With an idea toward putting some distance between himself and Billy, and perhaps discouraging any further contact with him, Perley saddled Buck, loaded his other horses, and led them out of the barn. “It’s still in the middle of the night,” he said to Billy as he went past. “Robert will likely be in early to cut you down, but you oughta have enough time to make up a good story to explain what you’re doin’ here. I expect it’ll be a real interestin’ story, but I ain’t gonna hang around to hear it. I don’t expect to see you anymore after tonight.” He sincerely hoped that would be the case.
In the quiet of the moonlit night, he guided Buck toward the Cheyenne-Deadwood Stage Road once again. His horses were rested, and the well-traveled road was easy to follow with the help of the moon, so he planned to make the most of it to put some distance between Billy and himself. According to his railroad watch, he should have about four hours’ head start before Robert Davis came to the stable. He could only speculate what Davis would do when he discovered Billy hanging in his barn. From his brief exposure to the young thief, Perley figured that Billy was not especially bright, but he was determined as hell. Allowing for the possibility that he would still try to follow him, Perley planned to follow the stage road until daylight, then leave it to take a more easterly course and ride till he struck the North Platte in Nebraska Territory. If he was careful about it, and Billy wasn’t too skilled at tracking, maybe Perley could lose him for good.
When the moon sank below the horizon, chased away by the early appearance of a lightening of the dark sky, Perley figured he must have ridden close to twenty miles. Riding to a sizable stream cutting across the road, he decided it was time to rest his horses and cook a little breakfast for himself. The stream was wide enough to allow him to guide Buck up the middle of it, so as not to leave tracks for anyone to follow. After following the stream for a few hundred yards, he left the water when he reached a place that offered a small patch of grass in the middle of a stand of cottonwoods. He decided to stop well off the road, hopefully far enough for his fire not to be seen by anyone passing by.
* * *
After leaving his camp by the stream, he traveled for the next two days through a land of rolling, seemingly empty plains, with no sign of animal or human life. This part of the plains was new to him, and his natural sense of adventure would have welcomed the journey had it not been for the gold his packhorses carried. The task he had set for himself was to deliver his grandfather’s legacy safely to his family, as he had solemnly promised the old man. It was more responsibility than Perley enjoyed.
At the end of the second day, he was relieved to strike a river, which had to be the North Platte. Although he was still not in country he was familiar with, he knew that he could follow the river east to reach Ogallala. From there, he would travel trails that he had traveled before. He had no idea how far it was to Ogallala, but he guessed it to be no farther than a day and a half, possibly two days.
It was at that point that his sorrel packhorse decided to slow him down.
When he stopped to make camp by the North Platte and turned his horses out to graze, he noticed the sorrel favoring its right front leg, almost to the point of limping. “Come here, boy.” Perley took him by the bridle, wondering how long the horse had been suffering an injury. “Let’s take a look at that.”
He lifted the sorrel’s hoof to discover the shoe was missing. “How long have you been walkin’ without a shoe?” Perley asked, as if expecting an answer from the horse. He looked over at Buck. “Why didn’t you let me know we were workin’ a lame horse?” He examined the hoof and decided there was no injury to it. “Ain’t nothin’ I can do for you now. You just threw a shoe back there somewhere. You’re gonna have to wait till we get to Ogallala before I can get you a shoe.” He stroked the patient horse’s face. “I’ll throw most of your load over on the paint. Ain’t neither one of you totin’ that much. He can handle it for the rest of the way to Ogallala.”
He took the occasion to check the hooves of his other two horses and determined that the sorrel was the only one needing a blacksmith right away, although it wouldn’t be too long before the others were about due.
* * *
Perley was underway again early the next morning, following the river east along a well-traveled road, setting a pace to suit the comfort of the sorrel. When he deemed it time to rest the horses and cook some breakfast for himself, he began watching for a good place to stop. Approaching a sizable stand of cottonwoods close by the water’s edge, he turned Buck’s head toward them.
Buck’s whinny and snort alerted him to the presence of other horses even before he entered the stand of trees.
Perley immediately reined the big bay to a halt while he was still in the cover of the trees and drew his rifle from the saddle sling. He heard an answering whinny from a horse down near the water’s edge, but still could not see it. Nudging Buck gently, he moved slowly forward until he spotted the horses through the trees. Looking farther down the bank, he saw a wagon parked on a shallow bluff and smoke from a campfire rising up from the water’s edge below it. He turned Buck and circled around closer to the wagon, while still using the cover of the trees, thinking that it might possibly be his best decision to ride quietly back to the road and find another place to stop. About to act on that option, he hesitated when he heard the voices of two small children playing in the shallow water.
That made up his mind for him. “Hello the camp,” he called out, convinced there was no danger there. “Can I come in?” His greeting caused an immediate panic among the two adults tending the campfire and he could see the woman and the man scrambling to take cover, calling the children to them. In a moment, he saw an arm reach over the side of the wagon to grasp a shotgun, before ducking back down below the bluff.
Perley called out again. “I don’t mean you any harm. I was just fixin’ to stop to rest my horses. It looked like a good spot, but I didn’t know you folks were down here till I rode through the trees. There’s plenty of other good spots, though, so if you don’t want any company, I’ll just ride on down the river. Just say the word.”
There was no answer for a long moment, but Perley could see the barrel of the shotgun under the bed of the wagon, the man was evidently lying behind the wagon wheel. Perley couldn’t fault the man’s caution.
After another moment with no response, Perley called out again. “I’ll ride on then, and wish you folks a good day.” He wheeled Buck around to leave.
“Hold on, there, mister. There ain’t no use in you goin’ to look for another place. Come on in and share some food with us.”
When Perley turned Buck around again and rode down to the bluff, the man got to his feet and stood by the wagon tongue. “I hope you’ll pardon my lack of hospitality, but I declare, I’ve got to where I’m mighty cautious.”
“It’s a good way to be,” Perley said. “Can’t tell who you’re liable to run into these days.” He pulled Buck up at the wagon and stepped down. “Howdy. My name’s Perley Gates.”
His greeting was met with a look of astonishment, then a broad grin, a reaction Perley was accustomed to.
“How do, Pearly. I’m Lawson Penny.” He turned and called behind him, “Jenny, come on up and say howdy to Pearly Gates.”
In a moment, a tiny elfin woman with braids hanging down below her waist, climbed out from behind the low bluff where she had sought to hide.
“This is Pearly Gates,” her husband said, still all smiles.
His comment caused her to smile as well as she looked at Perley. “Welcome to our camp, Mr. Gates. We’ve got coffee on the fire and some sowbelly to share, if you’re hungry.” She was almost knocked off balance then when two small children bumped into her legs, eager to see the stranger. “This is Luke and Mary,” Jenny said.
“Well, I’m mighty proud to meet you,” Perley said and extended his hand, which the young boy grasped and shook up and down like a pump handle exactly two times, while Mary preferred to hide behind her
mother’s legs. “I appreciate your hospitality,” Perley said, looking back at Jenny. “I’ve got some food I can offer, if you’d like some smoked deer meat. I reckon that’s what I was fixin’ to cook.”
“That would surely be welcome,” Penny said. “We don’t get that very often, do we, Jenny?” He waited for her smile in response, then turned back to Perley. “Pearly Gates, that’s a right interestin’ name. I guess I oughta explain why it caused me to grin like I did. You see, I just left Blue Creek yesterday, where I was pastor of a new church. It ain’t nothin’ but a tent, but we had hopes of buildin’ a real church with the help of some of the settlers there. It’s a long story, but what came of it was things didn’t work out to support a church. So I decided we had to leave town and look for another place to live. Now when a man comes along with a name like Pearly Gates, right when I had given up, it must be a sign that me and my family were doing what God intended, and He wants a church in Blue Creek.”
Perley listened politely but was not convinced the preacher was reading the signs correctly. Perley could never imagine he might be used to carry any spiritual messages. “I don’t know if it makes any difference or not, but my name ain’t spelt the same as those gates up in heaven. It just sounds the same.”
“Sometimes a sign from the Lord can be mighty subtle,” Penny said. “It’s up to man to recognize one when it’s given, and I think I just got one when you showed up right now. I think it was more than coincidence when you picked this very spot to rest your horses.”
“Let the man take care of his horses, Lawson,” Jenny Penny interrupted. “You can see he wants to let them drink.” She smiled at Perley. “My husband can get carried away sometimes. You do what you were fixin’ to do and I’ll start some fresh coffee. We can talk when we’re eatin’ that venison you offered.”
Perley turned to lead his horses down to the river, but she added one more thing. “I can sense that you’ve had to explain your name every time you meet somebody new. I can appreciate how you feel. I’ve got a silly name, myself. Jenny Penny. I almost didn’t marry Lawson because of it.” She laughed and gave her husband a playful punch on his shoulder.
He responded with a grin, having heard it many times before.
CHAPTER 3
“Where is Blue Creek?” Perley asked as he sat by the fire with the Reverend and Mrs. Penny. “I can’t say as I’ve ever heard of it.”
“I don’t wonder,” Penny replied. “It ain’t been but about a year in the makin’. About seven miles downstream from here, Blue Creek empties into the river. Three miles up that creek is the town of Blue Creek. Some years back, an Indian village set on the spot. They had some trouble with the army and the soldiers wiped the village out. Settlers are moving in around there now, enough of ’em that a little town started to grow. There’s a post office, a general merchandise store, a livery stable, and of course, a saloon. That’s what brought me and Jenny to Blue Creek. We figured if they were goin’ to have a representative of the devil, they needed a representative of the Lord, too. Problem is, ain’t nobody able to help out much, and nobody’s got money to spare to build a church. They’re too hard up against it trying to get their farms goin’. But I know in my heart that if there was a building, a solid church, instead of a tent, it’d be enough to get the support a community needs. They need a rock to stand on and the church would grow from that.”
When the preacher finally paused to take a drink of coffee, Perley took the opportunity to ask a question. “What about cattlemen? Any trouble between the farmers and the cattlemen? Blue Creek ain’t very far from Ogallala and the railhead of the Union Pacific. I’d a-thought there might be some trouble with cattlemen. My family’s in the cattle business, and I helped drive a herd up from Texas durin’ the first part of summer, myself.”
“No trouble so far,” Penny replied. “There’s a couple of cattle ranches east of the town, but they’re closer to Ogallala than they are to Blue Creek.” After a short lull in the conversation, he said, “But enough about us and Blue Creek. You never said where you’re on your way to.”
“Texas,” Perley answered. “I’m on my way back home to Texas. I’m needin’ to find a blacksmith pretty quick, though. One of my horses threw a shoe. But when you were talkin’ about Blue Creek, I didn’t hear you say a blacksmith was there.”
“There sure is,” Penny was quick to reply. “I guess I did forget. Leonard Porter, he’s a dandy blacksmith and a fine fellow. He’d treat you right.” When he saw that Perley was giving that some consideration, he asked, “Why don’t you ride along with us to Blue Creek? We’d be glad to have you join us, unless the wagon would slow you down too much.”
“That suits me just fine,” Perley said. “I ain’t movin’ very fast, anyway, since one of my horses is limpin’. I expect I’d best take the closest blacksmith I can find.”
“Good,” the preacher replied. “We’ll enjoy the company, won’t we, Mother?”
His wife smiled broadly in response.
When the camp was dismantled, the wagon hitched up, and Perley’s horses ready to go, Perley started to Blue Creek with his new friends, and eight-year-old Luke riding behind his saddle.
* * *
“How far is Ogallala from here?” Perley asked when they reached the point where Blue Creek flowed into the North Platte River.
“Close to thirty miles from right here,” Penny answered. “Leonard Porter’s blacksmith shop ain’t but three miles that-a-way, though.” He pointed up the creek, thinking that Perley might be changing his mind about going to Blue Creek. “There’ll still be plenty of daylight left when we get there. You can camp with us at our old spot while you’re waitin’ for Leonard to shoe your horse. Maybe Jenny will whip up some biscuits for supper. If nobody ain’t moved in our old place, there’s a good oven I built in the ground that bakes ’em dang-nigh as good as an iron oven.”
“That sounds to my likin’,” Perley said, then turned to the young boy riding behind his saddle. “How ’bout you, Luke?”
“Yes, sir,” Luke replied and kicked his heels against Buck’s sides. “Giddyup!”
The big bay turned his head to look back at the boy, but didn’t move until Perley nudged him forward. He was already getting a feeling that he had been adopted by the family. Another soul to save, he thought might be Penny’s intention, but probably just friendly hospitality. His recent experience with Billy Tuttle had left him with a natural suspicion of anyone’s motives. He reminded himself that Penny had shown no interest at all in what he carried in his packs.
Three miles up the creek they came to the first of the collection of frame buildings, just as Penny had said. It was a stable with a barn and corral. Penny said the man who had built it was Frank Mosely. He walked out front to hail the wagon when he spotted them passing his stable, and Penny pulled up to speak to him.
“Well, howdy, Reverend, Mrs. Penny,” Mosely greeted them. “I thought you folks had decided to leave us. You comin’ back?”
“That’s a fact,” Penny replied. “Got to thinkin’ it over and decided I was givin’ up too quick.” He chuckled and added, “You sinners in Blue Creek deserve savin’.”
“Don’t know about that, but I’m sure we need savin’. I’m mighty glad you changed your mind. I was afraid we might end up with a town as wild as Ogallala. Who’s this you got ridin’ with you?”
“Perley Gates,” Penny answered with enthusiasm, “and he’s needin’ to have Leonard take a look at one of his horses . . . if he ain’t already gone to the house for supper.”
“Glad to meetcha, Pearly,” Mosely said, then turned to Penny again when Perley nodded in response. “I expect he’s still there. I saw him a few minutes ago out in front of his forge.”
“We’ll get on down there, before he decides to go home,” Penny said. “See you in church on Sunday?” he asked as he pulled away.
“Reckon so,” Mosely replied, knowing his wife would give him little choice. “You gonna need some help puttin�
� your tent back up?”
“No, thanks just the same. Jenny and I took it down. Maybe Perley will help us set it up again.”
“Well, your cook shed is still there,” Mosely said. “Least it was this mornin’. I don’t reckon anybody bothered it.”
While Mosely stood watching them, he thought, Pearly Gates, now how the blue hell did Penny come up with a man named Pearly Gates? “Maybe I’d better go to church,” he muttered.
Aware now that he was expected to pay for the supper Jenny promised by helping erect a large tent, Perley shrugged. He was not surprised. Penny and Jenny seemed like really nice folks, though. He should be glad to help out. It might help to get him in good with the Lord.
Perley’s thoughts were interrupted by a sudden shout from Luke behind him. “Howdy, Mr. Porter!”
“Howdy, Luke,” Porter replied with a great big grin for the boy. “Whatcha doin’ ridin’ that big bay horse?” He didn’t wait for a reply from Luke, but called out a greeting to his father. “Reverend, I thought you’d left us.”
“I did, but I got called back,” Penny said, then went through the same explanation he had just covered with Mosely. When he finished, he introduced Perley and told Porter that Perley had need of his services.
“That so? Let’s have a look.” The blacksmith lifted the sorrel’s hoof and inspected it. “Shoe’s gone, all right, but the hoof looks like it ain’t in bad shape. I can fit you a new shoe.” He dropped the hoof and squinted at the sun sinking closer to the western horizon. “You gotta have it tonight?”
A Reason to Die Page 4