quick look around but didn’t see anyone. “Hello?” he called. He was met with silence.

  Pulling his gun from the holster he went to the window to peer in. “Hello?”

  “Look here,” Owen called.

  “What is it?” Owen pointed to the ground. There was a cluster of bare footprints in the dirt. “That’s about the same size as the ones in Marmee’s garden.”

  “Well, then we know someone was here.”

  Oliver went to the door and knocked. “Anyone here?”

  He pushed the door open with the barrel of the gun.

  The cabin was bare apart from a wooden table, a chair, a small cot, and a lamp. The lamp was on the table along with some matches and Marmee’s missing basket. The basket was covered with a small handkerchief edged in lace.

  He picked up a corner and the scent of liniment and roses assailed his nostrils.

  What an odd combination, he thought.

  He peered inside the basket to find carrots, a few beets, and some apples. Returning the handkerchief to the basket, he walked out to see his brother. “Looks like someone is staying here. I found Marmee’s basket and the items missing from the garden.”

  “We should probably stay to see if they come back.”

  Owen went inside the cabin while Oliver went to hide the horses in the trees. No point in announcing their presence. When he returned, Owen was standing on the porch eating an apple.

  Oliver was about to say something when he heard a feminine voice singing. He held up his hand and listened intently. The singing appeared to be coming from the river and up the bank. He signaled to Owen, who disappeared inside the house, silently shutting the door behind him.

  Oliver cocked his pistol and moved to the side of the house. He had no intention of shooting a lady, but he didn’t know what kind of company she may be keeping.

  It didn’t take long before a woman entered the clearing. She must have just bathed, as she was dressed in her undergarments and her hair was wet. A dress was draped over her arm. Oliver quickly averted his eyes so he wouldn’t see the fabric clinging to her wet skin.

  He lifted his eyes once more and concentrated on the woman’s face. She was certainly attractive, and certainly not from around Flat River. Anyone with a lick of sense would know not to draw attention to themselves in the woods. She appeared to be alone.

  The woman’s dark hair gave her a mysterious appearance. Oliver couldn’t see her eyes, but he knew they would be just as dark. Her lips were plump and the color of the rouge his sisters used to make their lips appear bigger. Oliver knew she wasn’t wearing rouge. Her skin was pale and marred with faded bruises.

  She was simply breathtaking.

  And barefoot.

  Oliver took a step backward and a twig snapped underneath his boot. Grimacing, he gave a little groan and peeked around the corner of the building again.

  The woman had stopped singing and was looking around the clearing. Oliver recognized that look in her deep dark eyes.

  Fear.

  She continued her scan of the clearing and her eyes fell on Oliver.

  She let out the loudest shriek he had ever heard. Dropping her dress, she turned and ran towards the river.

  Oliver yelled for his brother as he holstered his pistol and took off after the woman.

  Chapter Four

  The branches scra
ped Willow’s arms as she ran down the embankment.

  Her heart pounded in her ears and her lungs screamed from lack of air.

  She wasn’t sure where she was going, she just knew she had to get away from the man running after her.

  Her feet were on fire from being barefoot. They were cut up from the rocks. She hoped to stay at the cabin for a few more days to let her feet heal before continuing her trek down the river.

  The sheriff must have realized that she was the one to kill Mr. Blackman and he sent these men to bring her back to town. She didn’t want to hang.

  Tears started to burn in her eyes, making escaping much more difficult.

  She let out a cry as briars caught against her legs, ripping her underdrawers. Ignoring the fire radiating from the scratches, she kept running.

  It was such a blessing when she found the small shack. It was far enough in the brush that no one would have noticed it unless they knew it was there.

  She made it into as much of a home as she could, sweeping the floor with branches and burning leaves in the small fireplace to get rid of the damp and dusty smell. She stayed inside the cabin not venturing out for two days. Then she snuck back out to go get water from the river.

  She did that for two more days, venturing a little further from the shack.

  It was on her fourth day that she spied the black horse again.

  Such a majestic creature!

  She knew the horse was responsible for leading her to the cabin. It was as if the beast knew she needed assistance.

  The horse also led her back to the farm she had seen when she first escaped from Mr. Blackman.

  She observed the ranch from the bushes along the river for a full day, to see the comings and goings of the men and women working the farm. They appeared to be a rather large family and Willow was jealous to watch the affection between the men and women. Even the men working in the pastures seemed to be good-natured, laughing with each other as they went about their business.

  As she watched the main house, she gathered what leaves, nuts, and berries she could find, stuffing them into her pockets for dinner.