by Marsha Ward
Carl hunkered down on the edge of the creek and dipped the buckets into the water. He set them out of harm’s way, then settled down to watch the ripples in the creek as the water flowed over the pebbly bottom.
Ellen watched him from the corner of her eye. He looked determined, pursing his lips in thought as he gazed into the stream, apparently studying out what he had to say. He tossed a stone into the flow, glanced quickly at her, and directed his gaze again to the water.
When he began to talk, his voice was so low that Ellen had to strain to listen, leaning forward a little to catch every word.
“I ain’t got much time, and I’ve got a lot to say. Reckon I’d best start.” He looked around once more, then looked her in the eyes. “Ever since that night we had the dance on the river, and you fell into my arms off that wagon, I been mighty unrestful in my soul. I thought I had a girl to share my life. I was wrong.”
He gulped once, then continued. “When I held you against me, and felt your heart a-pounding away, I knew I was a ring-tailed double fool for sticking with Ida. But I’d given my word, and I was stuck with Pa’s choice.”
He stopped a moment and shifted his weight. “After we went our ways to settle, I figured things would get better for me. I hoped I’d get some sleep, not have nightmares, what with all the hard work I was doing. I made my plans and built my house, and I got excited about getting wed. Then Ida took me by the tail and threw me out the door. I thought I was going to die, I was that prideful. But you were there, like a ray of light on a foggy morning.”
He looked at her face, and she could see sweat beading his forehead, even in the chill of twilight.
“Shoot, I’m just going on and on. The important thing is, I got to see what a man rarely finds out before he’s wed. You got a backbone of pure steel inside that soft form of yours.”
Ellen felt her face burning in the evening darkness. She put a hand to her cheek. It was warm, and she knew she was blushing. Peeking back at Carl, she saw that he had stretched out on the ground on his side, with his elbow supporting his cheek, as though he were exhausted from the effort of talking.
“I ain’t done,” he whispered, and sat upright again, in one quick motion. “Now I got the freedom from Ida I need to court you, your pa says I can’t call. He says only James has that right, and he ain’t made it clear to your pa what his mind is. What I want to know before I go away for a couple of months is, do I have anything to look forward to on your account? If I can talk James into thinking he don’t really want you after all, and then do whatever task your pa sets for me, are you willing for me to call?”
Ellen sat with her hands on her cheeks, wondering what to reply. Then she softly opened her heart to him as frankly as he had to her.
“Carl, I reckon I been willing for you to call from the day you plucked me out of the muddy street in Mount Jackson and cussed me from head to toe. I’ll pray you can use that silver tongue for some good on James, and that my pa comes around to my way of thinking.”
The last light faded, but Ellen knew Carl was still nearby from the deep breathing she could hear. Then she heard him stand up.
“I reckon that’ll hold me for a couple of months,” Carl said. “I’ll carry your water to Rulon’s.”
She followed in the darkness, and he waited for her at the door, setting the pails on the bench. Then she was enfolded in his arms, and he embraced her tenderly as he whispered in her ear, “Ellen Bates, I love you!”
Then he was gone, his footsteps fading into the satin darkness.
Ellen shook herself free from the memory, then washed her face with the water Carl had dipped up the night before. Tying on her apron, she went to the fireplace and thrust another chunk of wood into the flames, for today he was truly gone, and the air in the cabin felt cold and damp.
~~~
The grizzled old man in the wide-brimmed hat shook his head. “I cain’t figure how you aim to get them cows past the Comanches and Kiowas in the Panhandle. They’ll grab up them cattle soon as they see you coming. You’re a crazy man to try trailing cattle with the Indians all stirred up.”
“I reckon that’s my gamble. All I want is some hands willing to make the trip.” Rod slapped his hand down on his thigh. “I always heard a Texas man was full of courage. I only need five or six fellers to prove me right.”
The old man removed his hat and scratched his head, reseated his hat, and took a swig from the glass on the table. He looked Rod over once more, then nodded. “Then I reckon you need to see Bill Henry. He’s got him an outfit looking to hire out, but work’s mighty scarce around here. Well,” he shook his head again, “work ain’t scarce, but money sure is.”
“What’s his experience with these longhorn critters?”
“He’s trailed them a good mite, and he’s a hard worker. I’d say his bad luck is your good fortune.”
“Where do I find him?”
“Ask after him down at the livery stable. His cousin will know how to get a-hold of him.” Sucking on his yellowed teeth, the man looked once more at Rod. “Well, I wish you luck. And keep your eyes open for the Carpetbaggers. They come down here with some new law called ‘Reconstruction’, and they’re ‘reconstructing’ the whole countryside into their own pockets. They’s made laws agin any man who fit for Davis and the Cause. You tread light here in town.”
“I thank you for the warning.”
Rod took his leave and sought out the information he needed from the stable hand.
The quiet young man in the patched shirt shifted his feet. “Bill Henry? You say you got work for him? He’ll be mighty tickled to hear it. Things ain’t gone so well for him of late. He’s coming in to town tonight, and I’ll bring him up to the hotel about suppertime. We’ll meet you in the dining room.”
~~~
That evening, Rod and Rulon took a table in the back of the dining room and ordered steak and beans. Carl and Albert occupied the table beside the outer door, while James and Clay sat in a corner against the window wall, where they could see everyone who entered from the hotel lobby.
“Why does Pa want us all spread out like this?” Albert asked Carl before he wolfed down a bite of steak.
“He’s a mite cautious, as usual. That old codger warned him about the laws down here. The sooner we hire on a crew of herders and light a shuck for home, the better I’ll feel.” Carl paused to spear a chunk of steak. “I hope this Henry feller can take the job. Being in a state where a man’s got no rights makes me a mite cautious, too.”
“Can them Unionists stop us from taking our cattle out of here?”
Carl spoke low. “I reckon them low-life carpetbaggers make up the rules as they go along, especially if they see a profit in doing it.”
“I favor that Henry feller getting here with a powerful yearning to travel on with us. We come too far with Ma’s gold to see any Yankees make off with the cows she bought.” Albert sat up straight. “That there’s the stable hand coming up the walk, and he’s got another feller with him.”
Bob and Bill Henry came through the door of the dining room, Bill brushing the dust of the road from his sleeves. He had light brown hair that curled over his shirt collar, and blue eyes that flicked around the room and settled on Rod, at the rear table.
From his seat two feet away, Carl looked over the powerfully built Texan. He wore a moustache that drooped over the sides of his mouth. His face, shaded by a hat with a wide brim, was brown and unseamed, and Carl guessed he was at least two years older than himself. Judging from the bulge of muscles in his thighs, he had spent most of those years on a horse.
The man spoke to his cousin in a low voice, “I reckon that’s the fellow with the cows and no savvy on moving them. Let’s go see what he has in mind.”
~~~
Bill Henry swaggered across the room like he owned the whole of West Texas. His cousin Bob followed after, and came up to the table as Rod rose to his feet.
Bob nodded to Rod. “Mr. Owen, this here’s my cousin, Bi
ll Henry.”
“Sit down, gentlemen. Can I offer you supper?” At the nod of the young man before him, Rod waved in the direction of the kitchen. “Two more places at this table,” he called out.
Bill Henry sat down, and leaned back in his chair. “I heard you’re looking for a trail boss and some hands to move cattle.” His blue eyes never looked over at Rulon, but gazed straight into Rod’s.
“I bought a herd, something over 1400 cows. I reckon I need help to get it to the Colorado Territory. I’ve raised dairy cattle all my life, but these longhorns are a different breed. I need a good man to show me and my five boys the proper handling of this herd. If that man was willing to stay up in Colorado and show us the rest of the beef cattle business, I reckon he’d be the right man for the job.”
“You say there’s six of you?” Bill tipped back his hat with one finger. “I know cattle trailing as good as any other man, and I know the rest of the business, but I ain’t so sure about leaving Texas for good. I’m a Texas man born and bred.”
“Well, I’m offering twenty-five dollars a month and room and board for the man who’ll come with me and stay on to settle nearby. We got us a place of trees and meadows, grass a plenty, and water enough for all the cattle we can bring. You look like a canny man, and if what you tell me about yourself is true, you’re the man for me.”
Bill Henry frowned and sat up in his chair. “Seeing as how you’re just come to Texas, I won’t take that for insult. Out here we don’t question what a man says he can do. A man’s word is all he has, sometimes, and if he can’t tell the truth about himself, he won’t last long.”
Rod grinned. “I thank you for not taking offense at my mistake. I reckon I’m still a little green around the edges, in spite of my gray hairs.”
Bill cracked a thin smile. “You’re a fair man to admit it. I figure you’ll do. If your place is as green as you say, no offense meant, I could settle there while you learn the business.”
“No offense taken. Do we have a deal?”
“Thirty dollars a month for me as trail boss, and twenty-five for the rest of the hands.” Bill sat back in his chair and waited.
“Thirty for you?” Rod considered the matter for a moment, then shrugged one shoulder. “Deal.”
“I reckon you bought horses? We’ll take my cousin here as horse wrangler. I’ve got another prime hand in my outfit—Chico Henderson—and Sourdough Smith, who is a mighty fine cook, even if he is a little long in the tooth. Sourdough used to trap up in Colorado Territory, and he said he wouldn’t mind seeing it again. We could use a couple more men, but if you’re in a hurry, we can do it shorthanded.”
“My boys are steady workers and fast learners, but if you think we need more men, hire them. We have to pick up the herd on Tuesday. Oh yes, I bought a hundred horses with the herd. I figure that should keep us mounted across West Texas and up the Pecos.”
“You’re not going through the Panhandle?”
“Too many Indians driving off stock up that way. We’ll go the same way we came, through West Texas and up the Pecos in the New Mexico Territory.”
“You remember coming through the Staked Plains? How do you figure to get cows across that desert?”
“As fast as I can. I figure we’ll lose some there, but it’s better than losing the whole herd to the Indians in the Panhandle.”
“You’re the boss, but I have my doubts about your choice of trails.”
Rod’s grin split his beard. A waitress brought two more platters to the table. “Like you said, I’m the boss. Get your crew and meet me at the Davis ranch early on Tuesday. Here’s your food, boys. Eat hearty.” Rod settled back in his chair and resumed eating.
~~~
“I tell you, Berto, it’s them same tenderfeet we laid for out of Kansas City, them as drove us off from that little camp in the crick. I’d know that old man anywhere.” Willy took a long slug of water from the canteen. “‘Course he didn’t see me in the back of the room, but now that I shaved my beard, he ain’t likely to know me anyhow.”
“And this man wants to hire cowhands, you say?” Berto Acosta looked around at his henchmen and tossed his cigar into the fire.
“Jellico told him to look up Bill Henry, but he’s only got that old cook and Henderson with him, and maybe his cousin. The tenderfoot’s going to need more hands than that.”
“Are the sons with him?” Acosta asked, stroking his scarred right cheekbone with his forefinger.
“I counted five.”
“And the hot-head, he is one of them?” The Mexican’s grin chilled Willy’s heart.
“He’s there.”
“I wonder where is that girl he fought for?”
“I asked around. They came down from Colorado.”
Acosta stood up and looked around the group. “Amigos, we have to make a little trip to Colorado, a business trip. Tilden, Dawes, you will go into town tomorrow and hire on with this man. You will get word to Willy at the saloon of when you leave and what route you will take. We will follow behind, and when the work is done, we will take the herd and have our revenge. And amigos,” he threw back his head and laughed. “There is such a girl as you have never seen, a white goddess to enjoy, when the job is completed. It will be worth every mile!”
“That little dark-haired one is the filly I fancy,” leered Rankin.
“I got first call on the one with the fight, that red-headed gal.” Willy rubbed his chin. “I figure to tame her.”
“If I got to eat trail dust and smell longhorns, I reckon I’ll take a share,” mumbled Frank Tilden, wolfing down his beans.
Pete Dawes ate a biscuit, his piercing blue eyes staring into the fire. When he had swallowed, he turned to Acosta. “Colorado’s a far piece. You aim to get more than revenge out of this drive?”
“We will sell the herd after we take it from those tenderfeet. The cows will bring much money. There is more than pleasure to be had.” Berto frowned. “You must gain their confidence. You must be trusted. Work hard, and do not complain. You will get a just reward, I promise you.”
Chapter 18
Carl decided that riding drag on a herd of ornery, mean-minded, long-legged, slab-sided cows was the most punishing and dangerous job he’d ever attempted. Getting the long-horned critters used to the idea of grazing all in one direction took every bit of his concentration, and a good deal of muscle, besides. He saw why Bill Henry rotated the cowhands to different positions every day.
As they crossed the great dry desert west of Centralia Draw, the bitter alkali dust stirred up by thousands of hooves rose in clouds to choke the men and coat their bodies with briny white powder. Water barrels ran low, canteens were sucked dry, and thirst added to the cowhands’ misery as they fought to keep the weaker cattle moving with the rest.
Bill Henry rode back from the head of the herd to speak with Rod.
“We won’t bed the cattle down tonight. We’ve got to keep them moving toward the Pecos.”
“The men are tired.”
“It can’t be helped. There’s no water until we hit the river, and if you want to save your herd, you’ve got to keep them on their feet.”
Rod let his breath out in a rush. “I’ll tell the men back here.”
“I’m headed up the other side to spread the word.” Bill rode off, white dust following his trail.
~~~
Later on in the day, the cows bawled and moaned for water. Their tongues, coated with the roiling alkali dust, lolled from their mouths. Their ribs began to protrude from sunken sides like the bars of a wrought-iron window grill, and the suffering of the animals caused friction to surface among the men.