The Man from Shenandoah

by Marsha Ward

Chapter 12

  Rand looked at Amanda. She nodded her head. He scratched his ear, looked over at Rod, and shrugged his shoulders.

  “I’ll give you fifty dollars and a hundred pounds of flour. If you’re anxious to be off, I’ll be happy to help you pack your bags.”

  The dark-haired owner laughed and slapped his chest. “Ye can keep the flour. I’ll take the cash and leave in the morning. My brother’s holding a claim for me that shows signs of bein’ the biggest strike in Colorado history. Ye won’t see me keeping no flea-bitten hotel no more after tonight. I’ve got a fortune waiting for me over yonder.”

  Rand turned to his wife. “I reckon we’ve got a hotel to run, Mandy. We’ll see if there’s a place to set up the store.” He glanced at Rod. “You won’t have to look far to find us come Christmas time, Rod.”

  “You’ve a lucky streak in you, Rand. Ten minutes in town and already you’re a leading citizen. We’ll just eat and be on our way.”

  Rand gestured toward the dining room. “Go find a table and eat up.”

  Ten members of the Owen family followed Rod into the dining room, Roddy in his father’s arms. The lighting—coming from six candles in wall holders—was dim, and Carl stopped to let his eyes adjust. He noticed that the tables, jammed with avidly eating men, were made of rough planks of wood, splintered along the edges, while the men sat on benches made of half-logs.

  “Do you bring your own lamp to see by, Papa?” Julianna looked around curiously.

  “It would make an improvement, I reckon, daughter.” Rod laughed.

  “Look, Rod.” Julia pointed. “Those men are getting up. I figure there‘s room for us at that table.”

  Seven big men filed past the family, one holding his full belly and burping loudly. Another nodded to Julia and said, “Eat fast, ma’am. They clear the room at seven for the dance.”

  “A dance, Pa?” Marie’s eyes sparkled.

  “Not tonight, daughter. We have to be on our way early tomorrow. We’ll be in at Christmas time, and there’ll be plenty of dancing then.” Rod sat down, and the rest of the group squeezed onto the benches.

  A sturdy matron came over to the table and cocked her head to one side. “Buffalo steaks, beans and sourdough bread are what we serve. Butter and peach preserves is extra.”

  Rod pointed to Carl. “He gives the orders tonight.”

  “There’s ten of us can do justice to that fare,” Carl said, turning to Mary. “What’s the young’un eat, Mistress Mary?”

  “Bread and butter and peach preserves. And half a helping of beans.”

  “Bring what she said for the young’un,” ordered Carl. “And bring all the rest of us butter and preserves.”

  ~~~

  First light saw the Owen wagons already on the prairie heading southwest for the mountains. A constant wind blew over the small hills and rocky outcroppings of the desolate countryside. Ahead lay the Wet Mountains, their wooded green flanks topped by moisture-laden clouds.

  “That sight over yonder gives me a real peace, Rod. I don’t mind traversing this arid land if I can live snuggled up against them sweet green hills.” Julia gave a sigh of contentment. “I reckon if we get a nice piece of property up there, I’ll say you kept your promise of trees, and right handsomely, too.”

  “With those rain clouds, there’s bound to be water a-plenty in this country. We need to look for a spring or a creek coming off those mountains, and there we’ll build.”

  The next day, Rod stopped the team in a secluded meadow through which a creek flowed from the side of Greenhorn Mountain. Juniper and piñon trees surrounded the grassy field, and on the bench below them, bands of color showed where aspen and oak trees lived. Up the mountain, pine, fir, and spruce promised an evergreen world.

  As he helped Julia to the ground, Rod asked, “How does this place suit you?”

  Julia ran out on the thick carpet of grass. She whirled around, laughing. “This is home, Rod. This is our home!” She ran back and stopped, breathless, in front of him. “This is better than back in the Valley. We have all of this to ourselves.” The motion of her arm took in the entire mountain and the valley of the creek below. “And no Yankees to drive us out. Oh, Rod, it’s well nigh perfect!”

  “You’ve got a sparkle to you like a dozen gems, Julie. My heart leaps to know you’re mine.” He took her in his arms and looked around at his grinning sons. “Well, she is mine,” he declared, and kissed their mother.

  Julianna giggled and hid her face in her hands. “Why’s Papa acting so silly, Marie?” she asked from between her fingers.

  “He’s so glad to be home, Jule,” answered her sister, eyeing the rolling tops of the mountains before them. “You know, these mountains look like the ones we left in Virginia. I feel like I’m home, too.”

  “Well, if we’re home, where is our house?”

  “Julianna! Pa and the boys have to build it. You can’t expect it to be here waiting for us.” Marie turned and walked away.

  Her sister followed, tugging on her skirt. “You mean we have to make everything, just like we done all across the country?”

  “I bet you thought it’d all be here like back in Virginia, didn’t you?”

  “This is sure different than I expected. Marie, I’m scared of critters. I want a proper house.”

  “Who you been talking to, Ida Hilbrands? We’ll have a house by and by, Jule, and Pa won’t let anything get you; so don’t go to crying on me. I want to go see that crick.”

  Rod sent Clay and Albert to water the stock and the teams, then turned to his older sons. “Well boys, it’s time to sharpen the axes. I’ll stake out my homestead on the south side of the creek, and Rulon, you can have the north side, if you like. We could put the cabins right opposite each other, and build a little bridge over the creek for sociability. We’ll put a half-shelter behind the house for the horses and mules, and the cattle pens right out there, in the meadow. They’ll have plenty of grass down there.”

  Carl scratched his shoulder. “I’m going to need me a homestead, too, Pa. I like that little bench land we passed just north of here.”

  Rod nodded. “That looked like a fine place for a cabin.”

  “I’m hoping there’s a sweet water creek south of here,” James said, eyeing the trees in that direction.

  “As soon as we set up camp here, you can ride over and find a place you like,” Rod said. “Pick your spot and drive your stakes.” He looked around the sweep of the horizon. “We’ll work on cabins for your wives as soon as your ma and Mary have theirs.”

  The men cut small saplings and made temporary shelters with the wagon covers until cabins could be raised. Julia arranged her kitchen goods on a pile of boxes, and set about fixing a fire ring for the Dutch ovens and iron skillets. Mary joined her while Marie and Julianna took Roddy for a walk to gather firewood.

  “Here now, don’t you go to lifting that heavy oven, girl,” Julia cautioned, looking at Mary’s flushed face with a critical eye. “You need to set and rest a mite. Just take a seat on that stool, yes, draw it up over here and put your feet up a while. There’s no hurry to make the fire, for once. We don’t need to start on supper for an hour yet.”

  Mary sat down heavily, and slowly swung her feet up to rest on a wooden box. “I’m fine, Mis’ Owen. Just wore out from traveling. It feels right good to stop.”

  “Mary, you ought to be blooming right now, but you look all tuckered out most of the time. What can I do to bring some sparkle to those eyes?” Julia sighed. “And child, I wish you could call me ‘Ma’. Four years you’ve been my son’s wife, and still give me a stranger’s name.”

  Mary stared down at her hands. “I suppose I feel like a stranger. I didn’t get to know you all very well, living with my folks all the time Rulon was gone to the fighting.” She rubbed the bulge beneath her skirt.

  “I always thought you should have come to us, girl. But them was war times, and unsettled as they was, you probably got more food with your pa. Now we got the t
ime and the chance to learn to be real kin.” Julia leaned forward and took Mary’s hands. “You got a special place in my heart, being wed to my first-born. And you brought forth my first grandbaby, with the second a-rising in the oven. Don’t be a stranger to me.”

  Mary’s eyes filled with tears, and she wiped them away with her hand. “Sometimes, I want to be back home with my mama taking care of me, spooning hot tea into my mouth like she done when I was a little one. I can't believe I'm a woman grown, with my own little boy and a husband. Begging your pardon, Mis’ Owen, but some mornings I wake up frightened, ‘cause I can’t remember why there's a man beside me in the bed. Rulon’s never been anything but gentle with me, but he’s a stranger. I barely know him. ” She wiped her eyes again, then bit her knuckle.

  “Oh my land sakes! I don't wonder you’re confused. Rulon gone for so long, then back and shot full of holes, and you expected to nurse him back to health. Why, I’d be in a muddle myself.” Julia offered Mary the corner of her apron to dry her eyes.

  “You’re so good and kind, Mis’ Owen. I don't deserve all this attention. There’s supper to get.” Mary dabbed at her eyes with Julia’s apron.

  “Nonsense! I said there was no hurry.” Julia cupped her hand under Mary’s chin and lifted her face. “I know what’s needed. Mr. Owen and me, we’ve got to turn loose of Rulon. He’s his own man now, and we’ve got to let you young folks heed the words of the Good Book. You know the part, the one that tells about a man leaving his father and mother, and taking his wife unto himself to make a new family?”

  Mary sniffed and nodded.

  “You've got a good start on the family, so I don’t doubt you took each other the way the Lord intended, but now the both of you need to leave father and mother. Leave off yearning for your ma, Mary, and turn your love to Rulon. He’s a gentle man, but he’s got plenty of strength for you to rely on. He won’t let you down.” Julia patted Mary’s shoulder. “I spoke a long bit, I reckon, but heed my last words. I’ll speak to Mr. Owen about building you the first cabin. You have more need than I do.”

  ~~~

  After several days of logging, enough trees had been cut, and the men raised Rulon’s cabin. When the last shingle was finally bound into place, Rulon took his wife inside, shut the door, and remained there for a long time.

  Julia hummed a song as she went about making supper, skinning a squirrel that Albert had brought her. She turned toward the snug little house, nodding approvingly at the smoke that puffed out of the chimney.

  “I always thought Rulon would make a good husband, given the proper chance,” she said under her breath.

  A long time later, Mary opened the door and stepped over the log doorsill, her eyes bright. She looked back into the cabin with her mouth curved into a smile, carefully shut the door, then hurried over to Julia and hugged her.

  “Mis’ Owen, you're a dear sweet lady to let me have the first home.” She laughed, the first time in months. “It really is my first home, and I’m mighty obliged.” Mary shivered in the chill wind that suddenly came through the trees. “Rulon laid a fire. You’d best come inside.”

  “Does he know you’re givin’ this invite?”

  Mary clapped a hand over her mouth and giggled. “No. I’d best warn him you’re coming.”

  Julia laid her hand on Mary’s arm. “Never mind, then. I'll have my own hearth in a few days. You run along and get warm.” She shooed her toward the little house, thinking, You have made a good start, Mary. She smiled. It wouldn't be the first time I’ve seen a son of mine unclothed. But it’s been a long time with Rulon. Not since his baby days.

  ~~~

  When the week was up, Julia had her cabin, larger than Mary’s, with a lean-to kitchen alongside the large fireplace, and a loft divided into two portions.

  Marie and Julianna tugged their big feather bed into the smaller of the rooms, spread it with sheets and a quilt, and then snuggled down into its warmth.

  “Oh-h-h, that feels so good,” said Julianna, shivering her chills away.

  “It’s getting right cold at night,” agreed Marie, pulling the quilt over her head. Then she sat up. “I guess Carl’s going to start on his cabin tomorrow,” she added mournfully.

  “Carl’s getting married. Carl’s getting married,” Julianna sang out, then collapsed in giggles.

  “Hush you,” came her brother's voice through the wall.

  “Save the noise for the shiveree,” called out James.

  “Quiet up there!” thundered Rod Owen from below.

  ~~~

  The weather grew steadily colder as the men continued with the logging. James found his creek, and started cutting logs for a cabin for Ellen. Carl chose the wooded bench with a natural clearing in the center for his home site. An artesian spring rose just below the clearing, which became the headwaters of a little stream that ran to join the creek far below his father’s home. Carl had staked out a homestead that took in both sides of the stream and down into the valley. Ida would favor the cabin being surrounded by trees, snugly tucked into the forest.

  The walls of both cabins were half way to the top, and the Christmas party was ten days away when the good weather broke in late afternoon. White clouds laden with snow rolled down from the mountain summits. A freezing wind blew from the north, forcing Carl, working alone at the cabin, to pull his gray coat collar up around his chin. He saddled Sherando, headed him south, and told the gray gelding, “Take me to Pa’s, boy.”

  The horse started off into the driven needles of snow. Carl hunched his back against the wind, crossed his arms, and stuck his hands beneath them. After a while, the trail lay through the sheltering trees between his cabin site and Rulon’s, but at the end, there was still the meadow to cross.

  Carl halted Sherando before he left the trees to let the horse rest. He dismounted and stamped his feet to restore circulation, beating his hands together to warm them.

  “Sherando boy, this storm can’t last long. I’ve got to get that cabin built before Christmas.” Climbing into the saddle once more, Carl urged the gray into the biting wind. “It’s only a quarter mile,” he told the animal. “It’s mighty cold, but you’re tough, horse.”

  The moaning wind blew his words away as the icy blast hit them. On every side, Carl could see only swirling white ice crystals. He gave the horse its head, trusting its instinct to reach the cabin.

  Sherando moved slowly, fighting the cross wind as it headed west up the meadow. The wind increased and tugged at Carl, almost dislodging him from the horse’s back. Ice caked his hair and snow sifted down into his collar. Then they passed the bulk of Rulon’s cabin on the right, and Sherando changed direction to cross the creek.

  The horse paused at the log bridge spanning the water, and Carl saw that ice was forming at the sides of the stream. He shivered, and urged the tired horse to step onto the bridge.

  “Come on, boy,” he shouted over the keening of the wind. “Them logs are set solid.”

  The gray stepped tentatively onto the slippery surface of the logs, then skittered hurriedly across.

  “That’s a boy,” Carl shouted triumphantly.

  Snatched by the wind, his voice carried to his father’s cabin, and a light shined out into the white yard as the door opened.

  James blocked out the light as he came through the door and caught Carl, who was sliding off the gray’s back.

  James called out, “Clay, grab them reins and take care of the horse. I’ll get Carl into the house.”

  “You’re well nigh froze, son.” His father helped James assist Carl across the doorsill. “That blow came up mighty sudden. It’s a wonder you made it back here.”