Riding the River (The Westerners, Book One)

by Jeanne Harrell

A driver from the guest ranch picked her up promptly at nine the next morning. Sarah was excited to get on the road. He announced to her, as he helped her in the van, that he had a few other people to pick up on the way, but not for thirty minutes or so.

  Driving along for a while, neither of them was a chatterbox. Finally, he broke the ice.

  “I’m Dan, by the way.”

  “Sarah.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Baltimore?”

  He whistled. “Wow, you’ve come a long ways.”

  “Yes, I’m pretty excited to be here.”

  “What’s life like in Baltimore?” He slid his eyes over to her. She’d insisted on sitting in the front with him. He took in her slacks and hair in a bun. Pretty girl. Out of her element…

  “Well, where do I start? It’s a port city, right on the water.”

  “What water?”

  “…The Patapsco River, an arm of the Chesapeake Bay.”

  “Good seafood?”

  “The best…”

  A pause as they both thought of what else to say.

  “… What do you do at the ranch?”

  “I’m the driver for guests. Anyone needs to go anywhere, I’m their man.”

  “Sounds like it doesn’t get boring.”

  “No, ma’am. What do you do in Baltimore?”

  “I’m a computer consultant. I help new companies get up and running with their computer needs.”

  “That’s a mouthful.”

  “You bet.”

  “Looking forward to an Old West experience?”

  She sighed. “Oh, very much.”

  He looked at her and caught her meaning.

  “Trouble at your end?” She blushed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to get personal.”

  Sarah blew out a breath and rubbed her eyes. “That’s okay. Yes, I’ve had some trouble. That’s why I came out here.”

  “… To escape for a bit?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They both thought about that.

  “Would you like a little friendly advice?”

  “Actually, I would. You know this area and I don’t.”

  He gave her a hard look. “Park your ego at the door.”

  “… My ego?”

  “Yep. Don’t be afraid to try anything that comes your way.”

  “Okay.”

  “And I mean anything. You’ll have plenty of choices in activities. Try them all. You just don’t know what can help you.”

  “You wouldn’t be a shrink, would you?”

  They both laughed and he scratched his chin.

  “No, ma’am, but I’ve seen others come out here and still act like they’re back home.”

  “Do anything, huh?”

  “Yes, ma’am… Riding, roping, branding, drives, whatever.”

  “… Think that’ll cure what ails me?” She smiled.

  “Nice turn of phrase and yes, I believe it will.”

  He looked over at her again. She looked at the hands in her lap. Needs a bit of confidence, this one…

  “…Um…”

  “Listen, Sarah. Open up that glove box there in the dash, would you?”

  “Sure…” She opened it. “What am I doing?”

  “Fish around for a metal object and pick it up.”

  Sarah groped around in the mess of paper, receipts, books, and what felt like something metallic.

  “This is metal.”

  “Yup, that’s it.”

  “What should I do with it?” She held it up for them both to see.

  “It’s yours…”

  “Ah… You’re giving me a… horseshoe?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Whatever for?”

  Dan smiled at her. “For luck, of course.”

  “For luck.”

  “Yup.”

  “Is it going to be that tough an experience at the guest ranch that you need to wish me luck?”

  “I think,” he turned to look at her, “that you really need some luck in your life right now.”

  “You think?” smiled Sarah. She glanced at his sandy beard and twinkling eyes.

  “Anytime you start to fret, you pick up that horseshoe… It’ll help.”

  “… A horseshoe?”

  “It’s a talisman for good luck. Make sure you hold it with the ends pointing upward?”

  “Upward?”

  “Yup.”

  “Who are you really?”

  “Just a driver, ma’am,” he laughed. “…Just a driver.”

  “I sincerely doubt that.”

  And then he pulled over to another hotel to pick up a few more people. Their personal conversation came to an end, but she remembered to thank him once they arrived at the guest ranch. It would mean more to her than he could have imagined.

  Sarah relaxed, watching the countryside go by her window as Dan drove along Highway 80 out of Reno. She smiled. It was almost like the big country in her Gregory Peck movie. Mountains and hills in the distance with the highway pointing off into the far horizon… The sky, jam-packed with massive clouds covered most of her view. She’d never seen a sky that big.

  The scenery was huge and expansive with few towns to see. Dan announced after a few hours that he would stop for gas in Winnemucca, so they could stretch their legs and have some lunch. It was reminiscent of stopping to change the horses. When she stepped out of the van, she looked around at the old Western town in front of her. She felt much like Gregory Peck probably had as he stepped from the stagecoach – She too was from Baltimore and wearing strange Eastern clothes.

  Sarah looked down at her tailored slacks and Italian blouse, and swore she’d put on something more appropriate as soon as possible. Dan had stopped at a nice café in the downtown area. Several townspeople gawked at her as she smoothed the pleats in her slacks – Or she thought they gawked at her… Maybe she was overthinking the whole scene. Too many Western movies…

  Over lunch, Dan discussed what they’d see next on their journey. Sarah felt like she was crossing a new threshold in her life. Her eyes shone and she couldn’t wait.

  “There are only two more towns before we get to Wells: Battle Mountain and Elko,” said Dan.

  “Strange name, Battle Mountain. What’s that about?” asked a man who had been sitting behind Sarah in the van.

  “Battle Mountain has a long, distinguished history,” said Dan. “First it was a waypoint west for pioneers on the Emigrant Trail, and then a railroad town to help with the mining activity.”

  “What was mined here?” asked Sarah.

  “Copper and gold. Just gold now…”

  “What’s with the name?”

  Dan laughed. “No one really knows. The town sits on the valley floor and there’s been no battle nearby.” Everyone laughed at that.

  He paused while they all ate more of their lunches. He continued when Sarah looked over at him.

  “And Elko?”

  “Another strange name,” said the same man.

  “That one is better explained,” began Dan. “Elko is a Shoshoni Indian word for ‘rocks piled on one another’.” He laughed. “Look around. You’ll probably still see evidence of that name.”

  “Was it also along some pioneer trail?” asked a woman who’d been sitting in the back of the van.

  “Yes, ma’am. It lies along the route of the California Trail, later becoming a railroad town. It’s big on ranching, gold mining and rail freight.”

  Sarah thought about that while munching her salad. Something was nagging her, some partially remembered thought. What was it?

  “Dan,” began Sarah. She wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Isn’t there a story about Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid being here in Winnemucca? Some bank robbery, maybe?”

  Dan laughed. “Right you are, Sarah.” Everyone leaned in to hear this one. “The Hole in the Wall Gang, includin
g Butch and Sundance share one of the most exciting moments in Winnemucca history… The Gang came here to rob the local bank. The story goes that Butch put a knife to the bank president’s throat and ordered him to open the safe.”

  “How much did they get?” asked the lady by Sarah.

  “$2,000 in gold coin.” Someone whistled.

  “That was a lot of money back then.”

  “A lot now…” someone added.

  Dan continued. “It’s a great story, but we’re not sure that it’s all true.”

  “Why is that, Dan?” asked Sarah.

  “The Pinkerton Detective Agency found a picture of the Gang in a photographer’s display window in Ft. Worth, Texas. They sent it to the banker to see if he could identify who robbed him. He wasn’t able to ID Butch Cassidy as one of the men who robbed him.”

  Everyone leaned back and smiled.

  “I love these Old West stories,” said the man next to Dan. “They’re so colorful and interesting…”

  “Anyway,” continued Dan, “that was good enough for the town and they’ve always claimed that Butch did indeed rob the bank here, back in 1900.”

  “Great story,” smiled Sarah. Dan winked at her.

  After traveling through Battle Mountain and Elko, it was another hour to Wells and then a bit more out to the ranch. Bouncing along the gravel road, Sarah knew her point of no return was when she saw the sign -- Walker Ranch. It was on a huge metal gate, stretching across the road with a wagon wheel emblem. She was a very long ways from Baltimore and her destination in the big country had come at last.

  * * *

  CHAPTER EIGHT