Joelle's Secret

by Gilbert, Morris

  “All right. Sounds good.”

  The two began to eat, and finally, when they had finished the meal, Joelle got up and said, “I made peach pie today.”

  “You’re a fine cook, Joe. Where’d you learn to cook so good?”

  “Oh, I just picked it up, I guess.” She cut two pieces of the pie, a large one for him and a small one for herself.

  He took a bite. “That is prime.” He finished the pie, and the two sat there drinking coffee. Owen seemed restless. “I got something to tell you, Joe. I’m going to be leaving.”

  The news caught Joelle off-guard. “Leaving? Where you going?”

  “Well, look here.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a roll of bills. “Three hundred dollars there.”

  “Where’d you get all that money? Not from being a hotel clerk!”

  “No, I got lucky in a poker game. It’s about time, I guess. I’m going to buy a horse. Maybe Phillips will sell me that bay I like so much.”

  “He probably would. I’d get you a good price for it. When will you be going?” She suddenly felt lost, as if she were going down steps and one of the steps was missing. It had been only a short time since Owen Majors had come into her life. She hadn’t realized until this moment how much she depended on him.

  “Next week, I guess. You talk to Phillips about that horse for me.”

  “What’s it like on a wagon train, Owen?”

  “Dangerous, uncomfortable, and lots of hard work.”

  “What’s dangerous about it?”

  “The Indians for one thing. Plenty of them between here and California, and the worst kind—Kiowa and Sioux. But mostly it’s just uncomfortable. Long stretches with no water. Lose cattle that way. Of course, me and Harry won’t have a wagon. We’ll just tag along and maybe bring some game in to the train. They always have to have hunters.”

  “Where will you sleep?”

  “On the ground. I did it when I was in the dragoons. Not my favorite place, but that’s the only way I’m going to get there.”

  “Well, I hate to see you go.”

  He got up and moved his plate and cup to the table where she washed them in a dishpan, and when he came back, he reached down and grabbed her hair. He had never done that before. He pulled her head back and looked down in her face. “I guess I owe you a lot, Joe. You saved my bacon. I’d be decorating a grave somewhere if it wasn’t for you.”

  Joelle was nearly paralyzed by his touch. “Let go of my hair. You’re pulling it.”

  “You’re a finicky young fellow, but I meant it. I’ll write you when I get to California and tell you what it’s like. How about that?”

  “All right. That’ll be good.”

  * * *

  ALL DAY LONG JOELLE thought about what was happening. She knew she wanted to go to California, and finally she said, Well, Lord, I don’t know what to do, but I’m going to go. And I’m asking You to help me and Owen get there. Don’t let us get scalped.

  She made a plan. From under her bed she retrieved the metal box with the jewelry and cash her mother had given her. She stuck the cash in her pocket, and taking the box she left the stable. She went at once to a jewelry store. A small man with thick glasses and silver hair said, “Yes. What can I do for you, sir?”

  “I’ve got to sell some jewelry. It belonged to my mother. I need the money.”

  “Let me see. My name is Abe Goldman.”

  “I’m Joe Jones.”

  Goldman looked at the jewelry very carefully. He had an eyepiece that he seemed to screw into his right eye and stared at it. “Have you had these appraised?”

  “No, I never have. They came from my grandmother.”

  “I’ll make you a price, but you ought to get another offer or maybe two.”

  “Is there anybody else here?”

  “There’s a man down the street by the blacksmith.” Goldman sniffed. “You might ask him.”

  “You don’t sound like you got much confidence in him.”

  “He calls himself a jeweler,” Goldman shrugged. “Let me figure.” He took out a piece of paper and stopping to look, he wrote calculations. “I can let you have five hundred. You might get more in a big city.”

  “You think the other man would offer more?”

  “Half as much, but you go see, young fellow.”

  “All right.” Joelle left the store. She found the other jeweler who offered her three hundred. He was a fat, greasy-looking man, and Joelle didn’t like him. She returned to Goldman’s store and said, “You were right, but there’s one thing. I want to keep this ruby ring.”

  “In that case it’ll be four hundred.”

  “Can you give me the money now?”

  “Of course.” He handed her the ring, moved to the back of the store, and came out holding some bank notes. “You shouldn’t carry this much money around, young fellow.”

  “I’ll put it in a safe place.”

  She took the money, thanked Goldman, and left. She had a sense of loss for she would have liked to have kept the jew elry, but at least she had the ruby ring. She had never seen her mother wear it, and it gave her some satisfaction to know that it had belonged to her grandmother.

  * * *

  JOELLE STOPPED BY THE hotel, but Owen was off duty. She went back to the stable and paced impatiently until finally he came in for supper that night. She had bought some ribs and cooked them, and while he was eating, she said, “When are you leaving, Owen?”

  “Day after tomorrow, I think.”

  Joelle took a deep breath. “Let me go with you.”

  She saw the surprise wash across Owen’s face. “You mean to Independence?”

  “No, all the way to California. Look, I’ve got some money. It’s four hundred dollars. Maybe we could get a wagon and join the train there.”

  “Well, sure, Joe. It’ll be rough though.”

  “I don’t care. I just want to go.”

  “Well, that makes life a little bit easier. Tell you what. Let me shop around here and see if I can find a wagon and some stock. If not, we can pick them up in Independence.” He talked with excitement, his eyes flashing, and finally when she got up, he rose, put his arm around her, and gave her a hug. “I didn’t know you were an heir,” he grinned.

  Joelle was paralyzed. He was hugging her, and she was terrified. She could disguise her femininity with clothes but not when someone was holding her close. She pulled away and said, “I wish you wouldn’t hug me like that.”

  Owen laughed. “You’re finicky, Joe. You got four hundred, and I’ve got three so we’ll see what’s to be had.”

  “When can we leave?”

  “Well, most of the trains leave the first of April, just about now. If we find stock and a wagon, we can get to Independence maybe in less than four or five days. Then we hook on to one of the trains.”

  “Will they take us?”

  “Oh, they always want to have as many wagons as possible. Keeps the Indians scared off.”

  “I’d like to get out of this place. I don’t like it.”

  “Well, you may not like California either. What’ll you do then? Can’t go any farther. The ocean’s there.”

  “I know, but I can’t stay here.”

  “You know, that’s about the way I feel, Joe. I’m going to start looking out. Phillips knows stock pretty well. He may know of some good buys in oxen.”

  “You don’t want horses?”

  “No, nor mules neither. Oxen are the best on the trail, but the wagon is what we really need.”

  * * *

  JOELLE COULDN’T SLEEP THAT night, and the next day she was waiting when Owen came for breakfast. She fixed ham and eggs, and then he said, “I talked to Phillips. He knows a fellow that’s got some stock to sell. Good oxen. Get them cheap, too, and the best news is that Phillips put me on to a good buy in a wagon. I picked it up for a hundred. A real bargain.”

  “Good! When can we leave?”

  “We’ll be ready in the morning.”

/>   “I hate to leave Mr. Phillips, but he can get somebody.” She smiled and exclaimed, “It’s going to be fun, Owen!”

  “Hope you think so when we’re halfway there,” he grinned. “Know what? I think I’ve got me a pretty good partner, Joe Jones!”

  * * *

  THE STARS WERE BRIGHT overhead, and Owen had hobbled all the oxen they had bought. He had bought eight head, which would be enough, he said.

  “You mean to pull one wagon you need eight oxen?”

  “Four is usually enough, but you have to give them a rest. When an ox gets tired, he just lies down and won’t go anywhere, so we’ll have two teams.”

  They had left Fort Smith and traveled steadily all day until they camped for the night. Owen had bought the bay that he liked for fifty dollars, and she had ridden Blackie. Joelle had been surprised at how the oxen were guided. One of them walked alongside the lead beast. Owen had told her, “Lots of folks ride the lead oxen, but I just as soon walk.” They had traveled hard for three days, and now he said, “We ought to be in Independence tomorrow.”

  The days of travel had not tired her, but Owen, like all men, had rough manners on the trail. They had built a fire and cooked a simple meal, and Joelle said, “I can’t sleep. I’m too excited.”

  “Good thing to be excited.”

  She rolled over and stared at him. “You never say anything about your past. What about your family?”

  “Well, my pa and ma died of cholera on the way to Oregon, like I told you, when I was only five. I had two older brothers and two younger sisters. I took off on my own when I was sixteen.”

  “Did you ever see them again?”

  “Never did.”

  He said no more, and finally she asked, “So you made out all right?”

  “Sure, I made it fine. We’re going to be all right. We’re going to go to California. We may not find any gold, but we’ll see the ocean.”

  They were quiet for a long time, and she was shocked at how his story had touched her. Finally he said, “You OK?”

  “Yep.”

  “Good-looking young fellow like you is gonna have a good time. Girls like young fellows like you. Why, that waitress in Fort Smith was in love with you.”

  “She was just silly, and she went for everything in pants.”

  “She liked you though. She couldn’t keep her hands off of you. Always called you ‘honey’ or ‘sweetheart’ or something. And you never gave her a tumble.”

  “Didn’t like her.”

  “Well, there’ll be some more.”

  “What about you? Have you ever been married or anything?”

  He suddenly laughed. “Never been married. I guess anything suits my love life. That just about says it.”

  “You sound like you don’t like women.”

  “Well, I had one give me a pretty hard bump. I guess I’m careful. Hard for me to trust any woman now.” He suddenly laughed. “You and me, Joe, we’ll be crusty old bachelors. OK?”

  “OK, Owen. That’s what we’ll be.”

  Chapter Nine

  LONG SHADOWS GROWING EVER longer were thrown by the buildings that lined the front street of Independence, Missouri, as Owen and Joelle entered the town. Joelle was tired, for the days had been long on their journey and the nights short. Owen had wanted to make good time, and although the oxen lumbered along at a snail’s pace, they had traveled from sunup to nearly dusk, stopping only in time to cook a meal.

  During the time when Joelle sat across the fire from Majors, she had become more interested in him. He was like no man she had ever met, and constantly she was thinking about how her deceit would disgust him if he knew she was a young woman and not the lad he thought. She hated to deceive anyone but especially this man she had grown fond of. The fondness troubled her at times, but she realized that was because she had nursed him back to health. He had been so dependent on her that she could not help but think of him as weak. But he certainly wasn’t weak now.

  “Well, it looks like Independence has grown up a bit.”

  Joelle glanced at Owen. “You been here before?”

  “Oh, sure. Been awhile though. When I came through, there wasn’t half a dozen houses and a couple of stores. She’s humming now. This is the jumping-off place for all the wagon trains headed for California or Oregon. I liked it better as it was.”

  Joelle took in the main thoroughfare of the town, which, in essence, differed little from most small towns in the South. There was a brick courthouse with a dignified steeple, surrounded on three sides by a white picket fence. All around the square buggies and horses were tied to hitching rails. She saw that, for the most part, the town was composed of two-story frame buildings with steep roofs. There were a general store, hardware store, bank, hotel, livery stable, laundry, blacksmith shop, post office, and a sheriff’s office. There were also three saloons and a small weather-beaten church wedged in between a dentist’s office and a doctor’s office.

  “Whoa!” Owen called, and the oxen stopped obediently.

  “What do we do now, Owen?”

  “I guess we find Harry Jump. Let’s take these critters to the edge of town where we can stake them out. We can’t take them with us.”

  Fifteen minutes later they found a spot, and it was obvious that outside the town itself the wagon trains were forming up. Joelle spotted at least three as she watched Owen take the oxbows off the stock and tie them to a tree. She gathered food for them, put it in a box so they could feed, and then shook her head.

  “They could break those ropes if they wanted to.”

  “They won’t though. Oxen are pretty nice critters. Lots nicer than some humans,” Owen grinned. “At least I know what to do with you if you act rambunctious. I’ll tie you to a tree like I did old Delilah here.” He slapped the brown and white oxen on the shoulder, reaching up to do so.

  “You’re not tying me to a tree.”

  “Why, I might if you don’t behave yourself.” His eyes danced with fun. He suddenly reached out and grabbed her. “I’m bigger than you are, so you better mind me.”

  Joelle was powerless. He held her by the upper arms, and she knew he could pick her up if he wanted to. Quickly she said, “Turn me loose, Owen. Stop your foolishness.”

  “All right. Well, come on. Let’s go see if we can find Harry Jump.” He turned and led her back into the town, and as they walked down the wood boardwalk, they passed a café. “That grub smells pretty good. Let’s try to have a shot at finding Harry. If we don’t find him tonight, we’ll come back here and get a cooked meal. Be nice to set down at a table instead of squatting alongside a fire, won’t it?”

  “Yes, I’d like that.”

  Owen stopped several men and asked them if they had ever heard of a fellow named Harry Jump. None of them had, and finally Owen turned to Joelle. “I guess we’ll start with the sheriff.”

  “The sheriff? Why would he know where Harry is?” Joelle didn’t want to go to the sheriff’s office, for she feared there might be a reward with her description on it. She had had a nightmare about this more than once, but she saw that Owen was determined.

  He said, “Well, sheriffs know almost everybody. They’re elected officials so they have to be pretty good politicians. Come on. I saw the sheriff’s office down here.”

  They made their way down the boardwalk, and the streets were less crowded now. It was growing dark although the April sun was setting later. When they reached the sheriff’s office, Joelle’s eyes darted quickly to the board as Owen turned to go in. She had only time for a glance, but she had to know. She scanned the board.

  “Come on. You’re not going to capture any of those criminals, Joe.”

  Quickly Joelle turned and followed Owen. Inside she saw a tall man seated at a desk, leaning back and reading a book. He put it down and came to his feet. “Can I help you folks? I’m Sheriff Moseby.”

  “Maybe, Sheriff. My name’s Majors. This here is Joe Jones. We’re looking for a man.”

  “A want
ed man?” Moseby had direct gray eyes and a very steady gaze. He was examining the two as if he would to describe them later on, probably a habit with the man.

  “No, not that I know of, but we thought maybe you had heard of him. His name is Harry Jump.”

  “Harry Jump? You’re a friend of his, I take it.”

  “Sure am, Sheriff.”

  “Well, you’ve come to the right place.” Moseby gave his head a sideways jerk. “He’s one of my guests here.”

  Joelle saw that Owen was not too surprised. “What’s he done?” he said without much trace of emotion.

  “Oh, the charge is disturbing the peace. He got into a ruckus at the Shady Lady Saloon.”

  “Well, he does drink too much, and he gets a little bit ambitious. He thinks he can whip anybody, but as far as I know, he never has.”

  “Oh, he was sober, Majors. He started preaching.”

  “Preaching? Why, Harry’s no preacher!”

  “Well, he thinks he is. In any case, he got to preaching, and Bing Taylor took an exception.” The sheriff grinned broadly. “Said he had come to gamble and get drunk, not listen to a preacher. He told Jump he’d break his head if he didn’t leave.”

  “I take it he didn’t.”

  “No. He just kept on so Bing lit into him. From what I hear, Jump tried to talk his way out of it, but Bing’s a rough cob. The two of them flew at it. Finally a chair got thrown that broke a mirror behind the bar and wasted some good whiskey. My deputy arrested both of them. Bing paid his fine, but Jump says he won’t do it. He said he wasn’t disturbing the peace. All he was doing was preaching.”

  Owen removed his hat and wiped his forehead. It had been a hot day, and his shirt was damp with perspiration, and his hair was limp. “I don’t know about this preaching business, but he wasn’t a preacher when I knew him. Far from it. As a matter of fact, he was about as big a sinner as I was.”