The Traherns #1

by Nancy Radke

  “Wonderful. Whatever you want.”

  We kissed again, and sealed our love.

  James was so much the gentleman that Mother was swiftly won over. She flew into planning a perfect wedding, while I showed James around the farm and introduced him to the workers there. He laughed when I told him about my cooking lessons, assuring me that he didn’t care how long it took for me to learn, but by now I could boil water, make bread and fix a roast and potatoes.

  Mother put on a wedding to impress Baltimore, making her extremely happy and leaving my father to shake his head over the expense.

  Our honeymoon trip was all I could ask for, except we did have a buffalo stampede that stopped our train for several days as the huge beasts knocked the caboose and two cars off the tracks, trying to get past the train. We had to wait for a flatcar with a crane on it to come right the cars and put them back on the tracks. James and many of the passengers helped to push them up and into place.

  Oh yes, and a bridge out. James and I did not mind waiting. We were conducting a school of our own, learning a lot about loving.

  They were just starting harvest when we got back to the ranch. We quickly moved into the weaning house, and I spent most every day helping Mally. During the next few years, I learned how to cook and make soap and do all the other things a farm wife needs to know.

  That winter was the terrible winter of 89-90. We were fortunate, because when Trey and James got the cows from my father, they decided to sell off all their cattle except for Sir Galahad and the ten cows. They took a small loss on them, but wanted a purebred herd.

  When the snow and freezing weather came in November, James brought them into the barn, not knowing how they would manage with their short legs. He had plenty of hay, and the ranchers came to him to buy hay, until one of our hands warned him to keep enough for his prize animals to last through spring. The cowboy had seen bad winters on the plains, and knew how bad it could be.

  Well, this one was worse than those. Most ranchers lost over 90 percent of their cattle, as the deep snow covered fences and homes, and the freezing weather lasted until late spring, killing horses, cows, and deer, all over the country.

  The next year, ranchers lined up to buy bulls or breeding opportunities from Sir Galahad, because most of the cows which survived that winter had white faces, and looked just like him.

  He was truly a noble bull, worth his weight in gold, living twenty pampered years on our land. He always followed me around, like a tame dog.

  I refused to put Mally and Trey out of their home, but she countered me by saying she wanted a smaller house without any stairs. We lived in the weaning house until they built a place near the main ranch house, where we could look in on them and care for them as they got older. Our many children were able to have their grandparents close by, which I considered a blessing.

  THE END

  THE STUBBORNEST GIRL IN THE VALLEY

  The Traherns #6 Time @1925

  By Nancy Radke

  Table of Contents

  Begin Reading

  MAIN MENU

  THE STUBBORNEST GIRL IN THE VALLEY

  “Barnabas? Here’s the list of men Wylie sent out from town. They were mighty glad for the work. The depression is hitting everyone hard.”

  My foreman, Joe Taylor, held up a scrap of paper. I took the list and glanced down the old storekeeper’s shaky writing. Mickey B., Terrance Y., Pete M., Alvin J., and Sam W.

  I could barely make them out. It looked like Terrance was crossed out.

  “Mickey, Alvin, and Pete came on out with me to start building the corrals. Sam is bringing out the herd you bought.”

  “By himself?”

  “He has a dog.”

  I nodded, pocketed the paper and walked outside with him. It was mid-summer in the Blue Mountains of Oregon, the air warm but not oppressively hot. Overhead an eagle circled and a Steller’s Jay called from a nearby pine.

  My Becky would have loved it here, I thought, as I helped Joe move shovels, posthole diggers, hammers and nails out of the buckboard into a wheelbarrow, all of which he had bought on his trip into town.

  I’d come to Oregon a young man in my early thirties, bought my land and built a cabin for my wife-to-be. Becky. We were married in Walla Walla and I drove over the mountain pass on the narrow road, bringing her home. I had a car, one of the first ones in the area, but the brakes failed. They told me it wasn’t my fault, but I knew that if we’d have come horseback, like we were used to traveling, my Becky would probably be with me today. I missed that gal.

  I came back from the hospital, not knowing if I wanted to ranch anymore or not. But the moment I set foot again on my land, I knew I would stay. Joe had taken care of the place, even built a small cabin for himself to live in when I got back with my bride. He was an old cowboy who was happy to have found a place to settle.

  The car company offered me a new car, but I wasn’t having it on my ranch. I could barely stand the sight of them. I was going to refuse the money they offered instead, but Pa said I should take it and buy something for Becky.

  She already had a tombstone, so I bought a small herd, just outside of Elgin, and now had a rider bringing it home.

  “Does he know the way here?” I asked Joe that afternoon, when Sam still hadn’t arrived.

  “He said he did. He’s probably taking his time. I told him not to run the fat off them. And to give us time to get the corral finished.”

  I sent Alvin and Pete out to bring in more poles while Mickey, Joe and I set the posts. There were plenty of them already down, from fallen trees. All they had to do was clear off the branches and drag them in, a few at a time.

  We had a small corral built, where we kept the horses, but we needed a larger one for the cattle.

  I had already planned where we would put a barn, and how the corrals would adjoin each other and access it. So we started digging.

  That Oregon soil didn’t want any holes dug in it and we got more blisters than we got holes. But lots of trees had grown in the vicinity where we were digging and we put in some planks to stand on and sawed them off eight feet from the ground. It zigged the shape around some, but we got that corral built, making poles from the dead snags and logs that Alvin and Pete brought in. We hung our gate between two trees.

  We had been finished for half an hour when the cattle came up the road, taking their time, just moseying along. Sam turned out to be a youngster, but had a dog, which was helping with the cattle, and looked to be a great addition. They took a short break to get some water, then helped us start the bunkhouse.

  We drug the trees we cut down over to a place where we would put it. I planned on building it next, and then a barn.

  This was Blue Mountain country, higher than the ranch area where my grandfather, Trey, had settled in Walla Walla. The view was spectacular, but I knew the winter snows could be heavy, so needed to cut hay and cure it out before putting it into a barn. If the hay didn’t dry sufficiently, it could combust and burn your barn down, so I needed to get it cut while we built.

  Towards evening, Sam offered to cook supper. I had put on a pot of beans, and figured to fry some steak to go with it, but that youngster whipped up some biscuits and gravy to go with the steak and beans and made quite a meal out of it. A whole lot better than my cooking.

  “You want to take over the cooking?” I asked.

  “Sure, Mr. Trahern. I usually do the cooking wherever I go. I like to cook.”

  “Good. Cause I hate to.”

  Sam just smiled good-naturedly.

  That night one of the horses pulled up lame, and Joe went to look at it, taking Sam with him.

  He came scooting back shortly.

  “Barnabas,” he said, pulling me aside. “That there Sam is a girl.”

  “What?” I felt like someone had whacked me with a tree limb.

  “A dame. A female. She found a boil on ole Brownie’s leg. She lanced it and cleaned it out, then put a little whisky on it and wrappe
d it as pretty as you please. She said she had been assisting her father on his calls—he’s a country doctor—for many years. She’s nineteen. She’s not a kid.”

  This was impossible. “I told that storekeeper to send me men!”

  “No, you didn’t. You said, ‘Send riders.’”

  “If this is his idea of a joke…”

  “She can ride. And that dog of hers is worth two men. And her cooking will keep the men happy.”

  “A woman! Where are we going to put her tonight? I’ll send her back first thing tomorrow.”

  “She can sleep in my cabin. I’ll sleep out with the boys tonight,” Joe said.

  “What was old Wylie thinking, to pull a trick like that?”

  “Ask him, next time you see him.”

  “I will. A woman. I can’t have a woman out here, with all these men. Don’t tell them she’s female.”

  “I think they already know.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Evidently she’s well known around these parts. Mike said she’s as good as any doctor. That’s why I took her with me to check out my horse. I think only you and I didn’t know.”

  I nodded and stomped out to the corral. Sam had tied the horse up outside the corral, and I looked at her work. A very thorough and professional looking bandage was on the horse’s leg. I looked around for her.

  I found her setting up her gear a distance away from where the men were sleeping. “What do you think you are doing?” I demanded, my voice harsh.

  She straightened up from where she had just put down her blankets and looked at me, puzzled. “Uh, fixing my bed.”

  “You can’t sleep out here with the men.”

  “I’m not. They’re over there.”

  “It’s not right.”

  “What isn’t?”

  “You. A girl.”

  “I’m a woman. My dog will take out any man who threatens me, and my pistol would finish them off. These men know that. Bear is very protective.”

  I looked at her dog. He was watching me and had his hackles raised, probably because of the way I was talking.

  He was a big dog, looking to be part German shepherd and part mastiff. With his hackles raised and his teeth showing, like they were right now, he was as good a guard dog as I’d seen. It didn’t matter.

  “You put your gear in Joe’s cabin tonight,” I said. “You can draw your pay and leave tomorrow. What made you think you could pull a stunt like this?”

  “It’s no stunt. I needed work and Wylie said you were hiring. You needed someone to move cattle. Me and Bear are a team. Everyone in the area knows us.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Well, I’m sorry, Mr. Trahern. I thought you knew.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Samantha Web. My grampa knew some Traherns, back in Walla Walla. Said you were fine folks.”

  “Charlie and Kimana Web?”

  “Yes. They’re my grandparents. Do you know them?”

  “They had the sawmill on Mill Creek?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, you can’t stay out here. It wouldn’t look right.”

  “Mr.Trahern, if you’re worried about my reputation, you don’t need to. Everyone in this county knows me. And Bear. We go everywhere doctoring folks. No one touches us.”

  “So why were you looking for work?”

  “A new doctor came to town, set up his shingle. He’s a real people doctor, with training. I just had what I’d learned from my dad and Grandmother. My dad got busted up when he was trying to work on a sick horse, so he can’t even do vet work right now. He used to do both people and animals. Right now, he can’t do either. I need the work.”

  “Well, take your blankets and put them in Joe’s cabin. He can sleep in with me tonight.”

  “I need this job, Mr. Trahern. Please don’t fire me.”

  “I’m sorry. See me after breakfast. I’ll pay you, then you go back to town. Tell Wylie to send out someone else.”

  She picked up the blankets she’d put down and carried them over to Joe’s cabin.

  Now that I knew she was a woman, I could see it. Her hands were fine-boned and she walked like a woman. Like Becky walked.

  I didn’t need any female around, reminding me of Becky. Although Sam had her hair cut fairly short, it was still long for a man. I’m surprised I didn’t figure it out.

  I walked over to where the men were settling down for the night. They were laughing.

  “You just figuring out she’s a girl?” Mickey asked.

  “Yes. I want you all to leave her alone.”

  “She’s safer here than in town,” he said. “She and her pa have nursed all of us through something or other. Mine was a busted leg.”

  “Appendicitis,” Pete said.

  “I got gored by a bull,” Alvin said. “We like having her here. Anything go wrong, we got us a top-notch doctor.”

  “She’s female,” I said.

  “That she is,” Pete replied. “Sure as shootin’. I reckon she was born that way.”

  “Goodnight,” I said and stomped my way back into my house.

  “They want to keep her,” I told Joe, who was already bedded down on the floor.

  “Of course they do. Who wouldn’t? That meal she fixed last night would make most men want to keep her.”

  “Well, she goes. First thing tomorrow morning.”

  I fell asleep, secure in the knowledge I was right. A single young woman had no place in a camp full of men. It was only inviting trouble.

  I woke up to the wonderful smell of pancakes. I ran out into the main room where the kitchen was, barely remembering to pull on my pants.

  Samantha was standing there, fully dressed, flipping pancakes.

  “I told you to leave, first thing,” I told her.

  She looked at me with a determined glint in her eye. “"I'll leave when I'm ready. I need to check that leg once more. Make sure it is draining properly. If it's all right, then I'll leave."

  "I can take care of it."

  "I'm sure you can. But I finish what I start. It won't take long, if it's healing like it should be."

  “How did you get flapjacks?”

  “I made a sourdough sponge last night, while I was fixing the biscuits, and I aimed to have some before I left this morning. Or did you expect me to ride back to town on an empty stomach?”

  “No,” I sputtered. Only it bothered me to see her using the stove I’d bought for Becky.

  She put some flapjacks on a plate and set them on the table. She already had some brown sugar syrup bubbling on the stove, and all of a sudden my stomach hit my backbone and reminded me that I hadn’t eaten yet.

  “Fix some for me,” I said, and left to put on a shirt. Joe was getting dressed when I walked into the small room I’d built as a bedroom.

  “Sure smells good,” he said. “What is it?”

  “Sourdough pancakes.”

  “Really? I haven’t had any of those since my mother used to make ‘em.” He watched me pull my shirt on and tuck it in. “Save some for me.”

  “I think she made enough for the whole crew.” I ran my hand over my beard. I hadn’t shaved for several days and stopped myself as I reached for the razor. I didn’t want her thinking that a passel of flapjacks was going to make me change my mind.

  They almost did, though. They tasted so good and so light. My feeble attempts were like shoe leather.

  “How do you get them so light?” I asked.

  “It’s my mother’s starter. I carry some with me wherever I go. I always try to leave some fresh starter behind when I leave. I put yours in the cooler.”

  Joe walked into the room and heard the last statement. “It looks like I’m cook. Tell me what to do.”

  “Make your sponge the night before and let it rise. Just flour and water and the starter. In the morning, pull out a cupful of starter and put it aside. Then mix your eggs or whatever into your sponge and cook it.”

&
nbsp; “I didn’t have any eggs,” I told her.

  “You should get some chickens,” she replied. “There’s nothing like a pan full of eggs and some flapjacks to make your belly happy.”

  “Amen to that,” said Alvin as he and the crew filed in.

  Samantha had been cooking while we were talking and put out a big pile that they demolished in no time. The syrup hit the spot, adding just enough sweetness that we all felt we’d died and gone to heaven.

  She started to wash up, and I let her, while I went and counted out a half-dollar for her day’s work.

  I debated giving her more, but didn’t want to encourage her. She took the money, said “Thank you,” handed me the dishtowel and walked out the door. Bear followed at her heels.

  The men were laughing and talking and working with great energy, but when she saddled up and rode away, with Bear loping ahead, they seemed to lose all interest.

  “Couldn’t we keep her, boss?” Pete asked.

  “No,” I said. He reminded me of a kid wanting to keep a stray for a pet.

  They resumed work, but the joy was gone from the morning. Sam had taken it with her. The men worked slower, more methodical, and the laughing and joking was gone.

  I followed the men outside, and we started the afternoon work, getting the bunkhouse built. We put it on the north side of a tree which would give it some shade at the hottest part of the day. We trimmed the logs flat on one side with a bucking saw and finished them with a draw knife, then laid the logs down to form a floor. It worked well. We went in for a lunch of beans and coffee.

  I’d sent Joe in ahead to set out the lunch fixings. When I went in, he was standing besides Sam, holding a pan of biscuits. The smell of fresh biscuit was wonderful.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded.

  “Well, I was on my way back to town, and this grouse was running beside the road, and I got to thinking about chicken and dumplings.”