Salmon River Kid

by Joseph Dorris

  Williams tapped his cigar. “I appreciate the news, son. I committed to seeing a couple of gentlemen up at Florence. I didn’t plan on going to Warren’s. That’s at the end of the world, if you get my meaning. That adds a steep cost to everything, but who knows? Maybe I’ll pay a visit.”

  “Visit Warren’s first,” Samuel said again. “It’s a good trail along the Salmon all the way to the trail up to Warren’s. On the way out, you can cross the Salmon and go directly into Florence. Either way, it’s about the same distance.”

  “You’re a convincing young man,” Williams replied. “I’ll see. I’ll see.”

  Samuel felt a glimmer of hope. He had done his best. He talked to other merchants and posted information about the O’Riley. He could not help but see other “for sale” notices.

  He led Spooky out into the field north of town and picketed him where he could get good grass and water. He set out his gear nearby. Others had pitched camps in the same area, and those present greeted him. After checking for rattlesnakes, Samuel unrolled his bedroll. The day had been scorching hot, well over a hundred degrees. Someone had said the firecrackers wouldn’t need help being lit.

  Samuel wanted to be near town within walking distance of the river. Ralph Clark had told him General Wood had a detail for firing the cannon and launching rockets at midnight. The sun had set and the air was finally cooling. He lay down, meaning to rest just a few minutes. The booming of the cannon awakened him. Samuel hurried toward the river, seeing the flash from the muzzle, belching fire out over the river. He cringed at the reverberating explosion.

  Throngs of people gathered along the flat with their colored lanterns winking where they had gathered in groups, sitting out on blankets, some with small children. Samuel glanced around for the Strombacks, anxious, but a little nervous, to see Bonnie. What would he say to her?

  “Hey, Samuel. Here you be at Slate Creek,” Jon Stromback called from behind him.

  Samuel turned, seeing the children coming running and Bonnie and Mrs. Stromback farther behind. His heart quickened. Josef reached him and gave him a hug. He ruffled the boy’s hair.

  “Good evening, sir.” They shook hands. He waved to Bonnie and Mrs. Stromback.

  “Oh, Bonnie,” Mrs. Stromback exclaimed, pointing. “It’s Samuel.” She waved.

  Samuel grinned and greeted them.

  “Hello,” Bonnie said cheerily but then quieted and frowned. The good feeling Samuel had suddenly died.

  “Samuel, what a nice surprise,” Mrs. Stromback bubbled, reaching him. “Is your father with you?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “It is so wonderful to see you. We thought you and your pa had packed up and gone back to Iowa.”

  “We’re still fixing to, but we’re still trying to sell the mine.”

  “When’d you get here?” Stromback asked.

  “Late afternoon,” Samuel answered. “I had some business to attend to; otherwise, I was figuring on coming out to see you.”

  “You should stay the night with us,” Mrs. Stromback offered. “After the rockets, you just come on out.”

  “Thank you. I don’t wish to impose.” Samuel began to feel funny.

  “Oh, posh. You’re practically one of the family,” she said. “And then you come with us tomorrow for all the doin’s. Josef asks about you almost every day.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Josef tugged at Samuel’s hand. “We’ll do some ropin’ tomorrow. You should see me and Ol’ Blue ropin’.”

  “You betcha,” Samuel said, but he wanted to talk to Bonnie. He wondered if she had been asking about him. Why should she? I told her I was leaving.

  Samuel excused himself and made his way toward her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t send word, Bonnie. It just came up a couple of days ago that I could come. But I was aimin’ to see you before we left Warren’s no matter.”

  Samuel saw the disappointment in Bonnie’s face. She had yet to say anything more than hello.

  The Strombacks moved the children to a spot where they had thrown the blanket where they could watch. The cannon boomed again. They shrieked with joy and covered their ears. White smoke drifted across the river.

  One of the men manning the cannon barked orders as it was loaded and fired. The explosion shattered the night, sparks skittering across the ground. A flame erupted from the barrel, a long tongue reaching into the darkness, its orange-and-yellow light reflecting off the river. The momentary flash lit up the faces of the nearby people and then faded. They clapped and cheered as the white smoke enveloped them.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this, Bonnie.” He peered at her for some response.

  “You said you were leaving,” Bonnie whispered. “I didn’t expect to ever see you again.”

  “I said I’d be by to say farewell.”

  “You also said you would be leaving by June. It’s July.” She bit her lip.

  “What’s wrong, Bonnie?” Samuel whispered.

  “Oh, Samuel, I agreed to see Rex.”

  “Rex!” Samuel hissed his name. “That no-good fencepost!” He felt like he had been kicked in the belly.

  “He was here, Samuel,” she hissed back. “You were gone.” Her eyes flashed, but Samuel could also see some pain.

  “Should I go?”

  “No!” Bonnie exclaimed. “The Strombacks invited you out to the ranch. You worked for them. They would be offended if you left now.”

  “What about Rex?” He lowered his voice.

  “He’s off with friends somewhere,” she said and then offered somewhat bleakly, “probably at a saloon.”

  Samuel shrugged it off. “I mean, you’re courting him. Do you really have feelings for him?”

  “Maybe.” Bonnie covered her face. “I-I don’t know, Samuel. You weren’t here.”

  Samuel saw Mrs. Stromback turn around.

  “Bonnie says it’s going to be really hot tomorrow.”

  A curious look came over Mrs. Stromback. “That it is,” she replied, frowning and then turning back around.

  The cannon boomed again.

  “I’m sorry, Bonnie,” Samuel whispered. He began to touch her shoulder but then rapidly withdrew his hand. He was thinking dark thoughts about Rex bragging about doing things. To blazes. She’s right. I’m leaving. But Rex? Samuel felt sick. He wished he had not agreed to stay at the Strombacks’.

  Bonnie nodded her head, her attention now on the rocket crew. Samuel could see more in her eyes than what she said, even in the dark.

  “Is it official courtin’?” he asked.

  “Might as well be … the Strombacks know. They are insisting our behavior be proper.”

  Samuel felt sick all over again. Anybody but Rex.

  A loud whoosh startled him. With sparks flying and dancing, a rocket raced upward until it disappeared into the night, its trail of luminescent red-and-orange flame reflecting in the still waters of the Salmon. White smoke enveloped the cheering people. Samuel wanted to enjoy the sight, but he could not. He felt like catching Spooky and heading for home.

  They watched for a while until the children began to nod off. Kerstin and Sophia had curled up with Bonnie. Even spunky Josef had slowed down, but he stubbornly kept his eyes fixed on each rocket, showers of sparks reflecting in them.

  Samuel no longer watched the rockets. He watched Bonnie’s eyes. Despite what she had said, Samuel knew she cared for him. It would be a very long day tomorrow. He resolved to pretend things were as they had been, at least while Rex was not in sight.

  “Here you be, we should get the children home,” Stromback finally said. They had fallen asleep. “Sure they’ll be launching these rockets and celebrating until daylight.”

  Samuel rose, nudging Josef to get up. He helped by carrying Sophia while Stromback carried Kerstin. They loaded the children into the wagon, and Sam
uel threw in his gear. He brought up Spooky, tied him to the back, and climbed up with Bonnie. He wanted badly to hold her but did not dare. The Strombacks rode up front.

  Chapter 31

  THE NEXT THING SAMUEL KNEW, Josef was bouncing on him to get him moving. “Come on, slowpoke. We got some ropin’ to do.”

  Samuel lurched up. “We got some breakfast to do first.” He could smell the bacon. He remembered Bonnie and Rex, and the ache returned. Maybe this was just as well. Now there would be no reason to return to Idaho Territory.

  Josef insisted on sitting next to Samuel. He wondered what had gotten into the boy to make him want his attention so. In a way, Samuel was glad for it.

  “Excellent breakfast, Mrs. Stromback.”

  “Better thank Bonnie—she’s doing most of the cooking.”

  “Great breakfast, Bonnie,” he said sincerely.

  She smiled and curtsied. “Why, thank you.”

  Is she putting it on? Samuel wondered.

  About ten, after roping with Josef and sparring with Roundup until he was sore, Samuel helped Mrs. Stromback and Bonnie load up the food for the afternoon picnic. They rode back into town in the wagon. Already the Independence Day procession was gathered in front of the hotel. It was a wild assortment. Led proudly by the Florence Brass Band, it wandered through the brightly decorated streets, banging, clanging, and dancing as it wound around the livery and blacksmith at the far end of town and returned to the hotel. Rex and Art rode Jon Stromback’s appaloosas, both decorated with red, white, and blue crepe. Samuel cringed when they rode past, catching the threat in Rex’s eyes. Bonnie waved and hollered more vigorously when Rex turned their direction.

  At the grandstand, the Reverend Nathan Earl opened with a prayer, thanking the Lord for the abundance from the land and for the country’s freedom. A couple of songs were acted out and sung. Samuel recognized Washington’s quartet club. The Honorable Alex McDonald read the Declaration of Independence. Samuel listened. He had studied it in school, of course, but it sounded great.

  “Why didn’t King George III just give us representation?” he whispered to Bonnie. “He could have saved the colonies, and a lot of good people wouldn’t have died.” Bonnie shushed him. He found himself thinking about his father fighting against the South. A lot of good men died there as well, he told himself. A lot more will go on dying, keeping our country free. People clapped when McDonald finished, nodding to each other.

  Professor Noggle stood up, and people began clapping before he even began speaking. Samuel wondered why until he launched into a fiery speech about the country and its independence, its strength, and the opportunities it held for all its citizens. Samuel was immediately caught up in his words and found himself thinking about his own journey west, to mine, to ranch, to homestead—to do what he wished. He also thought of the Chinese. They had come here from a war-torn and impoverished country to get a chance to help their families as well. Noggle’s speech warmed him. Truly, he did live in a great country—one that would soon be a hundred years old.

  The picnic meal was unbelievable. The women had all prepared their best dishes and laid them out on several tables. Everything that could be grown and that was in season was somewhere on a table—new potatoes, new beets, radishes, lettuce, peas, beans. The meat dishes consisted of mutton, venison, elk, and beef. Bonnie had helped Mrs. Stromback prepare a dish of sliced beef in a rich gravy sauce flavored with salt and pepper. Someone had prepared some salmon and trout. There were also biscuits and breads of all types and pies made from berries, apples, and rhubarb. And to wash it down, there was fresh buttermilk and lemonade, kept icy cold with blocks of ice kept over from the winter.

  Shortly, some men poured whiskey and began making toasts. Samuel was offered a glass, but he thought it prudent to decline, especially in front of Mrs. Stromback and Bonnie. However, the presence of women did not slow anyone else. They toasted the town, they toasted the county, and they toasted Idaho Territory. Then they toasted each other: they toasted General Wood, especially because his cannon crew got through the night without an accident; they toasted the Honorable Judge McDonald; and they toasted Professor Noggle. Soon, everyone had toasted everyone, and everyone began toasting everyone all over again.

  The whiskey, mixed with the heat of the day, quickly took its toll. Fewer toasters remained standing as more and more drifted off toward the shade of the cottonwoods.

  The ladies gathered up the dishes and packed up the remaining food. Samuel insisted on helping. Something was telling him not to give up on Bonnie, and this was a small way to stay near her. He wondered what had happened to Rex. He had not seen him since the earlier procession. Maybe Rex was off smoldering because of his presence.

  The men who were still standing, politely allowed the women to do their work. Eventually, they joined their companions under the trees, where they smoked and told lies, the latter arrivals having the good fortune of being able to outdo their predecessors. Samuel overheard some recounting their days during the Southern Uprising. Others turned the topic to the Indian depredations and then to the problems with the Chinese. Soon joined by the ladies, most dozed off in the shade of the cottonwoods.

  Samuel first tried his best to help Mrs. Stromback but also found himself nodding off. Fortunately, Jon Stromback and Bonnie had gathered the children under the trees out of the sun. The parents were more than pleased when a few of the adults took the children to participate in gunnysack races and finish off the watermelons someone had brought in.

  It wasn’t until evening when a breeze kicked up that people again began to stir—the children first, beginning to run and play, Josef wanting Samuel to practice roping.

  The cannon signaled the start of fireworks down near the river. Samuel scrambled up to see. The launching team angled them to rise over the river, and in an orange trail of sparks, they raced up over the reflecting waters and burst into brilliant colors of red, yellow, white, and green to the gasps and cheers of the gathered crowd. The exploding fragments trailed white tendrils earthward, and clouds of pungent smoke drifted across the bench.

  “I hear they brought these things all the way from Chicago,” Stromback commented.

  “Far better than exploding black powder,” Samuel admitted. “Certainly nothing like this back in Iowa.”

  “Sure must admit, Slate Creek folks know how to celebrate.”

  Samuel thought that all of Idaho Territory now knew about the Slate Creek celebration.

  “We’re going to run the children home, Samuel,” Stromback addressed him. “I’m guessing you and Bonnie will be at the dance. I’ll be back later.”

  Samuel was confused. “I-I thought Bonnie … Rex.”

  “Oh, hell, that Rex, he still don’t know what he’s doin’,” Stromback said. “I thought he was comin’ around some, but then he up and disappears for the whole day. Probably out drinking. I saw he got started pretty early today.”

  Samuel thought the comment strange. He had kept a close watch for Rex. He was trying his best not to get between him and Bonnie.

  “Maybe we should all just take it in. I’ve had a day of it as well.”

  “Hell, Samuel,” Stromback swore again. Samuel realized Stromback had also had a few drinks. “That niece of mine has sure had her heart set on that dance for weeks. She’s at that age if’n you didn’t notice, but I reckon you did. Be just about the first time for her. I’m not that old, but I figured that’s why she was wanting to look past all the rough spots Rex has to offer so she could attend.”

  Samuel’s heart skipped. He felt a fool. That explained her putting up with Rex.

  “She was sorer’n a stuck pig because she hadn’t seen you, and she was ’spectin’ to. ’Course she didn’t tell me all that direct-like.”

  Samuel took Bonnie to the dance. “We can just sit if you like. I’ll let the other men ask you to dance,” he said.

  She
shot him a hurt look but, despite Samuel’s hope, did not ask him for a dance.

  The Woods had done as before for church services. They hauled away the tables and set up chairs around the perimeter. The orchestra, so to speak—a few violins and a banjo—took over one of the corners. Samuel recognized Charlie Bemis and a couple of other men who played at Washington for the stag dances. They were remarkably good musicians.

  Older men immediately took the opportunity to dance with Bonnie, each staring in obvious disbelief at Samuel before doing so. He heard one mutter to his friend, “Someone ought to take that young’un out and explain the facts of life to him.” Samuel’s ears burned.

  That’s it, he thought. “Bonnie, I’d like this dance.” He looked at her sternly and took her hands. They moved out onto the floor. The feeling he had for Bonnie was wonderful and miserable. Twice he stepped on her, vaguely reminding himself he should have paid more attention when his grandma had tried to teach him to waltz. He pulled her close as the dance ended. The people clapping around him were encouraging Bonnie and him—Samuel knew it. He led her back to her seat.

  “It’s Rex,” Bonnie hissed.

  Samuel’s heart skidded. He knew Rex had seen them on the floor.

  Rex pushed his way directly through the crowd until he stood inches away, face red, huffing.

  Cursing, he lifted Bonnie to her feet. “Don’t even think it, boy,” he hissed. “I watched you all day. This is my girl. Everyone here knows it.”

  He was speaking rather loudly, words slurred. Men had stopped and were probably wondering if they would have to stop a fight.

  “I know,” Samuel said quietly. “Bonnie told me. Congratulations.”

  Eyes bulging, neck straining, Rex suddenly relaxed. He sputtered, apparently not knowing how to reply to Samuel’s comment.

  “What the hell you touching her for, then?”

  “Your employer has returned home. He asked me to accompany Bonnie to this dance. Mr. Stromback had not heard from you and asks for you to accept his apologies.”

  Rex’s face grew redder. “Don’t take me for a fool, boy,” he hissed.