One Man's Shadow (The McCabes Book 2)

by Brad Dennison

Her gaze remained on the Summers establishment, and she grew silent. Jack could guess why.

  He said, “I’ve never been a customer there, in case you’re wondering.”

  “No, I wasn’t.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  She looked at him with a guilty grin. “Yes I was.”

  They strolled about, hand-in-hand. They talked of nothing and yet somehow everything, in the way a couple has of doing when they are falling in love. Occasionally they would stop to kiss. And then they would walk on.

  She asked him about his boots. He told her how his father always carried a pair.

  “They sure would have come in handy out on the trail,” Jack said. “When I was going in on foot to pull you out of Falcone’s camp. These are a Shoshone design. This pair is actually Dusty’s.”

  “So, things are working out well between you and Dusty?”

  He nodded. “Surprisingly well.”

  “How about the overall problem?”

  He shrugged. “It’s all still there. Nothing’s really changed. I don’t know how to tell any of them how I feel. Aunt Ginny is so excited to hear any story I can tell her about school. I kind of think maybe she wanted to pursue higher education but in her day, a woman going to college was unheard of. It practically is today, too. I think that’s part of it. And part of it is she truly wants what she thinks is best for me, and can’t even conceive of the idea of me being content roaming these hills and building a cattle ranch when I could be in Boston or New York, working at one of the finest hospitals.”

  “How long do you think you can put off telling them?”

  He smiled. “As long as I possibly can.”

  Their stroll eventually brought them back to the meadow where the settlers were camped.

  She said, “Is there any chance I can see you tomorrow?”

  “There’s every chance. My father is going to show the valley to Brewster and Ford and your father. I intend to come along. If you are with your father, then I’ll be riding along to help show you the valley. If you stay behind at camp, then I’ll be staying to visit with Hunter, and eventually make my way over to your camp.”

  She was smiling. “You have it all figured out.”

  He raised his brows in a sort of shrug. “I have very little in life figured out.”

  He walked her to her tent and gave her a silent kiss, and waited until she was safely in the tent and then turned and headed back to the saloon to see how much money Hunter had lost to Dusty.

  29

  The following morning, Jack followed the enticing smell of coffee and bacon down the stairs and to the kitchen. Since he had very little clothing that was range worthy, and the clothes he wore at school were in his trunk in the marshal’s office in Kincaid, he borrowed one of Pa’s range shirts. This one was gray, and his vest was in place and his gun was buckled on.

  Pa was in his customary place at the head of the table. Temperance was at the oven, removing a batch of biscuits. An apron was tied about her waist and a bandanna about her head.

  Pa said, “Temperance, breakfast is great. You outdid yourself.”

  Temperance and Bree usually exchanged breakfast duties.

  “Thank you, Pa,” she said. She had tried calling him Mister McCabe when she first came to live here, but he had corrected her on that. All the kids here call me Pa.

  He directed his gaze to Jack and said, “I didn’t expect to see you so early.”

  Aunt Ginny was at the table with a cup of tea in front of her. “Why? Did something happen last night?”

  Jack went to the stove, and found things as he remembered them from previous mornings in this house. A pot of coffee and a kettle of hot water for tea.

  Ginny said, “That’s trail coffee. I probably should have made a pot of normal, civilized coffee for you.”

  “No need.” Jack grabbed a cup and saucer and filled the cup with black coffee. “This is how I drink it.”

  “Even at school?”

  “Especially at school, when you’re up half the night studying.”

  She gave a grimace at the thought of drinking the stuff, and Pa chuckled.

  There was also a large plate on the counter heaping with strips of bacon, and on the stove was a skillet with some fried eggs ready to eat. Jack normally wasn’t hungry in the morning, so he decided to opt for the coffee only.

  Aunt Ginny looked at Jack as he sat at the table. She said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I just took a little ride last night, that’s all.”

  Bree was stepping in through the back door, a basket of eggs in her hand, and she heard what he said. With a smile, she said, “Must be a girl involved to get a man out in the middle of the night. I heard you both ride away.”

  Jack said, “Doesn’t anyone sleep in this family?”

  Aunt Ginny said, “Both?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Dusty rode with me.”

  “I was just couldn’t sleep, that’s all,” Dusty said, striding into the kitchen and heading for the coffee pot. He was once again in his buckskin shirt, and his Peacemaker was tied down to his leg. “Thought I’d ride along with Jack, and give him some company.”

  Jack’s gaze met his and Jack gave a slight nod. His way of saying, thanks for not saying anything about Harlan Carter. No need to worry Aunt Ginny unnecessarily.

  Pa said, “I’m going to ride into town today. Gonna show the settlers the acreage at the center of the valley. There’s a good water supply and should be good for farming. Not really enough acreage for a herd our size. Not that we haven’t used it before, but even a couple hundred head of longhorns can graze it down to nothing in just a couple of weeks.”

  Bree filled a plate with bacon and eggs, and she grabbed one of Temperance’s biscuits. Temperance filled a plate for herself and they both went to the table.

  Aunt Ginny took a sip of her tea. The fragrance of Earl Grey was gently drifting about, competing with the smell of coffee.

  She said, “It would be good to see that land put to use. And we need more families here if we intend to build a community.”

  “There’s land available here. Good water. About a square mile at the center of the valley.”

  Jack decided he was hungry after all. He got to his feet and went to the cupboard for a plate, and began serving himself some eggs and bacon. He said, “There’s more acreage than that in the valley, Pa. Almost three square miles that’s hardly used. Once in a while in the summer, if there’s a drought. But moving the cattle in and out of the valley is a lot of work. Not cost efficient.”

  “But most of that land is too far from the lake for anyone to use the water.”

  “There’s always irrigation.”

  Dusty looked at him skeptically. “You mean, digging trenches all the way from the lake out to the fields? That’s a lot of digging.”

  “No. They could dig wells. Water isn’t far from the surface down in the center of the valley. They could use windmills to pump the water. If they put the well in the center of their fields, maybe even a couple of wells powered by windmills, then irrigation would be feasible.”

  Pa nodded. “That what they’re teaching you at medical school?”

  “One of my..,” he was about to say drinking buddies, but quickly amended it before the word could get out, “buddies is majoring in agricultural science.”

  “You mean,” Dusty said, “he’s goin’ to college to learn how to farm?”

  Jack chuckled, and returned to the table. “Does sound kind of foolish when you look at it that way. But what he’s studying is new farming technology. Such as using a windmill for a pump.”

  Pa said, “I really doubt these farmers from Vermont know a lot about building windmills. Is that anything you could help them with?”

  Jack nodded. “Maybe. I read the textbook on it. Interesting material. And as you know, I tend to remember most of what I read.”

  He had woken up Aunt Ginny’s curiosity. “What else is this friend of yours learning about agr
iculture?”

  “Cattle breeds. There are new breeds being raised in Europe, and even back east. Herefords, gurnseys, and such. Animals with a lot more beef on the hoof than a longhorn. Maybe twice as much.”

  “Twice?” Dusty was a little incredulous.

  Jack nodded, and cut into his bacon. “Sounds a little farfetched, I know, but I’ve seen them. Trouble is, they’re much shorter legged and can’t cover a lot of ground.”

  “Sounds like they’d be easy to handle.”

  “For a short distance, yes. But it would be impossible to do a drive to market with them.”

  “Doesn’t sound like they’d be much good out here.”

  Pa said, “I’ve heard of some of those new breeds. It’ll only be a matter of time before the railroad is up in these parts. Cattle will all be marketed by train. The long, overland drive is gonna become a thing of the past.”

  Jack swallowed his bacon and took a sip of coffee. “I really think these new breeds are going to be the way of the future. With more beef on the hoof, you can get a higher price. And they’re shorter horned, which makes ‘em easier to transport by train. Less likely to gouge each other up.”

  “The last herd we brought down to Cheyenne, we had to saw off the horns. That took some man-hours.”

  “And from what I understand, these newer breeds don’t roam free over an open range, like longhorns. A longhorn can eat pretty much any kind of grass, but the newer breeds are more selective. Generally they’re kept in pastures where they can graze a bit, but they’re also fed a lot of hay. That hay is grown on farms, and so in parts of the east and Europe, a sort of symbiosis is forming between farmers and ranchers.”

  Bad choice of words. Aunt Ginny understood the word symbiosis, but Pa and Dusty probably would not. They were not stupid by any means, but symbiosis was one of those ten-dollar words you just didn’t hear much outside the classroom.

  Jack decided to rephrase, without making it obvious. “I see communities developing where farms sell hay to the ranchers, and the ranchers in turn sell beef to the farmers. That’s what I was thinking when I met those folks and agreed to lead them out here. They had heard there was good farming land in this part of the country and I brought them to this little valley because I think they’re folks you,” he looked at Pa, “could work with. Especially Brewster and Ford.”

  “I don’t know,” Dusty said, shaking his head and reaching for his coffee. “Farming and ranching has never mixed.”

  “That’s because the longhorn requires so incredibly much open range, and farming requires a set piece of earth to plow and plant. Farmers staking claims tend to reduce the amount of open range available.”

  Pa was smiling, obviously proud of his son. He glanced at Ginny, who was also smiling. Pa said, “It’s the wise man who looks to the future.”

  “I guess I just don’t like seeing things change,” Dusty said. “Things that are good enough just the way they are. I like the open range. I like the feeling of freedom you get, just you and your horse and all those miles of open country around you.”

  Temperance said, “You sound like Josh.”

  “And that’s a good thing?”

  She beamed the kind of smile a woman has only when she’s talking about the man she loves. “I think it is.”

  Jack said, “I didn’t say I approve of the change. I would hate to see this country around us chopped up into claims. But I really think it’s inevitable, and we should try to get the jump on it the best we can. And part of that involves bringing in people we can work with.”

  Johnny drained his coffee, and rose to his feet and headed for the pot. “Jack, how long do you think you’ll be here before you head back to school?”

  Here we go, Jack said. Back to pretending he was only here for a visit before going back to medical school. Now was not the right time to spring the news on them because it would turn into a long family discussion, and he and Pa needed to be saddling up to get into town. So he decided to fake his answer.

  “Well, the semester starts September fourth, and you need to allow three weeks to travel, just to be on the safe side. And a week to settle in.”

  “End of July, then?”

  Jack nodded uncomfortably, hoping no one would notice. He had been a good poker player back at school. Darby could testify to this by how much Jack had drained Darby’s bank account. Jack was hoping that experience would come in handy now.

  Johnny filled his cup and sat down.

  Ginny said, “What’s going on, John?”

  “Well,” he hesitated. What he was about to say was something that weighed on him a little. He now had everyone’s full attention.

  Bree said, “What is it, Pa?”

  “Well, I did some thinking during those days on the trail with Jack and Dusty. There’s something I’ve gotta do.”

  Aunt Ginny said, “Visit Lura’s grave.”

  Pa nodded. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while. But last summer I was shot up so bad, and I was a while recovering. Then there was the fall roundup. And then,” looking at Dusty, “you needed to go to Oregon, and that was important. And then came the spring round up. But now, both you and Josh are here, and it’s time for me to go.”

  Temperance glanced questioningly from Pa to Bree. Bree said to her, “Ma’s buried in California.”

  Jack figured Temperance had gotten much of the back story of this family but was still putting some of the pieces together.

  “John,” Ginny said. “Will you at least consider taking a train?”

  He shook his head. “You know how I travel, Ginny.”

  She nodded with a suddenly weary resignation. “Overland. Through the mountains. Like some sort of Indian.”

  “Well, in many ways, I guess I am some sort of Indian.”

  Jack said, “That’s a long trip to be taken that way.”

  “It’s the only way I travel. Sleeping under the open sky. Feeding myself from the land along the way.”

  Jack understood, more than anyone here except Dusty knew.

  Pa said, “I’ve got to get not only through the Rockies but also the Sierra Nevadas before first snow. I figure I can visit with Matt and his family for a while. Visit some old friends. Then in the spring head back home.”

  Dusty said, “Josh and I can handle fall round-up. And spring, too, if you’re not back yet.”

  “That’s what I figure.”

  Bree said, “But you won’t be here for Christmas. Seems like the family is never together for Christmas, anymore. Jack,” she looked at her brother, “you haven’t been able to be here for Christmas for years, and Josh and Dusty were both away last year.”

  “Sorry, Punkin,” Pa said. “Can’t be helped. It’s something I’ve gotta do.”

  Pa looked at Jack. “I don’t want to lose any time with you. But I don’t think I can wait until the end of July to head out.”

  Jack nodded. “I understand. Maybe we can get some time together. Maybe ride through the hills and bring some venison home. And besides, we had some time on the trail.”

  Pa nodded with a smile. It was good his son understood.

  Aunt Ginny said, “When do you think you’ll leave?”

  It was July first. He said, “Maybe in a couple of weeks.”

  She nodded and took a sip of tea.

  “Don’t worry,” he said to her and to Bree. “I’ll be coming back.”

  Ginny said, “It’s just that it’s hard not to worry when you’re out there all alone on horseback that way. And California is so far away.”

  “Not like I haven’t made that ride before.” He had visited Lura’s grave five years earlier. “Zack was on the ranch then, and he and Josh ran things until I got back.”

  “But, John, you’re not getting any younger.”

  He shrugged. “Such is the way of life. You can’t stop living, though.”

  The eastern sky was lightening but the sun hadn’t yet come into view when Pa had Jack dropped a loop on a couple of geldings
and threw saddles on them. Dusty was bracing a ladder against the side of the barn and getting ready to climb up. He wanted to get the roof repair done before the day got too hot.

  Dusty looked at Jack. “You’re more than welcome to stay and lend a hand.”

  “What?” Jack said with a playful smile as he swung into the saddle. “I’m on vacation, remember?”

  Dusty threw a grin back at him. He began his climb up the ladder with a bucket of tar in one hand.

  Pa called out to him, “We should be back before dark.”

  They found Brewster had rented a buckboard from the livery. Not that they had any money to spare. Most of their cash had been spent outfitting themselves for the journey west. But old Jeb, who ran the livery, let them have it on credit.

  Jeb was near eighty and a little bent at the shoulders and back. Bent in the kind of way a lifetime of hard work can do to a man. But he still had a strong grip and could heft a saddle with one hand. He wore a sombrero over white hair, and a corn cob pipe was always in his mouth like it had somehow grown there.

  He said, “Most of the folks around here live on credit. They run a tab until they sell some beef, and then they pay everyone they owe and start the cycle all over again.”

  Brewster said, “To be fair, at best it’ll be over a year before we can harvest any crops. It’s way too late in the season to plant now.”

  Old Jeb waved the idea off, like he was swishing his hand at a fly. “You’re friends of Johnny McCabe. Good enough for me. Don’t come no more stand-up than him.”

  When Johnny and Jack emerged from the patch of woods behind Hunter’s, they found the wagon hitched to a team. Brewster was in the seat, the reins in his one hand. Ford was sitting beside him, and Harding, dark-eyed and sullen as ever, was in back.

  Pa said, “So, just you men are coming?”

  Brewster said, “It’s been a long journey. We figured to let our families rest a bit.”

  “’Sides,” Harding said, “This is men’s business.”

  Jack glanced at his father and had to repress a grin. Just let him say that to Aunt Ginny. She wouldn’t care if he was a gunfighter or not. She would cut him down to size.