Eagle topped a rise and sighted four huge gray wolves snarling at one another. Something was dead, and it seemed there was some disagreement as to the ownership of it. Perhaps it was a vaca from the Tejano herd. These were predators who, if they weren’t already causing trouble, would do so at some future time. Eagle raised the Winchester and fired once, twice, three times. He killed two of the wolves, but the other two vanished like smoke. Sheathing the Winchester, the Indian trotted his horse ahead to see what had attracted the wolves. The horse snorted, refusing to go near the bodies of the dead wolves.
The triple bark of the Winchester was the most glorious sound Dan had ever heard. Almost immediately a horse snorted, but when Dan tried to cry out, his throat was dry and there was only a croak. Frantically he took another mouthful of snow and was able to make a noise that at least sounded human.
Dan’s weary companions were exhausted and half frozen when they heard the three rapid shots from the Winchester. It drove new life into them, and they turned their horses into the wind.
Eagle tied one end of the lariat to the saddle horn, looping the other end over the hind legs of the dead horse. He had no idea who was trapped beneath the horse, and it was hard to tell who was more surprised when Dan finally faced the Indian. Dan got to his knees, then unsteadily to his feet, and accepted a hand out of the ravine.
“Gracias,” Dan said.
Eagle said nothing, his hand on his Colt, for six riders were approaching. Finally the Indian relaxed, for he recognized the riders and they recognized him. Nobody spoke. They were exhausted, numb with cold. Eagle mounted, gave Dan a hand up behind him. Dan was missing his saddle and Winchester, but they would have to wait. Eagle followed the other riders to the secluded valley, to the warmth of the fires, to hot coffee.
“Eagle,” Lenore shouted joyously as they rode in. She didn’t even seem to notice that Dan didn’t have a horse. She flew to the Indian the moment he had dismounted, and he didn’t seem all that embarrassed as she fussed over him.
Dan shucked his coat and stood before the fire, rubbing his arms. Skull and the rest of the riders who had gone on the futile wolf hunt were describing Dan’s ordeal and telling of Eagle’s rescue. While Lenore devoted her attention to Eagle, the other women prepared him some hot food. He devoured it all and was given more.
“I think,” Dan said, when he felt like talking, “we’ll leave the wolf hunting alone. By the time they’ve finished with my horse, the storm will have blown itself out and the snow shouldn’t be a problem.”
The storm did ease up before the day was over. The wind swept the clouds away, and for several hours the long-absent sun made an appearance, blinding them with its brilliance against the white of the snow. By sundown even the wind seemed warm. The temperature had risen to the point that most of the riders shucked their coats.
“Another day like this,” Cash Connolly said, “and we’ll be able to take the herd out of here.”
“We got no choice,” Garret Haddock said. “Another day here and they’ll be too weak to get out. They’re so gaunt you can count their ribs.”
“No worse than the horses,” Monte Walsh said. “That’s what bothers me about ranching on this plains country. Suppose it was to snow like this for a week or more, and a hard freeze kept the snow from meltin’? Hell’s fire, a man could be wiped out.”*
“It’ll take some planning ahead,” Dan said. “You’ll have to build hay sheds, and during the summer and fall fill them with hay. Cattle and horses can stand the cold. It’s the lack of graze that’ll get them.”
“We be farmers,” Palo said.
“Farmers as well as ranchers,” Wolf Bowdre said. “I’ll cut and store hay before I’ll watch my stock starve to death in deep snow.”
The next morning at first light the riders began driving the cattle and the horses out of the valley. No graze remained, and while the snow had only begun to melt, patches of grass were visible. The horses and mules wasted no time pawing away the snow to reach the graze beneath it.
“I reckon we’ll just leave our camp where it is,” Dan said, “at least until spring. It’ll be far easier to ride watch on the herd than to move them to and from graze morning and night.”
Following the thaw, Dan and Wolf took a wagon to Dodge to replenish their supplies. To their surprise, despite the snow, the town had grown remarkably.
Wagonloads of lumber had been dropped at various locations, and at most of them men labored to erect buildings. Already the walls of the mercantile had begun to rise around those of the enormous tent. When the roof went up, the tent would come down. Even as Dan and Wolf watched, yet another caravan of wagons approached from the east, following the Arkansas.
“With all this activity,” Wolf said, “there just ain’t no tellin’ what we’ll find in that store.”
Before reaching the store, they encountered Yeager, the U.S. Marshal, and he had some news for Dan.
“Drive on out to the fort before you leave,” Yeager said. “I told you there was a reward for that varmint you shot. It’s waitin’ for you. All I’ll need is for you to sign a receipt, and you can have it.”
“Thanks,” Dan said. “I’ll see you before we leave.”
“That’s what I call gettin’ even,” Bowdre said. “You gunned down the hombre that tried to kill you, and then collected a bounty on the bastard’s hide. For all my years in Texas, I never saw a thousand dollars all in one pile.”
“I don’t take any pleasure in money for killing a man,” Dan said. “Not even a varmint like Black Bill. But I reckon I’ll take it. If I can find what I want at this new mercantile, I’ll have need of it.”
Dan reined up the team off to one side of the mercantile tent. Having made their purchases, they could then back up the wagon to load it. A pair of teamsters came out as Dan and Wolf started in.
“Better stay out of there,” one of the bull whackers said. “A preacher’s in there, and he’s beggin’ money to build a church.”
“You ought to contribute,” Wolf said, grinning at Dan. “You’re goin’ to be needin’ a church and a preacher, from what I hear.”
“You know a hell of a lot about my business,” Dan said. “Who’s talking?”
“Who do you reckon? The women are practically layin’ bets as to how long it’ll be until Adeline proves up her claim and snares you.”
“Damn it,” Dan said, “I don’t know as I like havin’ everybody in the outfit decidin’ what I’m about to do before I’ve made up my own mind. We’ve been together for months. Adeline’s kept to her blankets and me to mine, and by God, if anybody’s said anything to the contrary—”
“Whoa up,” Wolf said soothingly, “and don’t get your tail all twisted. Nobody’s sayin’ anything’s improper. Adeline’s a handsome woman, and I reckon everybody in the outfit would like to see the two of you in double harness.”
“I appreciate their feelings,” Dan said testily, “but I don’t like somebody behind me with a prod pole, forcing me to jump before I’m ready.”
Sure enough, before they’d had a chance to more than get through the door, they encountered the new preacher.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “I am the Reverend Augustus Littlefield, and I—”
“Do you perform weddings?” Dan interrupted.
“Well, I … ” the man stammered, looking from Dan to Wolf.
“Oh, not me and him,” Dan said, disgusted. Wolf roared with laughter.
“Yes,” Littlefield said, recovering his composure. “I perform weddings.”
“Then when I’m ready, consider mine paid for,” Dan said. He handed the surprised preacher a double eagle.
“We’d make quite a team,” Wolf chuckled as they progressed through the tent mercantile, “although I reckon it’d shock hell out of Fanny and Adeline.”
“Oh, shut up,” Dan said.
The new store even had week-old copies of the Wichita Tribune. Dan took a dozen copies, and Wolf began reading the front page of one.
It was good news, but Dan still had in the back of his mind what they’d been told by the Masterson brothers. The store was well-stocked, exceeding Dan’s expectations. There was a locked glass showcase of assorted jewelery and pocket watches. Surprisingly, the mercantile didn’t have boomtown prices. Dan and Wolf went beyond the necessary supplies, buying a few luxuries such as tinned peaches and tomatoes. They bought two hundred pounds of potatoes and fifty pounds of onions.
“Everything we need for beef stew,” Wolf said. “It’s likely against the law for a Texan admittin’ this, but I’m damn tired of beef cooked over an open fire.”
“Won’t be long,” said one of the storekeepers, “till you can get fresh bacon, ham, and sausage. Gent just north of here, up on Duck Creek, is raisin’ hogs. He aims to bring in chickens, soon as he can figger a way to keep the damn coyotes and wolves from gettin’ em.”
When they were finished at the store and had the wagon loaded, Dan drove on to Fort Dodge.
“We’ll just leave the wagon outside the gate and you can stay with it,” he told Wolf. “I shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”
He found Marshal Yeager in his office.
“You’ll have to take a bank draft,” Yeager said. “You can cash this at the store. I’ve already told them you have the money coming, so you won’t have any trouble.”
“You’re a gent who thinks ahead,” Dan said. “Thanks.”
On their way back to camp, they had to drive through Dodge, past the mercantile, and Dan reined up there.
“I want to cash this bank draft,” he said. He had no trouble doing so, and it was the perfect opportunity to purchase something he wished nobody else to know about. He had to gamble on the size, and he still needed to talk to Eagle, but he would be ready when the time came.
By the last week in March the grass began to green. It would be an early spring. Eagle had proven himself more than adequate as a cowboy, and could “drop a loop” with the best of them. As the weather warmed, the Indian and Lenore often rode off together.
“That girl’s just asking for trouble,” Dan said. “I reckon I’ll have to talk to Eagle.”
Adeline said nothing, turning away, and he had the distinct impression that she knew something he did not… .
“April fourteenth comes on Saturday,” Dan said. “I think that would be a good time for you and me to ride into Dodge.”
“For what reason?” Adeline asked, surprised.
“There’s a preacher there that owes me twenty dollars,” Dan said, his eyes twinkling, “and I thought we’d just take it out in trade.”
It was suppertime, and just about everybody heard his proposal. There was shouting and laughing, and it took a moment for Adeline to comprehend what he was suggesting. Finally she threw her arms around him, laughing and crying in turn. Only one of the outfit seemed not to share her joy. Lenore looked alone and forlorn. Dan almost spoke to her, but Eagle’s eyes were on the girl, and Dan said nothing. Something had to happen, and the next day, just after supper, it did. ...
A warm wind whispered through the young cotton-woods and willows along the river, and most of the women were washing clothes in the shallows. The grass was already high enough for the cattle and horses to go after the young shoots hungrily. By midday the women who were doing the cooking already had four huge iron pots spidered over the cook fires. There was an aroma of onions, potatoes, and beef simmering. Supper would be early, allowing the first watch to reach the grazing herd before dark. Dan watched Lenore, and the girl ate nothing. Such had been the case for almost a week. Eagle ate rapidly, but for once not for the purpose of taking seconds. There was tension in the air, an uneasiness they all felt. Eagle got to his feet, went to Lenore and took her hand. She rose, and they walked to where Adeline sat, Dan beside her. “Eagle take squaw,” the Indian said. “Esposa.”*
Nobody spoke. There was only the sigh of the wind. In Lenore’s eyes there was mute appeal, in Eagle’s nothing. Dan thought Adeline would get up and go to the girl, but she didn’t. When she finally spoke, it was to Eagle.
“Eagle take squaw,” she said. “Esposa,”
Again there was utter silence. Nobody seemed to know whether to laugh or to cry. Dan got up, and taking the gold band he had bought at the mercantile, took Lenore’s left hand and placed it on her ring finger. The girl reacted in a way none of them expected. She threw her arms around Dan and sobbed until there were no tears left. Eagle waited, expressionless, saying nothing. When Lenore turned away from Dan, it was to the Indian, and he led her away. Those elected to ride the first watch seemed eager to leave, and began saddling their horses. The rest quickly recalled tasks that needed doing, and moved rapidly away. Even Denny hurried away to his horse, leaving Dan and Adeline alone.
“That took a lot of courage,” Dan said.
“Not really. We do what must be done. There’s a lot of savage in him, but he’s all the man any woman could ask. He’s a good man, and someday he’ll be a better
one. But he’ll never be the equal of you. You’re so much more than a cowboy, Daniel Ember. That ring meant more to her than anything that I could have said or done. How … how did you know?”
“She’ll never get him before a preacher,” Dan said. “That’s all she’ll have. That and Eagle’s word.”
“That should be enough,” Adeline said. “It had to be his choice, and I forbade Lenore to try and force him.”
‘‘He’s an Indian,” Dan said. “Force him how?”
“He’s a man, and he has pride,” Adeline said. “Before snow flies, Lenore will have his child.”
The days and nights were warm. Lenore and Eagle took to spreading their blankets far enough away to afford them some privacy. Denny continued spending his nights with the horse remuda, leaving Dan and Adeline pretty much to themselves. They spent their nights talking. Or Adeline did. Dan mostly listened.
“When we stand before the preacher,” she asked, “will we be alone, or do you aim for the rest of the outfit to be there?”
“Just us,” Dan said. “Won’t take more than a few minutes, and since the reverend don’t have a church, we’ll have to use the chapel at the fort. When that’s done, we’ll take us a room at that highfalutin hotel, and the fewer folks we have around, the better.”
“It would be nice,” she said, “not to spend our first night on a blanket beside the river. Already I’m missing the old cabin beside the Rio Grande. It all seemed so simple. Drive our cattle to the railroad, sell them, and then take up ranching. Now we find the railroad is months away, and we’ll be facing another of these terrible winters that I don’t think any of us expected.”
“No, we won’t be spending another winter in the open,” Dan said, “because we can’t wait for the railroad. Chato appreciates what we did for him with the horse remuda, but Palo tells me Chato and his men wish to return to Mexico. They won’t wait another year or more for the railroad.”
“But we don’t have the money we promised them.”
“We’re going to,” Dan said, “because after that last trip to town, I know something I didn’t know before. The rails have already passed through Newton, and it’s less than a hundred and forty miles east of here. I aim to ride out of here with one of these wagon trains and find us a cattle buyer in Newton. The part of the herd that we aim to sell, we can drive to Newton. We can make it in two weeks, easy. We’ll just follow the Arkansas, and there’ll be water all the way.”
“Oh,” she cried, “it’s a wonderful idea. When will you go?”
“Not until after the fourteenth,” he said, laughing. “I aim to lay this before the rest of the outfit, maybe tomorrow, and be sure they approve.”
“I don’t know why in the world they wouldn’t. It’ll mean we can settle on some land and have some kind of roof over our heads before another winter.”
“And we won’t h
ave Chato and his boys becoming more impatient by the day,” Dan said.
Dodge City, Kansas. Saturday, April 14, 1871.
Amid the shouts and laughter of the outfit, Dan and Adeline set out for Dodge. After months on the trail, nobody questioned their wish for privacy.
“First we’ll stop at the mercantile,” Dan said. “A woman ought to have some finery on her marryin’ day, and we’ll need a ring.”
“Why, I … I never expected such,” Adeline said. “Is … is this our money?”
“Every peso,” Dan said.
Adeline swapped her boots for slippers, and her shirt, Levi’s, and hat for a stylish dress and bonnet.
“You’ll have to change at the fort,” Dan said. “I won’t have you ridin’ astraddle in that.”
From the display, Adeline chose a ring that fit, and they rode along the river to Fort Dodge. The Reverend Littlefield was waiting for them in the marshal’s office. Deuce Yeager had ridden to Wichita.
“We’ll need a place for Adeline to change out of her ridin’ clothes and into her finery,” Dan said.
“She can use the chapel,” Littlefield replied. “We’ll wait here.”
It took Adeline only a few minutes to change, and just a little longer for Littlefield to perform the brief ceremony. Dan gave the preacher another double eagle.
“I don’t charge a fee,” Littlefield said. “Besides, you’ve already given to the church.”
“Then I’m giving to it again,” Dan said. “I’d like to keep you all dressed up,” he told Adeline, “but you’d better change back. We have to ride to the hotel.”
Already Dodge had a livery. Dan and Adeline left their horses there and began the short walk to the hotel. They had ridden past the two tent saloons, and as they neared the first one, a man stepped out.
“Mister,” he shouted, “them two hosses belonged to me and to my outfit.”
The Dodge City Trail Page 31