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Rebellion in the Valley

Page 5

by Robyn Leatherman


  The only reason he let go of his temples was because he could hear his daughter’s laughter drifting into the house from outside.

  Richard gave a quick slice through a loaf of bread and grinned in satisfaction at the new tool before inserting it again and inquiring offhand, “Now what are those two up to?”

  “What do ya mean?”

  Richard rolled his eyes. “Oh, Tobias and Hailee. Those two have been at it for an hour now.”

  “In an argument, are they?” he asked with a gleam of hope.

  “Are you kidding me?” Richard laughed. “Those two? I don’t think they’ve ever had a cross word to say about the other one. No, they’ve been chasin’ one another around the horse pen the whole morning long; not sure if they’re cleaning it or messing it back up,” he commented with a grin. “I’d give two bits for that kind of energy, myself,” he added with a yawn and a long stretching-out of both arms over his head. “It’s going to take me a week to recuperate from our trip into town.”

  The owner of the ranch was already standing at the back door with his eyes in a firmly focused gaze on the scene not far enough from him: Tobias held the rake out in front of himself with a playful grin plastered across his face, taunting his daughter with the rake.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” he pleaded with a laugh.

  Hailee pretended she to pour a bucket of water onto the pile of manure that Tobias had just pulled up, and as she laughed, her head tossed blonde curls across her shoulders and down her back.

  It was a scene Bruce had witnessed many times between the two of them; they had a regular way of cleaning out the pens and had worked together for years now. The man knew they were close, and he never gave a second thought about it…until now.

  He had to scold himself and laughed aloud at the mere thought of those two being anything more than friends.

  “Those two couldn’t be any closer if they were brother and sister,” Bruce reported confidently to the man standing behind him.

  He had already shoved the door open to join the pair in the fresh mountain air as Richard shook his head.

  “Believe what you want,” he grinned, pushing some potatoes into a heavy cast iron skillet.

  “Tobias! Don’t let her get the best of you,” Bruce teased as he opened the pen gate.

  Hailee gave a mock pout.

  “Whose side are you on, Daddy?”

  Bruce patted Tobias on his back and gave a quick nod of his head.

  “Well, I’m for my fellow man here,” he winked. “And if you get the best of him, then who am I gonna have on my side when we take after that cat?”

  Tobias poked the rake into the ground and got more serious.

  “Yeah, about that. I think we best get goin in the next couple of days at most; me and the boys are fixin’ to get that fence repaired this afternoon, and once it’s good ‘n sturdy, I’ll be ready whenever you are, Boss.”

  Bruce had to agree. With winter approaching and the livestock coming up missing right and left, not only would the winter meat supply be dwindled away, but the spring babies would be in danger as well.

  “Then it’s all settled,” Bruce affirmed with a firm pat on Tobias’ shoulder. “We’ll leave on Wednesday if that works for you.”

  Duffy overheard the conversation; he had been eye-balling Tobias the whole morning, strutting around the ranch like he practically owned the place.

  He surely was getting sick of that man, walking in and out of the ranch house at all times of the day. He wasn’t like the others, who only went inside at meal time and left promptly after they had finished eating, the way all paid hands should do.

  No, that Tobias would just open the kitchen door without so much as a knock-just march right in and jaw with Richard in the middle of the day, drinking a glass of sweet tea or lemonade, just making himself to home. And he took it on himself to linger on after dinner, too! Drinkin’ one cup of coffee after another, just sittin’ there and actin’ like he was one of the family!

  ‘What gives him the right?’ Duffy thought in a burst of inner anger. ‘Bruce is my friend! That kid ain’t got any right to sachet in and out of the main house whenever he darn well pleases!’

  The moody ranch hand reached up to a pair of pliers hanging on a rusty nail and grasped a long wire in them, emptying his anger out on the metal line as he twisted it back and forth in an attempt to snap some of the wire off.

  Just the look on the man’s face as he dwelt on the images replaying in his mind’s eye, a person could see how worked up Duffy had allowed himself to become by the pale red flush in his cheeks.

  If Bruce wasn’t careful, that boy was gonna get his daughter cornered into thinking that she was in love with him, the way he flirted with her so.

  “Disgusting. That’s what it is. Just plumb disgusting,” Duffy spit out.

  The wire popped off the end of the pliers and the ranch hand proceeded to cut seven more strips the same way. He intended to take them along on the hunting expedition to string meat on; he’d found it easier to pack that way when going on a hunt.

  The more Duffy thought about it, the more it riled him up; here, he’d spent the good portion of his life slaving away for a fella, building up his land and his property-and for what? To groom it so some young whippersnapper could just march right in and take the whole dang thing away when he up and flirted with the boss’s daughter?

  “Well, I won’t have it!” he told the wind.

  P

  Tobias and Bruce finished the raking of manure as Hailee left their stinky mess in favor of feeding Epoenah.

  She turned when she had enough space in between them and hollered out, “I still don’t think you rake manure right!”

  Tobias waved a hand at her and rolled his eyes.

  “That girl,“ he said out loud. He hadn’t even realized he said it until Bruce chimed in.

  “Yeah. Some days I don’t know what I’m gonna do with her. She’s growin’ up on me, Tobias, and there ain’t a whole lot I can do about it.” His face turned toward the man standing next to him and he opened his mouth to say something, but stopped short when he couldn’t help but notice that Tobias was still watching Hailee as she stooped under Epoenah’s pen fencing.

  The look on her daddy’s face made it clear he wasn’t so sure he was comfortable with the way Tobias was still looking at his only daughter.

  P

  After dinner that very evening, Duffy stood at his work bench, putting a match to the oil burning lantern he kept hanging on an old hook and pulled the wick down some.

  “Best to keep the light down low right now,” a guilty conscience cautioned as he tugged at the tack room door again to make certain it was shut tight.

  His eyes followed the words scrawled out on the paper and he bit at his bottom lip without even thinking about what he was doing.

  ‘An opportunity like this one don’t come around but once in a man’s life,’ Duffy rationalized. ‘If I play my cards right, the kid will be done away with and I’ll be top dog again.’

  Yanking a worn-out wallet from his back dungarees pocket, he opened it and re-counted the number of greenbacks he owned. If he decided to go ahead and buy those shares in the Pocahontas Mine, it would show Bruce he was better than that kid. He would prove to be the smarter one, the one with a mind for business.

  Nodding to reassure himself that he was making the right decision indeed, Duffy closed the wallet and slid it back into place in his pocket.

  “Yep,” he mumbled. “I’ll head on over to the Bank of Rosita first thing in the morning and get that taken care of,” he nodded in satisfaction. ‘Now to take care of that dang kid.’

  Duffy’s arm reached high over his head, fingers wiggling around the top shelf until they grasped a leather pouch.

  A lump filled his throat and a trickle of perspiration rolled down his forehead; he swallowed hard as his fingers pulled at the thongs tied around the top.

  He slid the smaller blades back out of the pouch, scowled
at his own indecision.

  Should he or shouldn’t he?

  Chapter 7

  Climbing up on his Palomino, Duffy rode off the ranch early enough so nobody even realized he was gone; he’d planned it that way. It wasn’t anybody’s business where he went or what he did, anyhow.

  Just as the hill caused him and his horse to disappear, a dirty grin eased its way across his mouth. Images of the reaction he would get from Bruce when he realized Duffy had purchased stocks in such a profitable business deal played in his mind over and over again, each time the scene being just a bit different from the one before; he would have to be quiet about buying these shares in the mine or people would be worming their ways out of the woodwork little by little to borrow money or try to buddy-up to him. And Duffy would have none of that!

  The man on horseback pulled a worn-out pocket watch from his vest.

  The Bank of Rosita would be opening its doors within fifteen minutes; Duffy felt his back pocket for the fifth time, just to make certain his wallet hadn’t fallen from his dungarees somewhere on the trail into town.

  Soon as Duffy hit the farthest end of Tyndall Street in Rosita, Colorado that Tuesday morning, he smelled the bacon that gave him a tickle in both his nose and his belly; obviously, someone in one of the seven homes located on the street just behind the Bank of Rosita had already been up and taking care of household business. An unintentional hand went straight to his belt buckle, rubbing that empty spot caused as a direct result of skipping Richard’s breakfast. He winced just a tad without even realizing it; soon as he purchased those shares in the mine, he would have to stop in at one of the hotel saloons and order himself a nice hot breakfast to celebrate his new-found riches. He’d been hearing a few of the silver miners bragging on the food they served, and he’d meant to stop in there for a while now, anyhow.

  As long as he wandered back to the Red Bone before too much time passed and he eased his way up through the back of the property, he could always make like he’d gotten up early in order to get a few things done before the day got started.

  The morning sunshine warmed the hands holding on to the reins of his horse and he snickered to himself…at least he wouldn’t be lying. Not completely, anyhow.

  Duffy swung his right leg over the rear end of his Palomino and as his boot hit the planked walkway, his eyes scanned down the length of Tyndall Street; the schoolteacher had already rung the massive bell hanging outside the double doors and most of the people walking around were only those who were tending to their everyday chores.

  With one hand, he attached the reins to the wooden hitching post and paused to think of those fancy ones he’d heard they used in the big cities back east. From stories related by some of the local folk who’d been out that way, they were made from solid cast iron and from what Duffy heard tell, they were even fitted with thick gold rings for tying the reins onto. He wondered how heavy they actually were and how far they planted those things into the ground when the sound of a barking dog caught his attention. The mutt apparently snagged an older lady’s basket of food as she was exiting the hotel Duffy planned to eat at once those shares were hot in his hands.

  The bank smelled clean and tidy; his boots clanked across the hard wooden floor. Tall windows positioned across the front of the building allowed plenty of warmth to fill the large room, adding to Duffy’s already perspiring forehead.

  “Good morning, Sir,” Duffy offered to the man behind the oversized solid oak banking desk. Thick iron bars across the length of the desk formed a barrier between the bank employees and the public; the man on the other side smiled a toothy reply to Duffy.

  “How may I be of assistance to you on this fine day?”

  Duffy could just feel himself growing richer by the second!

  “You can assist me by taking some of my hard-earned cash here,” Duffy replied, not in the most educated manner. “I’ll be taking five shares in that Pocahontas Mine this morning. It’s a little surprise, if ya know what I mean,” he added with a self-important sniff and a tugging on his cow-hide jacket.

  Mr. Walter Stuart, the proprietor of the Bank of Rosita, just grinned.

  “Certainly, Sir. That will be five shares in the Pocahontas Mine, at ten dollars per share, which comes to a total of fifty United States dollars, please.” He reached under the cabinet, retrieving a few formal-looking documents. “If you would please fill out these forms, sir–quite customary, I assure you. They will assign each share to its rightful new owner and legally document you as the purchaser. Each share is numbered, as you will see at the top of each share form,” Mr. Stuart pointed to the many places on the sheets of paper as he explained what each spot represented in legal terms.

  With each stroke of the ink pen, Howard J. Duffman felt his life getting better - and richer. Behind those bars, Mr. Stuart tried not to smirk at the grin spreading across Duffy’s greedy face; he’d seen that same look on several faces recently and knew what they would eventually amount to.

  Signed and paid for in full, Howard J. Duffman strolled out of the Bank of Rosita as the proud owner of five shares in the Pocahontas Mine. Feeling rather invincible, he decided a hearty plate of breakfast vittles was definitely in order and instead of mounting his Palomino, he chose to walk the horse on over to the hotel, where he re-tied it to yet another hitching post. Whistling a cheerful tune, Duffy held the door for a couple who were exiting just as he pulled the door open for himself.

  Tipping his hat in a kind gesture, Duffy nodded his head. “Morning,” he acknowledged.

  Once a cup of steaming fresh coffee had found its way into his system, he pulled the documents back out of the envelope the bank man had folded them into.

  ‘Just imagine! Owner of five shares in a silver mine.’ His mind began wandering and he thought of at least ten different ways he would spend the profits when he cashed them in one day. ‘Or,’ he rubbed his chin in thought, ‘I just might even sit on them for a while longer than I’d figured.’ Who knew how far those shares could take him?

  Tipping his server a full two bits, Howard J. Duffman found his way back outside, feeling like a brand-new man. Reborn. Energized and ready to tackle just about anything that came his way. Maybe even Tobias, that whippersnapper.

  That reminded him. He really should be heading on back to the ranch since his business had taken a spell longer than he had planned.

  Just as Howard J. Duffman, entrepreneur, vacated Tyndall Street, Mr. Walter Stuart kept an eye on the man who had just purchased the last of the shares offered from the Pocahontas Mine.

  P

  Jabbing the tip of an old manure fork back into the pile, Bruce nodded his head at the man speaking to him. “Yeah, makes no never mind to me how we get it done, long as it gets done.”

  The morning, short-handed by three ranch hands, moved a bit slower than usual.

  “Normally I’d have no problem dropping all the hay off in the fields by myself, but I sure could use a hand today so the cattle gets fed before too much longer,” the ranch hand pulled on the brim of his hat casually.

  “Hey, tell ya what,” Bruce thought aloud. “I’m almost done here. Give me maybe another thirty minutes, and I’ll come on over and help you with that. Been a while since I worked with you anyhow.”

  The other man nodded in agreement. “That should give me enough time to finish loading up. You know where to find me, Boss.” He turned on a booted heel to return to the stack of hay piled up behind the weathered old barn.

  Bruce wiped his forehead. He felt a break coming his way, but knew the work had to be done and opted for getting this and at least one more chore completed before having the entire crew come in and get out of the heat for a few minutes.

  The fork, under the weight of the load he scooped up, caused Bruce to grimace.

  “Kinda stinky, huh, Daddy?”

  Shaking his head, Bruce tossed the pile into the wheelbarrow and stabbed the fork down into the mess again.

  “Well, I can handle the stink.
What has me stumped is why in the world the stuff has to be so gosh-darned heavy,” he told his daughter. “I’m not as young as I used to be, you know. I watch the way you and Tobias muck out the stalls and you two act like it ain’t nothing. What’s the secret?”

  Hailee cocked her head to one side as if he had just asked her to reveal every hidden thought in her mind. “What?”

  “What’s the secret behind mucking stalls like you’re having the times of your lives out here?” Bruce reached back for the fork, realizing how much still had to be done before moving along to the day’s next chore–and the ranch hand who would be expecting him shortly.

  She laughed, removing it from his hands.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Tobias is a lot of fun, I guess. He makes me laugh, so it’s really not like we’re working at all. We do lots of the chores that way,” she grinned. “I’ll finish up here, Daddy. Why don’t you stick around and see how much you can make me laugh?” she teased.

  Bruce waved a hand at her. “Nah, I’ll leave that to the expert. Time for me to feed some hungry cows,” he winked.

  Hailee gave a forced poke into the pile, heaving a load into the wheelbarrow. When she realized how full it already was, she couldn’t help but give a grimace herself. Emptying the wheelbarrow wasn’t exactly one of her favorite chores, but with Tobias lending a hand to the repair of the house water pump, she knew she was on her own with this one.

  “Heave ho,” the girl told herself aloud, shoving the wheeled mess forward.

  By the time she realized the wheels had gotten stuck in a patch of mud and then caught on a few rocks, Hailee understood her father’s aching back. Struggling to tip the mess over and into the growing pile that her father would be spreading out in the hay field come fall, the co-owner of the Red Bone Ranch added her stinky contribution.

  Returning to the barn, Hailee mucked that last load for her father and dumped it with the rest, spilling some of it on the front of her dress.

  “Well, that’s attractive,” She grumbled, although it was not the first time it had ever happened to her.

 

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