Lauraine Snelling - [Wild West Wind 01]

by Valley of Dreams

  “Say three dollars.”

  They branded the two calves that afternoon, with Chief running the show.

  Cassie gagged on the stench of burning hair and hide. “How do you know how to do all this?” she asked.

  “Who do you suppose branded the show stock?” He nodded to Micah. “Him and me and some of the others.”

  “Is George branded?”

  “Nope. And I ain’t about to try it. The others were branded as calves.”

  BAR E RANCH

  Early the next day Lucas brought in a nice spike buck. After hurrying through breakfast, the brothers went out to the barn to finish dressing it out. With the carcass wrapped in sheeting and the liver and the heart soaking in brine in the sink, Ransom, Lucas, and their mother bundled up and took the wagon out to the apple trees. By the time they’d stripped the trees bare and picked up the few apples that the deer didn’t get, the sun was high and warm enough to take off their jackets.

  Mavis bit into an apple and, leaning against a wagon wheel, stared out across the valley. “This is one thing we never could figure a way to have at the house, and yet we didn’t want to build a road clear up here either.”

  “What is that?” Ransom turned from setting the bushel basket in the back of the wagon.

  “This view. I’d sit outside my front door of the cabin and look out across the valley just thanking God for such a beautiful place to live. But building the ranch house where we did was much smarter.”

  “Why’d you build the cabin up here?”

  “To be closer to the mine. These apple trees were one of the things I was sad to leave behind.” She waved her half-eaten apple. “Can’t find an apple anywhere with better flavor.”

  “I’d like to go on up to the cabin if you don’t mind.” Ransom polished the apple on his pant leg and took a bite.

  “I never mind going up there.” She motioned toward the pine trees. “You thinned that stand well. It’ll give those smaller ones a chance to grow.” She tossed her apple core out into the grass. “Let’s go.”

  What used to be a well-used trail was now barely visible as they climbed the hill behind the orchard. The boarded-up entrance to the mine beckoned his attention, but after his mother’s stern warnings, he ignored it. He’d deal with that later.

  An oak tree shaded the cabin, covering the ground around it with acorns and dry leaves.

  “We should bring the pigs up here. They’d clean up those acorns right quick.”

  “Right, and some cougar would look on that as serving his next meal up all nice and tidy.” Lucas pulled the latch, and the door swung open. They stepped inside, blinking in the change from sunlight to dimness. Light through the two windows and the door was sufficient once their eyes adjusted.

  “We cut the logs ourselves, and the neighbors came for a cabin raising. It was up in one day.”

  Ransom and Lucas walked around, looking for water stains and signs of animal habitation. One year they had found a mound of pine cones where a squirrel had gotten in and made sure he had plenty to eat in his palace. They’d blocked his hole by the fireplace and threw his store out. The rope-strung bed in the corner needed a mattress, and the whole place needed a good cleaning. But other than that, the cabin was aging well.

  “What do you think?” Lucas asked after examining one of the windows to make sure the glass didn’t need new glazing. The small cookstove wore a bit of rust, but the chimney felt secure, and there were no nests in the fireplace chimney. Lucas stuck his head in the fireplace to make sure.

  Mavis opened one of the cupboards and a mouse leaped out. She let out a small shriek, making her sons laugh. “He caught me by surprise.” She gave them both a reproachful look. “You would have jumped too.”

  “Of course, Mor.” Lucas rolled his lips together to keep from laughing.

  “You satisfied?” Ransom asked.

  “I am. Let’s go have dinner. The soup should be ready by now. I think I’ll make dumplings. Your father loved dumplings.”

  Back at the ranch house, she mixed the dumplings and dropped them by spoonfuls into the bubbling soup. For a treat, she sliced bread and, putting butter in a frying pan, browned the slices slightly.

  Ransom scrubbed his hands at the sink where, thanks to their windmill, they had running water. Then he dried them on the towel hanging there for that purpose. “After dinner I’m going to get the press in shape for the party,” he said, looking at Lucas. “While you dig the pit. We ought to line that with rock or bricks to keep the dirt from washing into it.”

  “As if we need one more thing to do.” Lucas pulled out his chair and sat.

  “I’m thinking that fitting that cabin out would make a great place to stay if the weather turns bad when we’re shoring up the mine,” Ransom said, sitting down.

  “I thought you gave up on that idea.” Mavis set plates with bowls full of soup on the table.

  “Mor, something is driving me. I need to work that mine. If nothing good comes of it, so be it, but there’s something that says I have to try.”

  “In spite of your father’s wishes.”

  Ransom nodded. “Right.”

  She stared at him. “Foolhardy.”

  Later, when Ransom was working on the apple press, he thought back to his mother’s words. The barb hurt but she hadn’t absolutely forbidden his reopening the mine. . . . Oh, and he’d forgotten to tell them that Emerson would come out on Monday.

  24

  ON THE TRAIL

  After the promised cornmeal mush for breakfast with sugar on it for a real treat, Cassie moaned to herself, If only there were milk. All the things she used to take for granted, like milk on cereal, cream in coffee, fresh bread every day, pies and cakes for dessert, and eggs in the morning. Her mouth watered at the memories.

  Today Micah was driving the wagon, something he’d been doing more and more, so she helped Chief with the livestock. One of the horses that spelled off the other team on the wagon insisted on snatching grass every other foot. When she flipped her looped rope at him, he glared at her and took off after the others.

  Othello grinned up at her, tongue lolling.

  “You want a ride up here, fella?” She stopped and patted his spot on Wind Dancer’s rump. Othello took two steps and a flying leap to land behind her, where he gave her ear a quick lick. Cassie laughed and turned to give him a one-armed hug. Dancer snorted and swiveled his ears. “All right, jealous one.” She patted his shoulder and smoothed the small flips of his mane to the same side as the rest. “You handsome horse, you. What a trooper.”

  When Cassie rode up by the wagon, Runs Like a Deer’s mouth fell open at the sight of the dog on the horse behind Cassie. Then she laughed. Cassie laughed with her. With the sun warming the crisp fall air and the smell of pine and fir trees drifting on the wind, she felt like letting Dancer gallop ahead of the wagon and yelling in the breeze. Instead, she kept him at a slow jog so that Othello would not slide off.

  When they met another wagon, the small children in the back pointed at the dog and laughed in delight. The woman on the driver’s seat nodded a greeting.

  “Othello, you know what? People here are very friendly. Pretty soon we’re going to see Pa’s valley, and then we’ll be home. A real home. For the first time in my entire life we’re going to have a home that stays in one place. What do you think of that?”

  Othello barked twice.

  That afternoon, when a sign at the side of the road said Welcome to Argus, she dropped back with the wagon, and Chief moved the livestock up right behind it.

  “You go ahead and see what it is like. Can we take the animals down Main Street?”

  Cassie told Othello to get down and stay with Chief, then nudged Wind Dancer ahead, and they trotted into the town. A church on their left wore a sign that said Argus Lutheran Church. And under that: Reverend Brandenburg. That was the man she was supposed to meet. A man and a woman in a buggy waved at her as she stopped her horse at the hitching post. No one was at the ch
urch, but a man riding by pointed to the pastor’s house, one over from the church. Cassie rode over there and stopped again at a hitching rail. After flipping the reins around the silvered rail, she walked up to the house and knocked on the door.

  No answer. She knocked again. “We’re back here” came a call from the backyard. She took the path around the house and found a man and a woman digging potatoes in the garden.

  “Welcome, young lady.” The man wiped his hands on his pants and crossed to greet her. “You need some potatoes?”

  Cassie knew instantly that she liked this man. “I haven’t had potatoes for more than a month. That would be wonderful.”

  “Good, good. I’m Reverend Brandenburg, and this good woman is my wife, Elouisa.”

  “I am Cassie Lockwood and I have a letter here from Reverend Kemp in Rapid City. He said he’s a good friend of yours.”

  “That he is. We just don’t get to see them very often.” He accepted the letter and read it quickly. “So you are looking for your father’s valley?”

  “I am. We’ve come from Dickinson, North Dakota.”

  “We?”

  “I left the others just out of town. We have some cattle, and we weren’t sure we could drive them through town. Besides, I didn’t know where your church was.”

  “How many are in your party?”

  “Four, along with two dogs, horses, Longhorns, and, well . . . three buffalo.”

  His mouth fell open. “Did you say buffalo?”

  Cassie looked him directly in the face. “Yes. The bull’s name is George.”

  “I see. And how will that—those—buffalo react to a town?”

  “George has been through others. I think he thinks he’s just one of the cows.”

  “Has your buffalo been corralled before?”

  “Oh yes.” Do I tell him the whole story, or what? Cassie felt pulled two ways. Keep on going to find the ranch. Or camp near town and go on tomorrow?

  “We have some corrals over by the train tracks. You could put your animals in there and camp in the field next to the church.”

  “That sounds like a good idea, but we don’t have hay or grain for our animals. They need to graze.” And I can’t afford to buy any. Go on, stay . . . what are we to do?

  Brandenburg rubbed his chin.

  “Surely there’s enough hay over there to feed these animals,” Mrs. Brandenburg said softly. “We can find someone to replace what they use.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. I’m just not sure what is best to do,” Cassie said, nodding at the smiling woman. Go or stay? They were so close now.

  “I think you should bring your people in, put the animals in the corrals, and join us for supper.” She glanced at her husband with a gentle smile. “Not that you asked my opinion or anything.”

  Reverend Brandenburg smiled at his wife. “As usual, she has figured it all out way ahead of me. Please, do what she says. Mrs. Brandenburg loves to feed people.”

  Cassie struggled before she made her next question. “But two of my people are Indian. Will that make a difference?”

  “Are they hungry for a home-cooked meal?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Good. Reverend will go with you to show you the way.” She patted his arm. “Won’t you, dear?”

  “Of course. But I don’t have a horse. I’ll be waiting for you right here, so come on in.”

  Cassie stared from one to the other, and then heaved a sigh of . . . what? Defeat or compromise? “Thank you for your hospitality.” She returned to her horse and mounted. “It won’t be long.”

  She set Wind Dancer to a lope and reached the others in five minutes. “Come on ahead. Reverend Brandenburg is going to show us where to corral the stock, and then we’ll camp in the field by the church.”

  Chief stared at her. “You are sure?”

  “I am.” Lord, this seems to be a gift from you. Please, if not, tell me to go on. So close to the valley. Was she postponing the next step?

  “We are all invited to supper at the pastor’s house,” Cassie said, repeating the invitation to the stunned group.

  Micah sat on his horse, keeping an eye on the stock, most of which were lying down, chewing their cuds. The spare horses were grazing along the fence line of a farm that bordered the road. “You sure about us all being welcome?”

  “Mrs. Brandenburg said for all of us to come. Pastor will show us the way to the corrals.”

  “She knows we are Indian?” Chief asked.

  “She knows.” Cassie straightened. “So let’s get a move on.” She turned Wind Dancer around and led the way into the town of Argus. Reverend Brandenburg met them at the second corner.

  “Turn left here and we’ll go three blocks, then turn right for one block.” He mounted his bicycle and pedaled beside her. “This won’t bother your horse, will it?”

  “Nothing bothers Wind Dancer. He’s used to Wild West shows.”

  “I’ll go ahead and open the gate. Please keep the cattle from grazing on the trees and bushes in people’s yards.”

  Cassie dropped back to give Chief the instructions and then to help Micah keep the cattle moving. When they scented water, they picked up their pace and trotted right through the gates, cattle in one pen and horses in another. Micah dismounted to help the pastor throw in some hay. The water tanks were already full.

  Cassie watched the horns clash as all the Longhorns tried to drink at the same time. While it sounded fierce, she knew they never injured each other. They stepped back when George decided to drink.

  “How did you get buffalo?” Brandenburg asked.

  “George was part of the show, but he’s old and would not have done well in a new show. We know his weaknesses, so he came with us. The others followed him.”

  “I have a feeling you have many stories to tell.”

  “Actually, Chief is a far better storyteller than I am. I grew up in the show, so life away from it is all new to me.”

  “You really are or were the star of the show?”

  “Well, the shooting and trick-riding part.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  She thought a moment. “Yes, on one hand, but our traveling has taught me a lot of new things. I’m looking forward to finding my father’s valley and settling down. He always wanted to raise cattle and Appaloosa horses.”

  “An admirable dream. Since the animals are all settled, we’ll go to the house now. You can hobble the team there and your two horses. That field needs to be grazed off anyway.” He led them around a block and to the edge of town where the house sat in the dusk. He showed them where to park the wagon, but when Runs Like a Deer was helped down from the wagon seat, he stopped.

  “Can she walk to our house?”

  “She has a crutch. The men will help her.” Cassie dismounted. “Let’s leave the horses tied up until we get back.” She paused. “I really would like to clean up a bit before we come.”

  “You can wash up at our house.” Reverend Brandenburg pushed his bicycle so he could walk with them when the animals were grazing. “Your wagon will most likely cause quite a stir in the morning.”

  “Would we be better to camp outside of town?”

  “This way you don’t have to worry about your livestock. People in Argus are used to cattle being driven to the railroad. They’ll probably think this is a Gypsy wagon.”

  “More and more I’m wishing we’d taken the time and money to repaint the wagon.” She followed him into the house, and he held the door open for the others. Micah and Chief picked up Runs Like a Deer and lifted her over the steps.

  “Welcome, welcome.” Mrs. Brandenburg greeted each of them and repeated their names as they were introduced. “I’m sure you’d all like a chance to clean up and then come right this way when you’re done. I have supper all ready.”

  The fragrances of food drew them to the round table in the kitchen that was set for six.

  “Why don’t you men take the chairs near the windows. Runs Like a Deer, I think sitt
ing here would be easiest for you.” Mrs. Brandenburg pulled out the chair she indicated and helped her guest be seated. Chief and Micah had both removed their hats when they came in the front door and hung them on the hall tree. Cassie let hers hang down her back by the stampede string that she so seldom used unless she was in the arena.

  She glanced around the room. If this was what all kitchens could be like, she realized that she did indeed want one. The more she was in people’s homes, the more her memories of the cook tent faded. White curtains at the windows, several plants in the window, some with red blossoms and one pink and white. A framed sampler on the wall looked old. A braided rug lay in front of the sink and another near the cookstove. Clear glass knobs adorned the cupboard doors, cupboards that lined one wall clear to the ceiling.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Brandenburg. This is so lovely and smells absolutely delicious.” An ache started in her middle. Could something like this be part of her new life? She glanced down at her hands. So much for cleaning up. She should have insisted they scrub before they came. Cassie sat down in the chair indicated and pulled it in. Glancing at Chief and Micah, she swallowed a smile. While she was getting used to being treated like a guest, thanks to her newfound friends in the pastorate, her three friends looked decidedly uncomfortable.

  “Let us bow our heads for grace.” Reverend Brandenburg prayed simply, but Cassie had no doubt that God was listening. The man spoke as to his best friend, blessing the food and the guests at his table, that their dreams may be accomplished. He thanked God for bringing them to Argus safely.

  So did Cassie. She murmured an amen along with his and took the bowl that Mrs. Brandenburg started around. Potatoes, real cooked potatoes. The aroma alone made her mouth water. “What did you sprinkle on these?”

  “Oh, that’s just a bit of dill leaves, if you can call them that, from my garden. I do love the smell of dill.” She looked to the others. “Please start the serving bowl or plate nearest you and help yourselves. Oh, and in our house we pass them to the right.” Her gentle voice held no note of censure or criticism. One would think she entertained such a motley crew every day.