Once they rode away, Patrick looked back to Gunner’s Creek. “Not a place where I could see myself living.”
“It’s a hard life. Hoping daily to strike it rich while you lose everything to survive day to day,” Jerrick replied.
Several children ran around a patched tent, playing in the water, their ragged, dirty clothes nor bare feet interfering in their glee while their mother looked on while washing clothes nearby. “Not the life I’d want for my family,” Patrick said and urged his horse to a trot.
Chapter Two
Mornings were her favorite time of day. Charlie Kennedy made her way from milking the cows to her house. She stopped midway and looked across the fields in an effort to locate her ranch hand Joe. He hadn’t been in the stables, nor had she’d seen him feeding the pigs or mending any fences, as he was prone to do early in the day. Once the day progressed he’d saddle up and see about the cattle.
Old Joe had been at Horseshoe ranch since a youth. He knew the land and the area like the back of his hand, so she didn’t normally worry much about him. But today it bothered her not to see him. He was getting older and couldn’t keep managing this large ranch on his own.
Just the day before, he’d gone into town to post a notice in hopes men would come and apply for ranch hand jobs there at Horseshoe, her deceased husband’s homestead.
She waited a few moments and then rushed to the house.
Her friend Mary Ellen was in the kitchen when Charlie entered. “I don’t see Joe anywhere. Did he mention what he planned to do today?”
Mary Ellen looked out the window, her pretty face forming a scowl. “That old man needs to slow down and not run around without informing us. Something could happen to him and we wouldn’t be the wiser.”
Charlie poured the milk into a pitcher and placed it into the larder to keep cool. Then she washed her hands and once again peered out the doorway toward the fields. It was a beautiful day. The new tall grass waved lazily in the breeze, the birds chirped and flew into a nearby tree settling into the branches then taking turns fluttering to the ground to forage for food.
A squirrel scampered up a tree, its fluffy tail twitching as it found a perfect place to settle and eat whatever it held in its mouth.
She smiled in spite of the nagging worry about where Joe could be. Life continued it seemed, not caring about the woes of humans.
“I’ll saddle up my mare and see about him.”
Mary Ellen nodded, drying her hands. “Be careful, don’t go too far alone.”
Charlie went outside intending to head toward the stable. Then on a whim went in the opposite direction to the clearing between trees that served as the family graveyard.
Joe kneeled in front of her husband’s grave. He’d cleared the area and spoke in low tones. Whatever he said, she wasn’t able to hear. Her eyes misted at the sight. She knew he’d cared a great deal for Daniel. His parents as well.
She remained watching in silence as Joe paid his respects thinking of the day when her husband had been killed. There was speculation of someone being responsible, that there had been foul play in his death. But Charlie preferred to think it had been a horrible accident. That Daniel had fallen off his horse after it was spooked by a snake or loud sound. He’d died when falling and the back of his head hit a rock.
The news had paralyzed her. She was only twenty-three when he died two years earlier. Much too young to be a widow.
They’d only been married a little over a year. Not enough time to get to know everything about him. They’d had a hard time in the beginning when she’d arrived as a mail order bride, with Daniel being so reserved, but little by little she’d gotten to know him. He was a kind and patient man. Ten years older than her, and set in his ways, they’d battled as he considered Charlie independent and stubborn.
She smiled at remembering how often he tried to speak to her about not riding alone or remaining to more womanly duties and not rushing out to help with the animals and such. During that time they had several ranch hands and she understood later, he’d been attempting to keep them from noticing her. Perhaps he’d been a bit possessive, but he’d never been cruel.
“Joe. I was looking for you. Had me worried when I couldn’t find you,” Charlie said nearing the older man and lowering to sit on the grass. “Visiting Daniel this morning, are you?”
The older man nodded and let out a breath. “Tellin’ him how well you’re managing, but also how we needing help. Maybe he can nudge the good Lord to send you a new husband.”
Her eyes rounded and her mouth fell open. “A husband? I don’t need one, thank you very much.” She shook her head. “Don’t listen to him Daniel. Ask the Lord if he can help by sending some ranch hands and a bit of rain.”
Joe chuckled, his keen eyes twinkling. “We could use the help of both, true enough.”
They remained for a few moments longer talking about this and that. Charlie cherished moments like these when she could think of Daniel without feeling regrets or anger for the unfairness of life. It was mid May and spring was in full swing. The clear sky and soft warmth of the sun much welcome after a long cold winter in the valley.
“I better go see about helping Mary Ellen. We’re stripping all the beds today and airing out the house.” She got to her feet and Joe did as well. “Joe,” she said placing a hand on his thin shoulder. “Don’t go too far. I don’t want to worry about you. Mary Ellen and I can mount up and help you herd tomorrow.”
He bristled, his bushy brows lowering. “I ain’t so old I can’t see after some dumb cows. I’ll be back for supper. Don’t you go running back and telling Mary Ellen a story about how I can’t be counted on to work either.”
Charlie wanted to laugh when he placed his fists on both hips and hunched toward her.
“I don’t think you can’t be counted on. But we need you, Joe. It’s just us three, we have to look after each other.”
“Women and their worryin’,” Joe muttered walking away. “Sure is annoyin’.”
She turned back to the grave. “You left him to take care of me Daniel, but sometimes I feel like it’s the other way around,” Charlie said to the silent stone.
Chapter Three
The horses trudged along in a lazy amble of two riders not in a hurry to get anywhere. Patrick pushed his hat back and considered the view before them.
Snowcapped mountains towered on two sides cradling a town that ran long and wide surrounded by green lands and tall trees. It resembled a painting he’d once seen in Jerrick’s family home. He slid a glance at Jerrick who with brows drawn in concentration studied the town as well.
It was early in the morning, so only a few people milled about doing whatever errands they had to get the day started. He spotted a woman sweeping in front of a seamstress shop and two men carrying sacks from a cart into the mercantile.
When they rode down the center of the main street, the woman stopped sweeping and narrowed her eyes in their direction, obviously interested in who they were. She did not stop watching them until they stopped.
“‘Mornin’, ma’am,” Patrick tipped his hat. “Can you tell me where we can rustle up some breakfast?”
She was older, her gray striped brown hair pulled back into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. Pleasant of face, her eyes twinkled and she smiled at them. “Good morning, gentlemen. Of course. Go on over to Betsy’s place. That building there.” She pointed down the street. “She serves up good food and hot coffee. Can’t miss it, right there with all the flower pots out front.”
“Thank you,” Jerrick told her flashing a wide grin. “Have a good day.”
“You too, boys. Welcome to Colter Valley.” With that she began sweeping anew.
The woman’s cheerful welcome along with the tasty breakfast and friendly patrons of Betsy’s place who directed them to where they could find work at a nearby ranch, gave Patrick a good feeling about Colter Valley. It could be he’d finally come home.
They rode on deeper into the valley in search of Hor
seshoe ranch where the people at the restaurant had pointed them. They were told the foreman had been in town just a couple days earlier looking for able ranch hands. Getting a job would be a good place to start, find work for a few months until they got a lay of the land and decided where and what to purchase.
The days began to warm just enough to make it pleasant. The bursts of spring flowers blossomed, announcing the impending summer season, which would bring many more.
Other than the thought of balmy weather making life pleasant, the seasons didn’t matter to Patrick. They’d stop mattering two years ago when he and Jerrick left Texas. Each day was just another as far as he was concerned.
He glanced at his friend and had to admit having Jerrick along helped Patrick stay on task. Forced him to remain focused on the goal, to prosper, make a good living. Together they’d start a new life and have families that would be nearby. Jerrick was the brother he never had. The two of them were family as far as Patrick was concerned.
Jerrick cleared his throat and looked into the distance. “How many cows you reckon we should start with if we planned to ranch?”
“I’d say a couple dozen. Why?”
“Look up ahead.”
Across the large expanse of land hundreds of cattle grazed on the plush green grass. There were corrals with horses, their tales swishing from side to side as a couple of young colts galloped in a playful circles around adults that grazed ignoring the younger ones. A large one-story ranch house came into view. Next to it were a sizeable stable and what looked to be a separate bunkhouse.
Patrick pushed his hat back admiring the view. “One day I’m going to have something like this.” It would take years and it would be hard work to have so much land and livestock. Yet he had no doubt it was possible.
A large carved sign announced they’d arrived at Horseshoe. Patrick brought his steed up short and waited scanning the area to ensure no one had a shotgun aimed at them. “See anyone?” he asked Jerrick who wiped his brow with his handkerchief and looked around.
“Nope.”
As soon as they got close to the house, the front door opened and a young woman stepped onto the porch. Her right hand was hidden into the folds of her skirt, which made Patrick guess she held a pistol.
He and Jerrick exchanged looks. Obviously, both were thinking the same thing.
She was of medium height, with her dark brown hair braided and pulled over her shoulder down the side of her chest. The young woman was stunning. Heart shaped beautiful face, with plump lips and large expressive hazel eyes. She took them in not speaking until they started to dismount. “I suggest you stay on those horses and keep going.” Her husky voice was steady, which made him wonder how many times a day she sent men away.
“We’re here to see about work. Told in town you’re looking for ranch hands,” Patrick told her keeping his eyes on her face.
“You live near here?” her narrowed eyes moved from Patrick to Jerrick. “Don’t look familiar to me.”
Jerrick attempted his usual crooked grin that worked in charming many a woman. “We just arrived to Colter Valley, ma’am. Looking to buy land and settle here. For now work will be a start.”
She ignored him and looked at Patrick. “Is that so?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Patrick said wondering why the woman was alone. No one had come to see about two strangers approaching. “Is there someone we can speak to about work?”
“Not interested in hiring you.”
“Charlie?” A man’s voice sounded just as an older cowboy walked toward her from around the side of the house. His wiry gray hair stuck out comically from under his hat and framed his weathered face. With keen eyes, he took one look at them and nodded. “Gentlemen.” He then focused on the woman. “New ranch hands?”
The woman visibly stiffened. “They claim to be passing through and heard of us hiring in town.”
The man bobbed his head a wide grin splitting his face. “Well, that’s good news then. Sure could use the help.” He came to stand before them ignoring the woman who watched with an annoyed expression.
“Don’t mind Misses Charlotte here, she don’t trust anyone.”
Patrick and Jerrick finally dismounted. Patrick looked to the woman. “I’d say that’s a smart reaction for a woman upon strangers approaching.”
At her lifting an indignant eyebrow at him, Patrick almost smiled. She had spunk, he’d give her that. He looked to the old man. “My name’s Patrick Callahan. This here is my brother Jerrick Black.” The men shook hands and tipped their hats at the woman.
“Brothers, huh? I’m Joe,” the older man eyed them.
Patrick continued to speak. “We rode from Texas, through Wyoming and finally here, looking for a place to settle, but first, work with room and board would be appreciated. Definitely interested in working for a few months until deciding where to buy and such.”
“I’m willing to work as well,” Jerrick added.
The older man and the woman exchanged a pointed look. There seemed to be many questions in her eyes, shadows of worry skirting over the surface of her pretty face. When Joe held her gaze, she finally let out a breath and nodded.
She directed her attention at both him and Jerrick. “If you want to work you can stay and help Joe. It’s temporary.” Her voice had a husky edge to it, which added to her allure. Patrick looked past her into the house. Why did only an old man accompany such a lovely creature? If she owned the property, perhaps family had left it to her.
After looking them up and down, she hiked her chin up just a bit to let them know they did not intimidate her. “Supper will be at six. Until then get settled.” Her skirts swung wide as she turned and went back inside leaving a light fragrance of lilac in her wake.
“I’m the foreman here at Horseshoe. Misses Charlotte Kennedy is the owner.”
“Seemed your mistress is put out by our appearance,” Jerrick said as they followed the spry old man toward the stables.
“Don’t pay her any mind. Charlie has a good heart.” Joe motioned to two empty stalls. “Water and feed your animals, then come meet me at the bunkhouse over yonder.” He pointed to another building. “I’ll see about blankets and such.”
Once they were alone, Patrick removed his steed’s saddle and brushed down the horse, while Jerrick did the same. He filled and carried several pails of water to fill the animals’ troths while Jerrick took care of filling feeding buckets with oats. Both horses nickered showing their appreciation. It was almost an hour before they made their way to the bunkhouse.
The interior of the bunkhouse was spacious and clean. With six beds, a table with four chairs, it was comfortable, clean, and well maintained. There was a large fireplace on one end, logs stacked neatly inside the hearth next to it. A side cabinet held a kettle, cups, and saucers and other eating utensils. On a hook next to the hearth hung a blackened pot.
Jerrick picked up a tin plate and put it back down. “Reckon we’ll have to cook after today?”
“Hope not,” Patrick replied. “Neither of us is any good at it.” He sat on a bunk and removed his shirt and boots. Once he gathered up soap and a washcloth, he headed to the door. “Washing up before supper. Spotted a water pump on the side.”
He went to the side of the bunkhouse where there was a large washstand. He guessed it was meant for the ranch hands to use to wash up and wash clothes. Had to admit, the owners of the ranch had thought of everything. He’d make sure to take plenty of notes for when he bought his own place.
It wasn’t long before he was back inside and changed. He looked forward to seeing the woman again, finding out her story.
Moments later Jerrick walked in from washing up and lay atop the blankets to look at the ceiling. “I could fall asleep right now. If it wasn’t for my grumbling belly, I’d not move.”
His friend was almost the complete opposite of him. Where he had reddish hair and green eyes, Jerrick’s hair was dark as night and his eyes were a deep brown. Instead of his more solemn n
ature, Jerrick was easygoing and quick to smile. Yet, in spite of all the differences, he was the closest thing to a brother.
Patrick pulled on his boots. “Interesting that a woman would own a place like this, don’t you think?”
“It’s probably her family’s home. Or maybe her husband is gone off on a drive or something.”
The idea of her being married didn’t sit well. If it were so, the old man, Joe, would have said so. Although most women in the west were spoken for, it would have been a welcome thing if this particular lady was not.
Patrick let out a gruff breath. Instead of having his head in the clouds, he needed to concentrate on his goal. Finding land, building a home, and getting settled. After that, he could work on a forming family and such, if it were even meant to be for him to marry. Women were scarce out here and he wasn’t going to be saddled with one not suited for him. Nothing was worse, in his opinion, than living with someone disagreeable.
The sun began to fall in the sky, and the bunkhouse became dim. Patrick lit a lantern and considered starting a fire in the hearth. It would warm the bunkhouse for the night when they returned from the meal. Not knowing how long they’d be gone, he decided it was best to wait until after supper.
After checking on his horse, which slept soundly, Patrick went to the ranch house. Just inside the door to the right was a large kitchen. Jerrick and Joe were already seated, he noted it was set for four, but Charlie Kennedy was not present.
Just as Patrick settled into a chair opposite Joe, an attractive woman, who looked to be about his age, in a flowered dress with large white apron over it, bustled over and ladled a hearty stew into bowls. She smiled at them. “I’m Mary Ellen, anything you boys need, let me know.” She went back to the counter behind them and returned with a basket of biscuits. “Go on and eat.”
Joe gave the woman a warm smile. “Mary Ellen, this here is Patrick Callahan and Jerrick Black. Claim to be brothers.”
The cook’s bright eyes took them both in. “I’m glad you’re here to help. Joe certainly could use it. Brothers?”
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