by Jim Cox
The clan had finished eating the noon meal and was still at the table waiting for their cups to be refilled when they heard someone ride up. Mr. Douglas opened the door to the sheriff. “Howdy, Sheriff. Morning Sun is pouring coffee. Would you like a cup?”
“I sure would,” the sheriff said. Mr. Douglas took his coat and hat. “I’m chilled to the bone.”
After the lawman took a chair by the stove, Mr. Douglas asked, “What brings you to the Double D? I can tell you have something on your mind, Sheriff. What is it?”
The lawman’s forehead furrowed as he answered, “Rebecca plans to catch a stage for St. Louis later this week,” he said, looking at Douglas. “She wanted to come out herself and say her goodbyes, but she couldn’t get up the nerve, so she sent me. She didn’t want you to find out of her leaving through gossip you’d hear at your Thanksgiving party next week.” Everyone’s eyes went from the sheriff to Jake, but his face was expressionless.
Liz quickly thought of the school children. She remembered the doubts and concern the parents had when she turned over the teaching position to Rebecca, and now another change was coming. She also remembered the ache she felt when she and Bart vacated their house in Flat Peaks for Rebecca and moved to the ranch. Of course, at that time everyone thought Rebecca and Jake were getting married.
“Will Rebecca be coming back?” Liz asked hopefully. The sheriff shook his head. “What about the school? Are the children left without a teacher?”
“Her plans have been in the works for a couple of weeks. She talked to the town board and told them she would stay until a replacement could be found, which she expected to take four to six months, but they were able to hire a teacher on very short notice. The new teacher will arrive soon and will be introduced to the children.”
Morning Sun poured more coffee. The sheriff continued, “Rebecca said to tell you that you’re wonderful people, that you’ve treated her like family, and her decision to leave was the hardest thing she’s ever had to do. I’m not supposed to say this, but things changed for her after Jake’s injury.” The sheriff looked with sincerity at Jake. “We’re not blaming you, Jake, neither Rebecca nor me. It didn’t work out.”
Jake struggled to his feet and said, “Sheriff, I didn’t treat Rebecca right after I got hurt. I was all wrapped up in self-pity and was only thinking of myself. Please tell her I’m sorry for the way I acted toward her. I’m ashamed of myself.” He sat back down. His eyes were wet.
Words became scarce as the cups were emptied. Then the sheriff nodded his goodbye and went to his horse. Everyone watched until he disappeared beyond the valley hill, not wanting to accept what they’d been told.
»»•««
The winter weather of 1877 was much worse than in previous years. Heavy snowstorms and extreme cold temperatures came the week following Thanksgiving and hadn’t let up yet through February. Snow on the ground was nearly three feet deep, with many drifts above one’s head.
The Double D folks were worried. They knew their herd was in danger and many of their cows would die of starvation. The stock had not been able to dig for grass through the deep snow since the first of January, so the herd had left the grassland and sought shelter in various wooded places or on the east side of the vertical cliffs out of the wind.
Following breakfast each morning, the men readied themselves to haul hay to the cows to keep as many alive as possible. Sleigh runners had been fastened onto the bottom of the wagons’ wheels to keep them afloat and provide easy mobility. After the wagons were loaded, they were hauled to each of the cow’s nine hideouts. This ritual took place every three days. The horses in the horseshoe corral received a half load every other day. Hauling hay was a difficult task, but one that could not be avoided if they were to save the ranch. Their travel had to follow terrains of shallow or packed-down snow to prevent the horses from getting bogged down.
One morning after the four men had loaded their wagons, Thomas said to no one in particular, “At the rate we’re hauling hay, we’ll run out in less than a month.” The men paused with questions written on their faces. Despite the concern, the wagon drivers pulled out, heading for the cows.
Within two hours, Scar and Tony were near where the cows were standing. The hungry animals started to approach the wagon. As the wagon passed the cows, they fell in behind, following it to the feeding area where the hay was emptied along a two-hundred-yard path. Both men felt helpless as they gazed upon cows with washboard ribs and skin hanging from their protruding bones. Some cows were so emaciated and weak they had difficulty moving out of the way of the wagon as it passed by. After the hay had been unloaded, Scar counted thirty-seven dead carcasses in the immediate area. Many yards to the north, five wolves had red, bloodstained muzzles as they stood over a cow’s torn open body.
Several miles to the northwest, Mr. Douglas and Thomas were experiencing a similar dilemma. It was during this time Mr. Douglas committed himself to finding a better solution to the needs of the Double D stock during severe winters.
Two weeks later, as Thomas predicted, the Double D’s hay was nearly gone. They added an extra day between feedings, but even with additional rationing, the hay would be gone in ten days. The temperature remained several degrees below freezing, maintaining the deep snow levels.
During an especially cold snowy day, when everyone was sitting around the supper table in depressed silence, Douglas spoke up. “I’ll be going to Flat Peaks first thing in the morning to find out if any of the ranchers have hay for sale.”
Mrs. Douglas’ body stiffened. “It’s too dangerous, Herb,” his wife spoke up sternly. “A horse can’t walk through this snow. I don’t want you to attempt it. Besides, there won’t be any hay for sale. Everyone needs it for their own stock.”
“You’re probably right about the hay, Alice, but I’ve got to try. It’s our only chance to keep the stock alive if the weather doesn’t break. I agree a horse can’t make it through the snow, so I’ll walk. I’ll wear snowshoes.” Everyone at the table looked at Mrs. Douglas’ alarmed expression.
Morning Sun let a minute or two go by before she rose to get the coffee pot. While she was pouring, Scar spoke. “I think you should stay here, Mr. Douglas. Let me make the trip. I have younger legs, and besides that, I need to send a telegram.”
“Count me in. I’ll be going with him,” Tony quickly interjected.
Nothing more was said at the table about the trip, but in their bedroom that evening Liz voiced her concern. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart,” her husband said. “There’s nothing to worry about.” But she did worry. She knew the trip would be extremely hazardous and while lying wide-eyed in bed, every imaginable danger surfaced in her mind. It was after midnight when Liz finally slept.
Morning Sun had two filled plates on the table when the men entered the kitchen a couple hours before sunrise the next morning.
On the end of the table were two leather bags she’d packed with large portions of food items. Hardtack, fried steak, biscuits, and a small paper bag of coffee grounds. She also included two tin cups inside a coffee pot and several pieces of paper to start fires with.
The men had eaten and were busy putting on layers of their traveling clothes when Mr. Douglas walked in. After Morning Sun had poured him coffee, he said to the young men, “You be careful.” His voice was stern but fatherly. “And, don’t take any chances. If you find the conditions too difficult, come back home. We’ll make other plans. I’d rather lose the entire herd than lose one of you.” The men nodded. Unbeknownst to the people in the kitchen, who thought the rest of the household was asleep, a young woman was lying in bed in an upstairs bedroom wiping tears and trying to control her sobs.
The men fastened their snowshoes snugly and hung the leather bag straps around their necks. Nodding their goodbyes, they stepped outside into a strong blast of frigid wind carrying sideways snowflakes so thick it was nearly impossible to see. The temperature was well below zero. They raised their sheepskin coat collars, pul
led the doubled wool scarves that hung from under their hats across their faces, and with only their eyes exposed, they started out. The men agreed to alternate the lead position every twenty minutes. This procedure would provide a packed down path for the one following and shield him from the head-on wind, easing his travel a bit. The big man took the first lead.
Scar looked at his compass. They were going in the right direction, due south. He had started to think they were off course when he didn’t see the Indian Trace. Walking in snowshoes was slow. Minutes later, they descended the ridge and crossed the trail he’d been looking for.
They had not walked long after crossing the trace when Scar’s right snowshoe broke through the snow’s surface, causing his leg to drop down into three feet of snow. Scar had the wind knocked out of him as he fell forward, twisting his torso. Tony hurried to give assistance, but even with his help, it was a struggle for Scar to raise his snowshoe and get back on sound footing. After he was back on his feet, Tony said, “We need to follow the ridge tops, Scar. The wind will be stronger, but most likely it has blown a good deal of the snow away, leaving a packed down surface with less snow depth. The trip will be longer, but it’ll be much safer.”
Scar nodded his approval and motioned for Tony to take the lead. They headed out. Each step sent a jabbing pain up Scar’s right side and lower back, but he continued the pace. It was obvious Tony had more experience walking in snowshoes, seeming to slide along over the surface rather than lifting his snowshoes with each step like Scar. It wasn’t long before he copied Tony’s technique and skidded along with him, stride for stride.
Dark overhead clouds shadowed the sun, causing their day to remain a dull gray with the never-ending cold, snowy wind. The weather conditions were brutal, making travel next to impossible, but the men stayed their course, keeping to the ridge tops. The unfamiliar stride made their legs sore. Their fingers and feet were numb from the extreme cold. They adhered strictly to their plan to stop every twenty minutes for a short rest and exchange lead positions.
By the time they reached the tree line following the stream angling from the northeast mountains to Flat Peaks, it was late morning. It was only the halfway point of their journey, and they had already walked for four hours. They found an area nearly void of snow beneath a cluster of trees and built a fire. It wasn’t long before the water from the creek was boiling, and pieces of fried steak were heating. Tony and Scar each ate two biscuit-and-steak sandwiches and drank three cups of coffee, all the time staying hunkered close to the fire warming their hands and feet. After a thirty minute rest, they stood up to embark on the last half of their day’s agonizing travel.
Eli was leaning back in his chair next to the potbelly stove when two men, covered in ice from head to toe, including their faces and beards, walked through the livery door. It took a minute for Eli to figure out who they were. “What in the world are you two doing out in weather like this? You look like you’re frozen. Get those clothes off down to your underdrawers and stand close to the stove. It’ll warm you up in a hurry.” The men started with their snowshoes and were soon undressed, standing by the fire like Eli had instructed. The old man headed for the coffee pot on top of the stove. “Here, drink this,” he said. “It’ll help warm up your insides.” Thirty minutes later the men were feeling much better and took chairs close to the stove.
When Eli was satisfied Scar and Tony had warmed themselves sufficiently, he asked with a voice of concern, “What brings you two out on a day like this? Is someone sick at the Double D? How’d you get here, anyway? Horses can’t wade through this snow.”
The big man smiled. “No one’s sick at the Double D, Eli, and we didn’t ride horses…we snow-shoed.”
Eli looked dumbfounded. “Then why did you come to town?”
“To buy hay,” Scar answered.
“You’re either crazy or fools. There ain’t been hay for sale around here for a month. Every rancher in this part of the country I’ve talked to has been on the lookout for hay to keep his cows from starving, but to my knowledge, they’ve all given up.” Eli took another swallow of coffee and then said, “It don’t look good, Scar. I know of a few ranchers who have already lost their entire herds, and even the ranches like the Henry James, who had a considerable amount of hay put up, are in danger of losing theirs if we don’t get some relief from this weather soon. Everyone’s praying for enough of their cows to survive, so they can start up again. I imagine some ranchers will have to sell; they’re borrowed to the hilt from the bank.” Eli turned to get wood from the pile behind the stove.
After he had put three pieces in the stove and closed its door, Tony said to no one in particular, “I guess it means we made the trip for nothing.” All three men knew the answer.
“Mind if we sleep here tonight, Eli?” Scar asked. “We’ll study on things tomorrow.” Eli gave his answer with a wave of his hand toward the floor by the stove.
The travelers ate by the fire that evening with Eli who had provided a large pot of stew and cornbread. In spite of being exhausted from the day’s travel, Scar was wide-eyed for a time after lying down for the night. His thoughts were on the difficult times ahead for the Double D.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The smell of food cooking met Scar and Tony as they entered Jenny’s Café the next morning. It was fifteen minutes short of six o’clock when they took a table close to the fire in the empty room. As usual, the large two-gallon coffee pot sat on top of the stove, so Scar filled their cups. Sounds of pots and pans banging around behind the bat wings indicated Jenny and Mrs. Kaiser were getting ready for the upcoming patrons. It wasn’t long before Jenny swung the batwings open for a look.
The women said their hellos and got caught up on the Double D news before customers started coming in. The sheriff was among them. Scar called him over.
“I sure wasn’t expecting to see you men. What brings you to town?” the sheriff said, as he shook hands. Scar explained their reason was to buy hay. The sheriff, looking dejected, echoed Eli’s words about the shortage of hay on the surrounding ranches. Both Tony and Scar nodded, accepting the fact they would be going home empty-handed.
The Double D men waited and drank an extra cup while the sheriff ate. When he had finished, he said, “I was planning on a trip to your place as soon as we get rid of this snow. I have some news that might be of interest to you.”
“Looks like we saved you the trip, Sheriff. What’s the news?”
“The bank’s foreclosing on the Ross ranch. I’ve agreed to deliver the eviction notice, but the weather has held me up. I thought the Double D might be interested in working out a sale with the bank. All the bank wants out of the deal is to recover the amount remaining on the mortgage. Ross has seven thousand acres butting up against the west end of your property and another fifteen thousand acres of grazing rights. As a whole, the land doesn’t graze as many cows as yours, but it’s better than many ranches around here.”
“I didn’t know Mr. Ross was having financial problems…at least no more than the other ranchers in the area. Can’t the bank work with him, Sheriff?” Scar asked.
The sheriff shook his head. “Not in the Ross case, Scar. It’s true, many ranchers in the area have fair sized mortgages, but they keep the interest paid and pay a little on their loans each year from cattle sales. I was told Ross hasn’t paid anything against his mortgage, interest, or principal for three years. The bank can’t let it go any longer, especially with this year’s likely setback. They have to maintain some degree of equity against the loan.”
“What’s the balance of the mortgage, Sheriff?”
“It’s a little over seventy thousand dollars with the accrued interest. That’s only ten dollars an acre.”
“Do you think the bank would loan the Double D the money?”
“I have no doubts, Scar. The Double D is one of the most productive ranches around and has no liens against it. Besides, you’re known for having good management skills. I believe the bank
would be happy to transfer the mortgage over to you with no money down and no payments for two years, except for the interest.”
“Do you think Mr. Douglas can handle that many acres, Sheriff?” Scar asked. “It would expand the grazing to forty-three thousand acres, counting the federal land, which would support over four thousand cows.”
“It’s not as much of a challenge as you had starting up the Double D. If you remember, it was run down when you bought it. The house had been burned down, the stock was wild and unbranded, and none of you knew anything about ranching, except Thomas.” Scar nodded and smiled, remembering the circumstances the sheriff had mentioned.
“I don’t know, Sheriff. Mr. Douglas might not want to take on any debt at this time. He’ll have less income this year because of the weather, and he’s promised Mrs. Douglas and Liz he’ll have two buildings constructed here in town this spring.”
The sheriff looked puzzled. “Why do the women need two buildings?”
“They don’t…they’re for Jake and Betty. Jake hasn’t been told yet, but we think Flat Peaks needs a newspaper, and Jake would make a good operator. We’re sure he’ll like the idea. The other building is a dress shop for Betty.” The sheriff’s face brightened at the prospect of the town getting a newspaper and dress shop. “By the way, Sheriff, do you know who owns the ground next to the café, the area south of it?”
“Jenny owns it. It was in the plot of land she purchased when she built the café.” Scar looked over at Tony and smiled. When the Double D men left the café, the snowfall had ceased, the wind had lessened, and the clouds had broken up, leaving splotches of blue sky. Words weren’t spoken, but each man was hoping this was the start of better weather. After all, it was almost the first of April.
Scar bought a few things at the mercantile for Morning Sun and had returned to Jenny’s for a late noon meal. He lingered over coffee, waiting for the crowd to leave. Soon Jenny came from the kitchen and took a chair beside Scar. After a few minutes of small talk, he shared the family’s newspaper and dress shop plans and asked if she would consider selling the land beside the café. She was elated and agreed there was a need for both ventures in Flat Peaks. In no time they had settled on two hundred dollars for each lot.