“Abraham, you are very young to be on your own. When did your mother die?” Tillie asked.
“Mother died last winter. She just never got over losing dad. After the nightriders burned our house, Mother and I stayed with her friend until mother died,” he said.
“One day, I was going through the garbage cans behind the eating place. The Chinese cook came out and brought me food. Every day I go by the backdoor of the eating place, and the Chinese cook feeds me. He told me an angel was paying him to feed me. Then I started cleaning the stable for Mr. Price, and he let me sleep in the barn loft. When Mr. Price is drunk, I go to my hiding place down by the river where the angel sings. Nobody can find me there. The angel still feeds me every day,” Abraham said.
“Tell me about your father and Mr. Walley,” Tillie asked.
Abraham Cole sat looking into the campfire. A moment before he had been all smiles, but now his face was pained. “When the war talks finally got to this town, the people never talked about anything else,” Abraham related. “It became their passion. When Pa and I walked down the street, Pa avoided the groups of men standing around in long-winded conversations. There were loud discussions on every corner of town. Strange men came to town and kept the men all stirred up. Pa and Mr. Walley just spent all their time building the barge. When the stream was high in the spring, they planned to float it down to the river and start a ferryboat business—ferrying folks and goods from one side to the other. I was young and didn’t understand, but momma told me Pa and Mr. Walley didn’t like the talk and tried to stay away from the people like Mr. Price. He was for the Confederates and was always stirring up trouble. A troublemaker is always full of hate.”
“Mother said the devil wants us to hate each other and be ugly to one another. God has for us a special kind of love for Him that helps us get along. Both love and hate are powerful passions that can rule a person’s heart and ruin their lives. She told me I was young, ‘but I best know what she was telling me is true. Either love or hate will have a lot to say about how we folks live our lives.’ ”
One night dad and Mr. Walley snuck out of town and joined the Union Army because they refused to join the Confederate Army. They were both killed at the end of the war. That’s all Mother ever told me except to say my father was a mighty good man,” Abraham finished his story, and his eyes came back into focus and looked at Tillie.
“I can’t believe someone in this town doesn’t want a nice-looking boy like you. How would you like to stay with us for a while, and let’s just see how things work out? You and Danny get along well, and I think I would like to have two sons,” Tillie said.
Abraham was beside himself with joy, but then a cloud came over his face.
“What is it, Abraham? Don’t you want to come with us?” Tillie asked.
“I surely do, but Mr. Price will be mad and beat me if he finds out I am not going to work for him anymore,” he said.
“Abraham, as of right now, you no longer work for Mr. Price. I want you and Danny to stay here in camp and let me handle the problems that Mr. Price might start. You are now part of my family, and when we leave, you will be with us,” Tillie said.
Danny was happy with what his mother had said, and the two boys started making plans.
“Boys, I need to get the smithy to attend to the mules. Tomorrow I will take two mules at a time and have the blacksmith check their hooves. I want you two to take care of Mary while I’m in town. If I see Mr. Price, I will explain to him that you no longer work for him, and that will be that,” Tillie said confidently.
Morning came too quickly for Tillie when the day started with all six mules braying at the same time. The Conestoga wagon was the biggest wagon Uncle Buck could find for Tillie. He had known they might have to live in it and made sure she had the best wagon and mules he could find. Tillie and the three children had slept comfortably. Now she needed to go about finding out if this was a safe place to winter away from the grandmother. Danny would have to explain the ornery nature of the mules to Abraham and how to handle them without getting kicked or bitten. Abraham would be a great help for Danny and Tillie.
Across the misty morning, not yet daylight, the sound of the blacksmith's hammer rang loud and clear across the mountain valley. As she walked through the town, she thought, ‘I will get all the supplies we need and always be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.’ Tillie felt at ease. Cutthroat Creek, although the name of this town was unnerving to Tillie, was a remote valley town that could not possibly have any connections with the town of Hunter.
Doris King was an early riser, and this was her free time from the Snake Bit Saloon. She had just visited the sheriff’s office, where she had gone through a stack of bulletins on the desk. Doris found what she was was looking for in short order. Jacobson was like most of the men she knew, a snake-in-the-grass. He had found a way to recoup his losses at the poker tables and then some. As Doris lifted her dress to cross the dirt street, Tillie Bonner was leading the first set of mules down to the blacksmith shop.
Tillie had seen this woman last night as she passed the saloon. From her dress, Tillie knew this lady was one of the saloon women. It was not in her to be uppity or snobbish, so Tillie extended a warm “Good morning! It looks like you and I are the only early risers!” she said.
This kind greeting took Doris by surprise. She had to grin at the enormous mules that were being led by such a petite woman. “Those mules look awful imposing to me, but they seem to follow you with not a bit of reluctance. I would say they know you are their master,” Doris said.
Tillie held up the whip in her right hand. “This is what gets their attention!” she said.
The two women laughed. Doris not wanting to lose such a warm conversation with a bright and friendly lady went on to say, “I normally get out early because this valley in the cool of the morning has a soothing effect that warms my weary soul.”
“My name is Tillie Bonner, and I know what you mean! It’s hard sometimes with the busy life we women lead to get a moment of peace and quiet. We cherish each moment.”
“Well, Tillie Bonner, you just made my day. I will let you go because I can see you are in a hurry but thank you for your kind words this morning. I hope we can talk again,” she said. Doris had not offered her name to Tillie because a woman in her trade was not someone that a lady consorted or conversed. Crossing the street, Doris went directly to the rooms above the saloon. Looking at the three women sleeping, she shook a sleeping woman and said, “Shirley, wakeup! Wakeup, I said!”
Groggily the woman responded, “Doris go away. It’s not even six in the morning. I just got to bed a couple of hours ago.”
“Answer my questions, and you can go back to sleep,” Doris said.
“Okay, what is it you want?” the Shirley asked.
“Where is Betty? That’s all I want to know,” Doris asked.
“Well, why didn’t you say so. Room five at the end of the hall.
A few minutes later, Doris unlocked the door to room number five. The room was dark. The smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke made her queasy. “Wake up, Betty! I need to talk to you. I need to talk to you right now!” Doris said.
Betty didn’t respond coherently, and it took a while for Doris to get her awake. “For goodness sake, Doris, what in the world do you want at this early hour?” Rolling over, Betty grabbed a pillow and covered her head.
“Betty, I want to know where you came from when you hired in here at the Snake Bit?” Doris asked.
“Why do you want to know that? It’s none of your business anyway. Go away and leave me alone!” Betty said.
“If you want to get some sleep today, answer my questions, and do it now!” Doris said emphatically.
Raising her head and opening one eye, she tried to think. “All right, let see, there was a town called tent city…where cowboys unloaded cattle all the time. That was…oh I can’t remember! Wait...from Tent City I went to River Bend then there was this sawmill town. It wa
s a sawmill town in the north it was. Lord, Doris, I can’t remember the names of the towns I’ve been in. I ain’t no spring chicken, you know. Oh, I remember it was Hunter, that’s it…Hunter,” Betty said.
Doris unfolded the bulletin she had in her hand. “Tell me about Hunter,” she said.
“Doris, what can I tell you about a town I was in a year ago?” Betty asked wearily.
“You can start at the beginning. Now tell me about Hunter!” Doris insisted.
“It is a sawmill town. Everyone there works for the mill. A mean old woman owns the entire town and makes everyone’s life miserable,” Betty said.
“Tell me what the men you knew said about the town,” Doris said.
“Doris, this is highly unusual!” Betty said. “I didn’t like the place. The men that worked in the mill didn’t like it either. There was one old man that seemed to be the most respected in town. I liked him.”
“What was his job…a judge or something?” Doris asked.
“No, as a matter of fact, he was the town’s garbage man. He was nice to me. He carried my packages down the street when the nice folks of Hunter crossed to the other side. He was the janitor for most of the businesses there. I met him one day as he was sweeping the boardwalk. He was very polite and even tipped his hat to me as I passed by. Funny, he had the same last name as the woman who ran the mill,” Betty said.
“What was his name?” Doris asked.
“Bonner. Now can I go back to sleep?” Betty said.
Looking at the bulletin, she muttered, ‘Tillie Bonner,’ “Now you can go back to sleep,” Doris said.
ααααααα
Earlier that morning, Tillie had passed the livery barn and on impulse had entered to let Mr. Price know upfront that Abraham would not be working for him anymore. Not finding the man, she wrote a note and left it on the sign-in table to that effect. Tillie had continued along the street, leading the mules to the blacksmith's shop. The sign over the door said, Jake Burns-Buggy Repair-Smithy. The blacksmith stood looking at a wagon wheel with a busted spoke. Seeing Tillie with the two big mules, he smiled. The smile creased scar on the side of his face added an odd expression to his otherwise jolly face. “Ma’am, can I help you?” he asked. The deep voice was smooth and had a friendly effect on Tillie.
“I need you to look my mules over, especially their hooves. I’ve come a long way and have far to go before the snow,” Tillie said.
Walking around the mules, he said. “This is as nice a pair of mules as I’ve seen come thought here. When I finish this wheel, I will check the hooves. They look to need a bit of work, but I don’t see any splitting. I should have them ready for you in about an hour.”
Tillie responded, “I have a six-mule team and will have my boys bring you another pair to look over in about an hour. I will bring you the last pair and pay you for your work before noon.” The man nodded his agreement and returned to his work on the wheel.
Tillie paused for a minute and turned to ask the smithy, “Excuse, but if I may ask a question. This town is a quiet, pleasant one for a name such as Cutthroat Creek. Could you tell me how the town came by its name?”
The blacksmith stopped his work again and with a distorted grin simply said, “Named after the cutthroat fish in the creek!”
Tillie smiled and said, “Thank you! That’s a relief!” She was pleased the blacksmith didn’t ask any questions. Now to get the supplies she needed just in case she had to leave in a hurry. She felt secure. No one had asked where she was from or where she was going. The day was warm as she moved along the street.
Stopping in the General Store, Tillie’s new cautious nature took in the three people standing around. A lady behind the counter raised her head from the list she was adding to and said, “We will be with you in a minute. William is out back, loading a wagon.”
“I’m in no hurry!” Tillie said, walking around the store.
After a while, the proprietor came in from the back, wiping his brow. Tillie presented her list and waited for the man to read through the list. “I should have everything on this list. I don’t see a wagon outside. Do you want me to stack the grain bags out on the boardwalk?” he asked.
“I am camped down by the creek. Can I get you to deliver everything down there today?” Tillie asked.
The proprietor replied, “I will be glad to. I can have it there this morning. I can head out that direction as soon as I finish getting my wagon loaded.”
Tillie paid for the supplies and headed back to the campsite. An hour had passed, and it was time to round up the second pair of mules.
Across the street, Doris King looked out of a second-story window watching Tillie’s progress through town. A puff of smoke caught her eye, and she saw Pace Jacobson light a cigarette. He was watching Tillie from the other side of the street. Mumbling to herself, she said, ‘I don’t want to get involved in this. I would surely like to help her stay free of that weasel’s plan, though.’ Closing the curtain, she retreated into the apartment she had called home for the past five years. Sitting down at a table, she read the bulletin one more time and rolled over in her mind what Betty had told her concerning Hunter. Doris reconsidered her earlier statement and thought, ‘On second thought tomorrow morning, I think I will just walk down to the stream and look around.’
Tillie walked back to the campsite. Looking around, she smiled. Danny had taken to camping well. He had banked the campfire. The boys already had a supply of sticks piled high for campfire cooking. The water barrel was full, and they had hung a clothesline for her. Two of the mules stood three-legged dosing in the morning sun ready to be taken to the blacksmith. Walking down to the stream, she waved to the three sitting across the stream fishing off the barge.
‘I like this place,’ she thought. ‘With some work, we will be able to weather the cold winter. A high bank would be the perfect place to place the wagon from the north wind. Water was at hand from the creek with plenty of fish’.
“Boys come over here!” Tillie called over the sound of the flowing water. Quickly Danny and Abraham waded across the stream with Mary sitting on Abrahams's shoulders. “Boys take these mules down to the Blacksmith’s shop, and when he’s through with the first two mules, bring them back,” she said.
“Okay, Momma,” Danny said. He lifted Mary onto the gentlest riding mule, Bandit. Danny and Abraham each lead a mule heading into town. It was a happy time for the kids.
ααααααα
The day started roughly at the stables. Nursing a bad head, George Price stood in the middle of the livery barn looking at the stalls that were emitting a repugnant odor. Where was that blasted boy! Abraham was usually way ahead of cleaning the stalls. He never let them get this bad. By this time, the boy would have moved the horses to the corral before Price had even awakened. This morning he was nowhere to be found. ‘He will get his ears boxed for this!’ Price swore as he started moving the horses out of the stalls cursing the useless son of that blue belly sympathizer. A customer brought Price to the front of his livery and, in the process of checking in the customer’s horse, noticed the note Tillie had left. He had become accustomed to having the boy take care of his business, and the thought of not having Abraham to do his work angered him greatly.
Pace Jacobson lit a cigarette he had just rolled and blinked through the smoke that swirled around his face. He was smoking too much these days but had no will to quit. He watched Tillie until she was out of sight before heading to the blacksmith’s shop.
“Jake, that is a fine pair of mules. I couldn’t help but notice them coming through town last night. A lady driving a six-up is quite unusual,” Pace said.
Jake thought it was unusual for the town slacker to be interested in a pair of mules, but he answered. “Pretty young thing with a couple of kids. Said she had come a long way and needed the mules checked out. Said she has a long way to go before the snow flies.”
“Where is she headed this time of year?” Pace asked.
“She didn�
��t say, and I didn’t ask,” Burns said.
“Well, I ask too many questions. Just making small talk,” Pace said. Leaving the blacksmith shop, he headed for the telegraph office. ‘It sounded like the woman would be pulling out soon. I haven’t gotten a reply to my telegraph message I sent last night,’ he thought.
“Morning, Pace,” Walter Snow said as Pace stepped onto the boardwalk.
“Well, Snow?” Pace asked, looking around suspiciously.
“I received a telegram just a few minutes ago. If we had a sheriff, God rest his soul, you could have gotten him involved, then all you would have to do is claim the reward,” Snow said.
“Walter, you are way too interested in my affairs. We don’t have a sheriff and that is why I need to keep this quiet. It is an inquiry to the whereabouts of a lady and her two kids and I have claimed the reward,” Pace said.
Pace stood and read the telegram to himself.
The Honorable Judge Herman Hayes of Hunter, Colorado, is deploying Pinkerton agents. STOP
Local authorities are to discuss guardianship of Danny and Mary Bonner. STOP
Judge Hayes will arrange for their return to Hunter. STOP
“Now Walter, this don’t concern you. In your position, you cannot get involved. If you keep your mouth shut, I will make it worth your while. There are no authorities in this valley until the circuit judge shows up to handle the town's legal affairs. He is not due for another week. If she runs, no one in this town has the authority to stop her. That will knock me out of the reward. The Pinkertons will not be here for several days with the judge’s papers. I need to figure a way to delay her departure,” Pace said.
ααααααα
Tillie clipped the lead ropes onto the last two mules. She would meet the boys coming back with the first set of mules. She wanted the mules back and ready if they needed to leave. When she reached the main road of town, she could see the boys leading the mules her way. Each was holding one of Mary’s hands and swinging her between them. She smiled to herself and considered Abraham. He was a lot more complicated than was visible, and she wanted to know all about him. He hadn’t told her his complete story. She thought he had issues that he had buried deep in his heart and mind.
Winter Crossing Page 3