by Jim Cox
Chapter Sixteen
Two days later, the travelers arrived in Flat Peaks at sunset. Scar took their mounts to the barn, and after removing the animals’ loads, he gave them a hearty feeding of corn and oats. By the time he got back to the house carrying the carpetbags and a few things from the saddlebags, the women had a fire going and were in the process of cooking supper. “Put the bags in our bedroom, Bart. We’ll separate our things after we eat.”
He was packing clothes for the roundup when Liz called him to eat. The women had prepared a delicious meal of fried potatoes, hominy, sausage, and biscuits. A steaming cup of coffee was sitting by each plate. Betty seemed a little awkward when the three joined hands and Scar said a prayer, but she was beginning to accept the young couple always said a blessing before meals.
During supper, Liz asked Betty a few questions. Where she was from, if she had any family, her age, and if she’d had any schooling. Betty revealed a great deal about herself. She was born and raised in the hill country of Kentucky. Her father didn’t believe in schooling, especially for girls, so she never attended. When she was thirteen, a smallpox epidemic came through the county, killing her entire family…mother, father, and three brothers. Somehow she recovered. A few months after her family died, Betty got pregnant by a young man a few years older than her, and they married. Times were hard, and the young couple couldn’t make ends meet, so when their baby was a year old, they headed west. Betty said they lived in several different locations before moving to Council Bluffs a couple months before that terrible day when she came to see Bart. She said her little boy was four when he was killed, and she’d soon be nineteen.
When Betty had finished telling her life’s story, tears filled her eyes as she sat looking at her food. Liz went for a washcloth to wipe Betty’s face, and Scar offered Betty a glass of water. “Drink this,” he said. “It might help.”
After collecting themselves, Betty and Liz went back to their meal. Scar finished eating a little before the women and was drinking the last of his coffee when he said, “I’ll be leaving before daylight in the morning. I’ll have the coffee ready and the stock fed. I’m taking Maude and Frankie with me.”
“Mr. Carter,” Betty said in an uneasy voice, “I’ll be gone by the time you get back, so I’d like to thank you now for all you’ve done for me. I ain’t sure I’ll ever be able to pay you back.”
“Where are you going, Betty?” Scar asked.
“I ain’t sure, Mr. Carter, but I don’t want to be a burden to you and Liz any longer.”
∙•∙
Liz had been caught completely off guard by Betty’s comments but had composed herself and said, “You’re not going anywhere, Betty, except to the Double D with me after school this Friday.” Liz clearly was not suggesting but mandating that Betty go with her. Scar kept a straight face.
Liz was pouring more coffee when her husband said, “Betty, it’s okay to call me Bart or even Scar if that’s what you prefer. I’m called by both names by my friends.”
Seconds later Betty’s eyes met his. “Sir, if it’s all the same to you, I’ll keep calling you Mr. Carter. I ain’t at ease calling you Bart or Scar, but I still want to be your friend.” He nodded. She accepted his answer with a smile.
Liz remarked, “We may not be getting to the ranch until Saturday morning. Betty and I have a lot to do.”
“What’s on your agenda? What’s going to keep you so busy?” her husband asked. Betty wanted to hear the answer, too. Anticipation was building within Liz. “We’ll have to find something of mine for Betty to wear to school tomorrow. She’ll be going with me, but as soon as the children are dismissed, we’re going to the mercantile to purchase shoes for her along with dress material.” Scar could see his wife’s mind working. “Before we left for Council Bluff,” she said, “I saw bolts of new material that’ll make lovely dresses.” There was a pause. “By the way Betty, do you sew?”
“Yes ma’am, I’ve been making every kind of clothes you can think of since I was knee-high. My ma learned me.”
“Good. Between us, we can have a few dresses made before we leave for the ranch Saturday morning.”
By eight o’clock the next morning, Scar was in the heartland of the Double D ranch following cow and horse tracks leading in a northeasterly direction, which was the way to the branding pits. The rolling terrains he was riding through were covered with succulent, springtime grass which enticed Frankie, who was free to roam as he pleased. Frankie stopped every now and then for a mouthful. Occasionally, Scar stopped Maude for a few minutes to let her graze.
Scar’s mind was on things to come when he heard cows bawling in the distance, but no animal or man was in sight. After topping the next ridge, he saw a couple of riders driving a dozen or so head toward the rising smoke. He headed their way. It was Jake and Tony.
“It’s about time you’re showing up,” Jake called out as Scar rode up. “I imagine you slept in this morning, following the soft city life you’re accustomed to.” Jake rode to the far side of the cows, wearing a grin. Scar fell in beside Tony.
“How’s ranch life treating you, Tony? How do you like the Double D?”
“I like it fine. It took me awhile to settle in, but I’m holding my own now. The ranch folks treat me first class. I’m never referred to as a breed like the people did in Meeker. That means a lot to me, Scar.”
Scar nodded and said, “Remember what I told you, Tony. You’re as fit as any man. Don’t you forget it.”
It was a typical roundup day. Jobs were rotated to keep from straining backs and to prevent boredom. Scar herded cows to the fire pits. He roped hind legs to immobilize the critters for branding and castrating. He handled the branding irons, helped in the castration process, and took a few coffee breaks. Through it all, he spoke with all the men helping in the roundup, including the old members of the Double D and the temporary men hired on to help during this busy time of the year.
It was dusk when the tired, worn out wranglers rode over the creek bridge and headed for the corral. All that was left of their workday was to take care of their horses. Care of a cowhand’s horse was always his first priority. It came before his own welfare. Hooves were examined for loose shoes. Saddles were stripped, which allowed the mounts to go for water and to roll. Then came the feeding. Then the men dusted themselves by pounding their hats on the corral fence before going to the creek to wash with lye soap. Before dinner, with their hats hanging on fence posts, the men wet and finger-combed their hair.
Soon four hungry men sat on each side of the table, with Mr. Douglas at the head and Mrs. Douglas at the foot. Even though the table was full of delicious looking food Morning Sun had prepared, everyone sat in silence with their hands in their laps. They knew the routine. Mr. Douglas would say the blessing before food was passed. After their plates were filled, there was very little conversation until seconds were passed around and eaten. After the third passing of the food platters, Morning Sun removed the dirty dishes and poured more coffee. Then, to everyone’s surprise, she brought out a large pan of peach cobbler. She distributed bowls for the dessert to be spooned into and brought a pitcher of cold, rich cream for its topping.
Soon after the bowls and cups were emptied, Thomas rose and reminded everyone that five o’clock came early, and he suggested the men head for the bunkhouse to get a good night’s sleep. Scar stayed behind and followed Mr. and Mrs. Douglas to their sitting room. They asked about his trip to Council Bluff and about all of its ramifications. Scar told of the Abernathy brothers’ hanging and how Betty fit into the episode. He bragged about Liz’s stamina through the blizzard conditions during the trip. When the subject lulled a bit, Scar asked, “What’s going on between Jake and Rebecca?”
Mr. and Mrs. Douglas both smiled. “It hasn’t been announced, but Jake told us he’s going to propose a couple of weeks before school starts in the fall,” said Mrs. Douglas. “They’re young for marriage, but things will work out. We’re happy for him, Bart. She’s
such a nice young lady.”
“I agree,” Scar responded. “Liz and I like her a lot.”
“I guess you know the bank has offered him a job,” Mr. Douglas said.
“I know it’s been offered, and he’s interested, but I haven’t heard if he’s going to accept it.”
“I told him he should take it, Bart. He’s not cut out to be a rancher. He works hard and never slacks in his duties, but his heart is set on the finer things in life. Books, numbers, and the like. He plans to begin working for the bank a month before he and Rebecca marry.” The sitting room fell silent as all three sat in a nostalgic trance, recalling memories of Jake as a young boy running around town barefooted, wearing ragged, dirty overalls. He rarely combed his hair or bathed. He slept on a layer of hay in Eli’s livery, snuggling up to the potbelly stove during the cold months. A few of the town folks, especially Jenny, kept him fed, but only one person had openly befriended him in spite of his severe stuttering problem. The friend was a drunk by the name of Jug.
Minds were brought back to the present when Mrs. Douglas said, “We may be having another wedding, Bart.” Scar looked surprised. “Is Thomas getting married?”
“No,” she said laughing. “It’ll be Morning Sun and Tony. They haven’t said anything, but I can tell he is sweet on her.”
“I haven’t noticed any goings on,” her husband said.
“It’s a woman thing. Men aren’t observant of these things.” She smiled.
Scar shook his head and smiled at her comment as he rose and headed for the door. “I’d better be going to bed,” he said. “See you in the morning.”
“Aren’t you going to sleep here?” she asked.
“I’ll sleep in the bunkhouse with the men, tonight, Mrs. Douglas. I don’t want to wake you come morning.” A few minutes later, as Scar lay on the bunk above Tony, he wondered what Liz did today. Wish she’d hurry and get here.
Chapter Seventeen
“Let’s go,” Liz said enthusiastically to Rebecca and Betty as the last student left the school building. The three young women put on their coats and hurried for the mercantile. After entering the store, Liz and Rebecca went directly to the bolts of dress material, but Betty hung back, not accustomed to buying dress cloth in a store. She had always remade dresses from what other women had discarded.
“Won’t this make a lovely dress?” Rebecca said as she twirled around holding some beautifully patterned material up to her body. It was pale blue with a pattern of small pink flowers. Betty nodded enthusiastically.
“Will three yards be enough for a dress?” Liz asked Betty. Betty held the material up examining its width.
“Two-and-a-half yards will be plenty. It’s wide material.”
“How about dress patterns, Betty? We’ll need ’em to cut the material to your size,” Rebecca said.
“What’s a dress pattern?” Betty asked.
“It’s pieces of paper made in various body sizes that you can lay on the material and cut around. A woman back east came up with the idea a few years back, and it’s caught on pretty good.”
Betty shook her head. “I don’t need one. I can make the cuts without a pattern.”
After they selected four different bolts of fabrics, they picked out matching thread, buttons, and lace. An hour later, they had purchased two pairs of shoes, a coat with a matching hat, and some personal items. Liz paid, and the ladies headed for Jenny’s Place.
The eyes of two cowhands who were sitting by the stove drinking coffee followed the shapely ladies to the back corner table. The three women could only imagine what was being said when they saw one of the men lean over and whisper something to the other. A minute or two later Jenny and Mrs. Kaiser came from behind the batwings. Jenny joined the ladies at their table. Mrs. Kaiser went for the coffee pot. When she returned, all five women settled around the table, and Betty was formally introduced. Mrs. Kaiser welcomed her and then said rather boldly, “What’s in the bags?”
“Betty’s been shopping. Show the women your new things, Betty,” Rebecca said.
The young woman pulled the things from the bags and laid them on the table. Mrs. Kaiser felt the cloth. “That sure is pretty material. Who’s doing the sewing?”
“I am,” Betty said as she folded the fabric and placed it back into the sack.
“Wish I had the time to make a dress or two; I’m in need of ’em. But when I’m not sleeping, I’m cooking.” The women grinned. There was a short pause before Mrs. Kaiser continued more seriously, “Betty, could you make a couple of dresses for me if I bought the material and patterns?”
“Yes, ma’am, but I wouldn’t need a pattern.”
“How much would you charge?”
“I wouldn’t charge you nothing, Mrs. Kaiser. It’s the neighborly thing to do.”
Time slipped by as the women sat talking. Once, when the mood was right, Liz followed Jenny behind the bat wings and explained Betty’s situation. “Keep me informed, Liz. I’ll help in any way I can. She needs to be pointed in the right direction. Hopefully, she can find something that makes her happy.” Liz thanked her.
The Saturday morning trip to the ranch passed rather quickly as Liz and Betty drove their buggy through a prairie of springtime grass that bore seasonal blooms of all colors. However, it wasn’t the beautiful landscape that made the miles pass quickly, but the constant chatter between the two young women. Betty told Liz more of her life, describing the hard but happy years she had spent with her husband and little boy. She took a deep breath occasionally to control her emotions, but on the whole, she was doing much better and was beginning to talk about her loss.
Betty still struggled when the conversation shifted to her future.
It was apparent she had no idea what she would do to earn a living, so Liz refocused Betty’s thoughts by saying it was too soon to be thinking about her livelihood, that something would develop, given time.
Liz told Betty of her own background, of her family’s travel by river from the Carolinas to St. Louis, Missouri, and from there to Colorado in a wagon train. She told of the grueling three months in the wagon and what life on the trail west was like. She told Betty about the Indian attacks and how guards had to be posted at night, and about finding Bart unconscious, lying on the ground, tethered to his mule.
Liz also told Betty about Thomas and Jake, who she’d soon be meeting at the ranch. She told her Jake was an orphan boy who’d once been called Stu because of his severe stuttering and Thomas had been a lawyer back east before coming west and becoming a successful cattleman and landholder until he gambled and drank his way into misfortune. The bank repossessed all of his holdings, and his wife and children moved back east. Shortly after she left him, his drinking problem got the best of him, and he became the town drunk, known as Jug. Liz went on to tell how her mother and father had taken both Jake and Thomas under their wings and got them straightened out to become highly respected men.
The women were an hour from the Double D homestead when Liz brought up the subject of schooling with Betty. “You told me your father didn’t think it was necessary for girls to go to school, Betty. Has anyone given you lessons in reading or writing? Do you know anything about it at all?”
“No, ma’am. I don’t even know how to write my name.” Liz reached for the girl’s hand.
“Would you like to learn how to read and write?”
“I don’t know if I’m capable of learning,” Betty said with downcast eyes.
“Let me tell you about Jake. He couldn’t read or write either when he came to the ranch with us. He didn’t think he was smart enough to learn, but…” Liz went on to tell Betty how Jake had grasped reading and writing in a short period of time and now was a man of letters and practically a whiz at mathematics.
When their buggy crossed the Indian trace and climbed the last hill, they stopped. The sight was breathtaking. Liz turned to Betty and said, “That’s the Double D’s homestead, Betty.”
The afternoon lazily pas
sed as the women drank coffee and talked about various topics, from Colorado’s statehood, the country’s new president, the women’s right to vote debate, and Bart’s potential assignment to the state cabinet. Of course, they also discussed Jake and Rebecca’s wedding at great length. Liz and her mother did most of the talking, but Betty chimed in a time or two. Morning Sun, who had been quiet the entire time, rose and started for the kitchen to begin her evening chores, but she turned back and said in a firm voice, “Scarred Warrior has treated me well. No, let white chiefs far away speak their lies.” The three white women nodded their agreement.
A short time later, Betty excused herself and went upstairs to unpack her things. Liz stayed back and explained Betty’s misfortune to her mother. Afterward, they both joined Betty upstairs.
Liz removed Betty’s new dress from the closet and showed it to her mother. “Isn’t this a beautiful dress Betty made, Mamma? Look at the stitching. Didn’t she do a good job?”
Mrs. Douglas examined the stitching in several places before handing it back to Liz. “You do lovely work, Betty. I’ve never seen better.” The comment made the girl blush.
Long shadows were cast by the time the men crossed the bridge and headed for the corral. The horses’ heads were hanging. The men looked exhausted. Liz sat on the porch waiting for her husband while her mother and Betty helped Morning Sun put the last touches on supper.
The ranch talk lingered a little longer than normal after their meal that night since tomorrow was Sunday and everyone knew chores would be kept to a minimum. Only the feeding and other necessary work would need to be done. They talked about the progress of the roundup and predicted the drive of their stock to the Henry James’ spread would take place the last week of May. “What’s your latest calculation on the number we’ll be selling, Thomas?” Scar asked.
“I figure we’ll cull out three hundred head of older bulls and cows this year and have at least twenty-two hundred head of young stuff,” he answered.