The Drifter's Promise

by Rita Hestand

  Wes pondered too about his past. Why had he spent so much time grieving over something he couldn’t change?

  The young girl he thought he loved was just a passing fancy. He'd never kissed her or courted her. He just went to the same dance with her twice, that was all. His Uncle had been there for him when he needed him most and he thanked God for that, but he hadn't taken into consideration that his Uncle was aging. He was doing work that young men did, and the tree falling was nothing more than an accident.

  It was clear to Wes that if he wanted any kind of life, he needed to start planning it out. Him and his Uncle had chased the mustangs long ago and Wes had enjoyed it. He could do it again. He was good with animals like Dickens had said, and his plan was a good one.

  But the one thing he wondered was if Kate would wait for him. He hadn't asked it of her. It wouldn't be right to ask such a thing of her. So when he went back, he'd know if she was the right lady for sure. If she were, she would wait. He knew one thing for sure, if that kiss affected her half as much as it did him, she'd wait. Because it was a kiss of love. A promise.

  He sighed, fixed himself some coffee and warmed some cold beans up. He fed and watered his horse and

  Lucky, and then he made his bed as darkness began to surround him. Lucky came over, and laid down beside his bed, and closed his eyes.

  Finally a week later, Wes found some tracks and felt he might be onto the herd. The tracks were heavy as though they were running.

  It would be hard work mustering all those horses and getting them down the hill and through the forest, but he was determined to do it. Before he bedded down, he got his whip out and examined it, to make sure it was in good shape. The whip was a necessary tool to keeping the horses in line and respecting his authority. He wouldn't use it on them, only to scare them into obeying his commands instead of the wild stallion who was leading them.

  Satisfied that he was ready to deal with the mustangs he went to sleep and dreamed of going home to Kate.

  But tracking the horses wasn't easy. Even with Lucky helping him. They moved all the time and he realized he'd have to be patient to get to them.

  He made up his mind not to get into a hurry.

  But he'd been here a month and still hadn't found them when suddenly he heard them, and he mounted up and waited to figure which direction they were headed.

  He caught sight of them, and he took off. Lucky was running and barking beside him.

  ***

  Meanwhile winter had settled in at Kate's place and her and Dickens took turns with the chores.

  "Come early spring, you ought to buy you some hogs." Kate told him.

  "Yeah, I been thinking about that. But I got another chore to take care of now."

  "Oh, what's that?"

  "I gotta make the corral a lot bigger. You think you could help me out some?" Dickens asked her.

  "A bigger corral, for what?" Kate asked.

  "Well, I wasn't supposed to tell you I guess, but Wes is going after mustangs." Dickens said quietly, waiting to see how she'd react to that news.

  "Mustangs?" she turned her head and gave Dickens a look.

  "Y-you mean he intends to bring them here?" She shrieked.

  "That's his plan, yeah!" Dickens smiled.

  "Why didn't he tell me?"

  Dickens folded his lips and frowned. "Well, I guess it's time to tell you everything."

  "Yes, I think that would be a good idea." Kate nodded.

  She sat down at the kitchen table and rubbed Moby's tummy for him as she listened to Dickens.

  "You woke Wes up. Someone sure needed to, and I begin to think it wouldn't happen. I don't know when or how, but now he's got the idea that it's time he did something with his life, aside from drift. He's very fond of you Kate. But he can't act on his feelings until he proves his worth… "

  "His worth… my God Dickens, he saved me from losing this place, that proves his worth." She nearly shouted.

  "Now don't get all riled, but sometimes a man has to prove things to himself first. Waking him up out of his dang stupor, he began to realize he was wasting time doing nothing. He's ready for some roots. He said he thought of us as family and he's crazy about you girl, but he's got to get this done. And I understand it, because I'm a man, and you probably don't. But when he comes back in April, you'll see a changed man."

  "He's crazy about me?" She let a smile leak onto her face.

  "But you got to be patient and let him find things out for himself." Dickens stared into her face now.

  "I love him Dickens." She admitted.

  "I know that sugar. And I think he does too."

  "Then why didn't he ask me to wait?" she blurted then blushed.

  "Because he's been a troubled young man for a long time. He lost a lot of people he loved in his young life and he had to deal with that alone. But now, you've become his fairy tale. This journey he is on now, will prove to him that he's finally a man, finally facing all the bad and is opening his life to the good. He's coming back in April, and he hopes you will be here."

  "Did he say that?"

  "Maybe not in those words, but that was what he meant." Dickens smiled.

  She turned away, "I wish he'd have told me that."

  Her voice cracked and Dickens knew she was crying.

  Dickens stood up and turned her around, to see the tears in her eyes, "He couldn't. Because if he fails, he won't be back."

  "But I don't care if he fails. I just want him to come back."

  Dickens smiled, "Of course you do. But, when a man wastes time and finally realizes it, he has things to prove to himself."

  "I understand what you are saying, but still, I wish he wouldn't have left."

  "No, he needs this time. A man doesn't come into manhood just by growing up, Kate. You made him see the need to face it all. He wants to hold his head up, be confident, and know he's a man. If he succeeds in doing this, he'll be the best man around, I can tell you that. And believe me, he'll be worth waiting for Kate!"

  "I never doubted his manhood," Kate cried.

  "Of course you didn't, neither did I. But he did. He wants to prove his own worth. He couldn't have lived here on your ranch, with my money. He's too proud. He's got to know he can make it in this world, without our help. And when he does, he'll be something to behold."

  She sat down at the table. "I don't know when I fell in love with him."

  Dickens smiled. "He does."

  "He does?"

  "Yep, the day you jumped into his arms and kissed him like there was no tomorrow."

  Kate blushed, "Oh, oh my God. I don't know what possessed me. I've never done anything like that before. He was telling me I couldn't be a saloon girl. And I had to prove it to him."

  "Well Kate, I got a feeling he wouldn't let you be a saloon girl."

  "I know, that's what he said. I asked if he'd come see me, and he said, he would, but then he would jerk me up and haul me over his shoulder and march me out of that saloon." She chuckled.

  "And he would too! Why'd you want to be a saloon girl anyway?" Dickens chuckled.

  "Well, like him I guess, I had no confidence that things would work out here at all. I was weighing my prospects of what I could do."

  "A saloon girl, huh?" Dickens shook his head.

  "I wouldn't make a very good one, I can tell you that now." She chuckled.

  "Why do you say that?" Dickens frowned.

  "Well, on my wedding night, Jim sort of got rough with me. He tore my clothes and well, he wasn't gentle. And I'm sure men coming into a saloon wouldn’t be either. I only had relations with Jim once, that was enough for me."

  Dickens frowned. "I figured he was that type."

  "When Wes came along, it was different."

  "How so?"

  "Wes was gentle. I mean, we never did anything, don't get me wrong. But he did kiss me a time or two and that was so different from Jim. He was tender, gentle and I wanted more with him. Strange isn't it?" Kate shook her head.

>   "Not at all. Jim treated you like a whore, and he was your husband. Wes treated you like the lady you are, and a woman can't resist a man like that."

  "That's true."

  "You ever been in love, Dickens?" Kate asked staring into his blue eyes.

  "Once, a long while back. She was a big rancher's daughter. Her daddy didn't like me because I was a dirty pig farmer he said. He caught us sparking one night and he ran me off with a whip and made her promise to never see me again. And she didn't. End of story."

  "Did she like you?"

  "Oh yeah, and every time I saw her, she cried. It broke my heart. But she didn't know how to fight her daddy, and neither did I." Dickens shook his head. "If I'd have fought him and hurt him, she'd have been upset, and if he'd have fought and hurt me she would have been upset, so I did nothing, because I just didn't know what to do."

  "I'm so sorry."

  "It happens. I got married a few years later, but I didn't love her as much as I did Carolyn. She died in childbirth a year later though, the baby died too."

  "My God, Dickens, how very sad for you."

  "Wasn't meant to be, Sugar. Just wasn't meant to be."

  "Did you ever want to do anything besides raise hogs?"

  "Nope, never. I was good at it. I learned from the best, my own father. You know, there's all kinds of work for a man to do, but he should do what he knows and loves rather than what others thinks he should do. Just like Wes, I had no idea he was thinking about breaking mustangs. It's a good life, for a young man, you can make money with it too."

  Kate poured him some coffee, "I agree. I would have left with Wes if he'd have asked me to."

  Dickens nodded. "He knew that too. But that's no life for a woman. And he knew it. You belong here. And now so do I. This is our home and we are family. And Wes is part of that family too, and he'll realize that soon enough."

  "I hope you are right." She murmured.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Winter came early and the snow came unannounced. It was hard to track the horses but somewhere along Christmas time Wes caught up to the wild herd. Wes didn't realize all his training of Lucky was going to pay off, but he was like a good sheep dog, he mustered those horses about, making it easier to keep them in line.

  For a while he just kept up with them, but he cracked his whip and began to herd with them, directing them in a different direction. It was hard work, especially in the snow, and the forest of trees, but he kept at it. There must have been a hundred, to a hundred and fifty horses in that herd. He got very little sleep trying to keep them from running off. He spent some time making a make-shift fence of barbed wire around them at night to keep them pinned in.

  The old Indian he'd traded with caught up to him again and offered to help him.

  The Indian spoke English and Wes was surprised.

  "Why didn't you tell me you spoke English?" Wes asked Black Feather as they camped that night.

  "You did not ask." Black Feather snorted.

  "I guess you are right. I didn't." Wes smiled.

  "What you do with these horses?" Little Feather asked him.

  "I'm going to take them down to the valley, sell some and breed some and raise them."

  "You take all of them, alone, by yourself?"

  "Unless you want to help me. I would give you twenty-five head if you help me get them down there."

  "Twenty-five horses."

  "I mean, I figure it might help your people."

  The old Indian looked at him and then smiled. "You take them to my village, then I help you get the rest to your valley."

  "It's a deal." Wes smiled. He reached out his hand to him to shake. The old Indian smiled back.

  "It's a deal!"

  Wes slept better that night, and the next day they headed for Black Feather's camp. It was miles to the west, but Wes didn't mind. With help he could get these horses down. He hadn't thought the herd would be so big, but it would be a great start he figured. And Indians were good with horses.

  It was nearly a week getting to the campsite and they were greeted by his entire tribe. When the others found out about the bargain Black Feather had struck with Wes, they were excited and pleased. They offered him food, and a dry place to lay his head.

  "It is good. We have a hard time getting through the forest and rough terrains in winter on foot. This will make it easier on the entire tribe. I would like to know if I could make more bargains with you."

  Wes smiled, "Name your bargain?"

  "If we trade corn, and fish and hides, would you trade horses every year?'

  "How many?" Wes asked.

  "Ten horses a year."

  "Done." Wes smiled and shook on it.

  "You are a good trader, my friend." Black Feather told him.

  "It will benefit us both."

  "Agreed."

  They stayed a couple of nights and when they got ready to leave two young braves came up to them. After talking to Black Feather, they wanted to go and help get the horses down from the thick forest and hill country.

  Knowing the Indians knew the best routes and the dangers, Wes was agreeable to the extra help.

  "It is good my friend. But why you trust the Indian so much?" Black Feather asked.

  Wes sat back against his saddle now and looked at Black Feather. "I've been a drifter for years, Black Feather and I have met many people, many different people. By being friendly I have learned to get along with most of them. Unless a man robs, kills, or lies, I see no reason to be unfriendly to anyone." Wes told him.

  "It is good. Perhaps my people could learn a lot from you." Black Feather smiled.

  "The time of wars is almost past. A lot of blood was shed on both sides. Then the big war came when the white man fought his own people. And killed way too many of them. I like to think we learned something from that war. Your tribe is small, but you couldn't exist if it were big. Like before. They'd have you on a reservation. But as long as there is peace, things are good."

  "Yes, many died on both sides. They always do."

  "The civil war was a blood bath, like many of your wars against other tribes."

  Black Feather nodded his expression sad and thoughtful.

  "Are you married, Black Feather."

  "No more, she died of the white man's disease, smallpox."

  "I'm sorry. Do you have children?"

  "Yes, these are my sons, Blue Dog, and White Fox." He told him proudly.

  Wes nodded at them with a smile. "Do they speak English?"

  "Some, not as much as I. But I try to teach them. It is important that we learn from the white man and maybe the white man can learn from us." Black Feather said quietly.

  "That's true. I've done a lot of traveling, but my knowledge of the hill country is not as good as yours. I don't usually stay in one place long."

  "We cannot take up the white man's religion, nor discard our beliefs, but we can be friends and not make war any longer. Tell me, does my white brother have a family?"

  Wes smiled at the 'white brother' comment. "I have. I have a sort of father, and a girl I want to marry."

  "That is good, for man should not be alone."

  "Yeah, I'm beginning to believe that." Wes smiled.

  "How long you think it will take to get down this rough terrain?" Wes asked.

  "With this many horses, four, five, maybe six weeks. But we will not lose them my friend, that is what is important."

  "Yes, you're right again."

  That night Wes slept peacefully. He was glad to have the help and to have made friends with these people. He felt good about his future now.

  For the next two weeks they pushed the horses slowly through the thick forest of trees. The stallion that led them gave them some trouble but oddly enough Blue Dog seemed to know exactly how to handle him and Wes paid close attention how he did it. Sometimes the boy worked on foot to get the reaction he wanted from the horse. But the kid knew horses better than anyone Wes ever saw. Lucky seemed to follow his lead to
o and helped Blue Dog.

  That evening at the campfire Wes told Black Feather, "Anytime they want a job working with the horses, let me know. I've never seen anyone better than your boys. Also, I'd be coming back this way or to other areas to round up mustangs, and if you and they want to help, I can promise to keep your tribe in horses for years to come."

  "That's good my brother. The Indian has taken naturally to the horse. For many years, our ancestors had no horse and dogs were used to transport our camp from one place to another. When the Spanish came with their magnificent horses, the Indian quickly learned to master them."

  "Well, I've sure seen it in action these past few days."

  "I might send them down to you at times to help out, if you can send word to me that you need them." Black Feather encouraged.

  "For their part in this I will give them both five horses."

  "You are generous."

  Wes stared into Black Feather's withered face, "Money is not everything, friendship is worth much more."

  "You are a wise one for your age."

  Wes sighed, "I've been on my own a long time, and I learned to value the good people I've come to know."

  Black Feather smiled and nodded.

  But the next day when Blue Dog was working with the Stallion to try to calm him, Wes dove down on him and the others turned to see. There was a bear trap and in trying to save him, Wes was caught on the arm with it.

  Black Feather raced to his side and both the boys and their father pulled the trap off Wes' arm. Wes was bleeding badly, and Black Feather ran to get what he needed to stop the bleeding.

  Wes was almost out of it by his return.

  "You are very brave my friend, you took the brunt of the blades for my son, and I am thankful." The boys crowded around. Black Feather let Blue Dog bandage his arm after he doctored it with some home-made concoction.

  "Wish we had whiskey for you."

  "Look in my saddle bag, there is a bottle," Wes told him.