Winter Crossing

by James E Ferrell

  Pace wiped his unshaven face with the back of his hand. He wanted to be rebellious, but that had been the only good thing offered. Taking his hat off, he slapped it against his filthy coat and picked up the money. “Much obliged, Chet. You are a true friend,” Pace said.

  The gambler watched him slowly shuffle over to the bathhouse then pulled his gold pocket watch out and checked the time.

  The grimy man sitting in the corner walked to the bar, reaching down and quickly picking up the crumpled paper that Jacobson had thrown at Shiver’s feet. Getting another beer, he sat back in the corner and read and reread the paper before folding it and placing it in his coat pocket. His horse was about done in, but a five-day head start wasn’t much for mules pulling a big wagon. There was only one wagon road down these mountains and snow was coming. He knew these mountains well. He thought, ‘A woman and two little kids…for a man with vision and imagination this could be a mighty cozy winter.’

  ααααααα

  The river had been a godsend for Tillie. She had been greatly relieved. Even she didn’t realize how the river had distanced them from the town of Cutthroat Creek. Danny on the other hand had lost a new friend. The plans they had made had come to naught. Now it was daylight to dark moving and looking back over their shoulder. The weather had started changing. The days were shorter and the wind had taken on a chill.

  Tillie cut another slice of salt-cured bacon from the slab and dropped it into her black iron skillet. Her small campfire, protected by a canvas overhang, was attached to the side of her Conestoga wagon. Danny and Mary lay in the wagon listening to the rain.

  “Danny, you and Mary might as well stay under the warm covers for as long as you can. It doesn’t look like we will be traveling this day, and this wet weather really puts a chill in the air,” Tillie said.

  The livery door slammed shut. Tillie listened as the old man pushed it back and propped it open again with a large pole. Camping in a livery stable was bad enough, but with the doors closed, the smell from within was more than she could take.

  “Missy, you watch that fire! If it gets out of hand, I would be out a barn, and you would be out a wagon,” the old livery man grumbled a few more words of discord and continued his cleaning of the stalls at the far end of the barn.

  They had arrived in Buckley, Colorado, just before the rains set in. For the past week, her wagon had sat by the Buckley livery. Tillie had been hoping a wagon train would come through that they could join. Surely by now, Mira Bonner would have men looking for them.

  Winter was at hand and it was getting too late in the year to be traveling. But Tillie was desperate and ready to get as far away from Hunter, Colorado, as she could. Rain or not, she had to get some distance between them and her dead husband’s mother.

  For months she had secretly planned their escape, not realizing that her husband would provide the final way out of a bad marriage and force her hand before spring. With Uncle Buck’s help, she had quietly sold everything she could. After Phil’s death, she had taken money from her closet that he had hidden for her in a shoebox.

  Uncle Buck had been her closest friend and confidant. He and his close circle of friends had helped Tillie against the powerful and rich grandmother. Quietly they had helped Buck find a wagon and team for Tillie to make the journey south. She had kept her intentions from the kids until the very last moment knowing they could never keep a secret from their grandmother.

  Tomorrow, rain or shine, she was going to head south again. Travelers had told her the way south-east was passable, and she wanted more distance from Hunter. Tillie had always been an independent type and was eager to be on her way. She would be content to live her life free from a man’s affection. There were a lot worse things in life than living alone. Besides, she had her children. They would be company enough for the next twenty years.

  By the next morning, the rains had stopped, and before daylight, Tillie woke Danny up. Working together, they harnessed the sleepy mules. It promised to be a warm sunny day even though a cold wind was building from the north.

  “Leave your sister sleeping for as long as she will. That will be just that many fewer questions we will have to answer,” Tillie said, grinning at her son. Mary was a chatterbox and talked from the time she got up until the time she went to bed.

  “Mother, are we going to leave by ourselves?” Danny asked.

  “We have to! There are no more wagon trains headed south this late in the year. I really want to put some miles between Hunter and us,” Tillie responded.

  “I am glad we are leaving mom. We will be okay. I’m almost a man and I can take care of you and Mary,” Danny stated with pride.

  Tillie embraced her eleven-year-old and said, “Danny, you will be twelve in a few months and this will be a good experience for us. You will grow up in a wide-open country, not stuck in a dingy apartment. I will be free of the gossips around Hunter. Whatever happens, we will just keep on going and make the best of every situation we find ourselves in.”

  She thought to herself for a minute then stepped over to where Danny sat on an old bench. Tillie decided it was time for a little talk with her son. “I want you to know why I was in such an all-fired hurry to get you and Mary out of Hunter.” Danny leaned his head against his mother’s arm and waited for her to explain. “I had been getting word that Grandmother Bonner was going to try and take you and Mary away from me,” Tillie said.

  “Mom, we don’t want to live with Grandmother. Wherever you are, that’s where we want to be,” Danny said.

  “Well, I was hoping you felt that way. Now, let me finish telling you what the townspeople were saying so we can get out of here. Several months ago, your father was mad drunk and told me your grandmother was pushing him to say I had been unfaithful to him so she could get control of you and Mary. She was mad at me because I wouldn’t let your father move us all in to live in her big mansion. Your father was weak when it came to her. He agreed to what she said, knowing all she wanted was to take control of you two,” Tillie said.

  She sighed and ground the toe of her boot in the dirt. “Your daddy told me he had some money hid in the closet in a shoebox and if anything ever happened to him, I was to take the money and get away from her. He didn’t want you to fall into his mother’s hands. In hindsight, I now think he was planning to end his life then. The money bought this wagon and mules. We should have left earlier in the year, but I just couldn’t leave your daddy because he needed us. Now I find I have waited too late in the season to be traveling,” Tillie said.

  Tillie continued, “After his death, your grandmother told the gossips in town, who should have known better, that your daddy killed himself because I had a boyfriend and was cheating on him. It never occurred to her that the way she controlled him was killing his spirit.”

  “Mom, I wouldn’t have believed what she said,” Danny said.

  “I wasn’t worried about you, but Mary is small and impressionable. She may have believed anything her grandmother told her. You are my children and I would never think of letting you live with anyone but me. Now it looks as if I have put you in danger, bringing you out here this time of the year,” Tillie stated.

  “Mom, I am sorry about Dad. I know you are not responsible for his death like Grandma said,” Danny said gently.

  “Danny, just remember the good things about your dad and build on the good qualities we loved about him and you will be alright,” Tillie said.

  The wagon rolled out of the livery before first light. It had taken Danny and Tillie an hour to get the six mules harnessed, but by daylight the team stood ready to move out.

  The morning Tillie’s wagon left Buckley, a man stood watching her and the two small children leave as they headed over the mountain road. Later that day, he saddled his horse and made his way out of town.

  There was not a finer team of mules around, but mules are ornery, and working the heavy leather reins was difficult for Tillie. Reaching below the seat, she pulled the leather brai
ded whip out. She had managed the first fifty miles with Sonny explaining what she was doing wrong. Now, she would have to do the best she could.

  Daylight to dark, Tillie pushed the team getting up early and quitting late trying to get beyond the mountain pass and down country. Her eyes were always looking for a good spot to winter. The days grew shorter as winter approached, and the shorter daylight hours curtailed travel. Lines of worry were ever on her face as she watched the weather.

  The trail south was empty of travelers and she knew that she had put her children in danger because it was too late in the year to be traveling. She began to look for a shelter of some sort that they could use to get the mules and themselves out of the weather.

  The hard weeks of travel began taking a toll on both the mules and the children. Every morning Tillie was up before daylight. The going had been good and they made several miles each day. On several occasions at night, she had noticed a single campfire along their back trail. A month out of Buckley, the mules were lined out and pulling well when Tillie called down to Danny, “Danny, climb up here on this wagon seat and drive this team for me. You don’t have to walk all the way to the Promised Land wherever that might be.” The two rode in silence, listening to the trace chains jangling as the mules pulled the heavy wagon along a well-worn trail through the mountains. On every rise, Danny noticed his mother looking down their back trail.

  “Mom, we are being followed, aren’t we?” Danny asked.

  “Yes, I think we are in for some trouble. The one thing your daddy did for the both of us was to teach us how to shoot. I don’t plan on putting up with any shenanigans. Whoever is behind us didn’t follow us way out here just to say hello. He wants something and I don’t plan on being obliging. So, keep that rifle handy and stay ready,” Tillie stated. She pulled a pistol out of the front of her bib overalls and checked the load. Sliding it back, she grinned at Danny. “Well, that’s a good place to keep my pistol, don’t you think, son?”

  “I wouldn’t have known you had a pistol hid there. That’s a good place to hide a pistol for a woman,” Danny said.

  Midday, the wagon passed through a forest of white birch trees between two hills. Just as they rounded a bend in the trail, Danny pulled the wagon to a stop. Before them, a man sat on an old worn-out horse in the middle of the trail.

  “Hello thar, folks,” the man said, trying to make small talk.

  “You have been following us since we left Buckley. So, what’s on your mind, mister?” Tillie asked.

  “Wall, you shore get right to the point, don’t you, missy?” the stranger asked.

  “You haven’t answered my question,” Tillie said.

  “I see you folks need a man along. I decided I would just come along and make myself useful,” the man insisted.

  “I have a man along and don’t want or need your company. So, you best get along back the way you come and leave us alone,” Tillie stated firmly.

  “Now ma’am, that boy ain’t no whar near a man, and I are offering my services free of charge!” the man insisted.

  “Get out of my way and keep your distance from us. I don’t need your help,” Tillie said.

  The grimy man’s face took on a hard look, and he said, “You don’t understand, missy. I ain’t asking. I be a-tellin’ and from now on, you jest be a-doin' as I say.” A slight smile crossed his grimy face showing a single tooth in the front of his mouth.

  “Boy, you go ahead and toss me down that rifle and be really careful as you do,” the man said, as he pulled a pistol from his waistband. Suddenly a cloud of dust rose from his heavy buffalo coat followed by the sound of a pistol echoing across the mountains. The jolt shocked him, and he grunted before turning to look at the small woman sitting on the wagon seat, holding a smoking pistol.

  Tillie spoke firmly, “Drop that pistol, mister, or I will put a second shot in the same spot where I put the first.” Shocked and surprised, the man dropped his pistol and ran his hand inside his coat. Pulling a bloody hand back, a look of horror crossed his face.

  “Woman, you done gone and gutshot me!” he yelled.

  “You pulled a gun on us and I wasn’t waiting to see what you were going to do with it,” Tillie said.

  “I’m gonna’ bleed to death! I need a doctor!” he exclaimed.

  “I saw lights last night east of here. There might be a settlement. You better get started back that way before you bleed to death,” Tillie said.

  “I ain’t never going to make it that fer,” he said—a look of fear crossing his grimy face.

  “All you can do is try. You are wasting valuable time sitting here and talking,” Tillie said.

  The man started down the back trail at a lope, holding his side with one hand as he kicked the old horse with both heels. Danny climbed down from the wagon and picked up the pistol and checked the load. “Danny, we got a long way to go before dark. Get back up here and let’s go!” Tillie said.

  Without further discussion on the matter, she picked up the whip and slapped it across the rumps of the lead set of mules. The incident was not discussed except for one question by Danny over the campfire that night.

  “Mom, do you think he will make it?” Danny asked.

  “I would like to think so, Danny, but it was his own doing. I have to protect my own. Now let’s forget about him and concentrate on what will keep us safe and together. We must be vigilant and ready at all times,” she said.

  Tillie did not follow her own instruction. She was long in forgetting the man and not knowing what had happened to him grieved her greatly. Winter came slowly, giving her time to descend the mountain and turn southeast. The two took turns driving the six-mule team, and with good weather, the little family made good time.

  C5 A Time to Adapt

  The mules began to lose weight and needed rest and good grazing, but Tillie pushed on. Danny adjusted well and grew strong and tall in the cold mountain air. He walked with a sense of pride now. Tillie knew she had brought a man child into this world that she could count on. Along the way, Mary chattered and ran along, pulling at every plant that resembled a flower, gathering a bouquet of weeds every day for her mother.

  Tillie and Danny shared hard work. The bond between them grew stronger each day. Approximately every hour, they switched places behind the team while the other walked along with Mary as she investigated every rock and plant that was in her path. Always vigilant and conscious of their surroundings, the two went armed at all times.

  “Mom, I wish Mr. Sandy and Uncle Buck could see you handle these mules!” Danny called up to her as she worked the reins.

  “I got to admit these big mules were a fearsome sight when I first saw them,” she said.

  A north wind began to blow and the days started to get colder. The lines of worry on Tillie’s face grew more pronounced.

  “We’re in trouble, Danny. I have been looking for a town to winter in, but we’re just too far out. Don’t be alarmed, but if a winter storm hits, we will be snowbound without shelter. Keep your eyes open if you see a cabin or cave. We’ll stop and get prepared for a cold winter,” Tillie said.

  Snow clouds began to build, and the temperature dropped below freezing. On the second day of temperature below freezing, the wind picked up and Tillie became frantic. From the ground, Danny called up to his mother, “Mom, there may be a cabin over there. I think I saw a chimney through the trees.”

  Tillie didn’t answer. She just pulled hard on the right set of reins and headed the mules up a draw. A great burden was lifted from her shoulders as she saw a cabin standing against the side of a mountain. Beside the cabin stood a corral and a sturdy barn. “Son, open the barn door, and I will drive the team in,” Tillie said as she looked around for any sign of life.

  Inside the barn, the loft had hay stacked to the roof. While Danny got the harness off the mules and put them in stalls, Tillie forked hay into each manger from the loft. The two wiped the sweat from the mules with handfuls of hay, but before they had the mules b
edded down, the snow began to fall. Within minutes, they could not see the cabin for the blowing wind.

  The gate to the corral was broken and hanging on one hinge. On the way to the house, Tillie and the children propped it back in place, putting aside repairs to a later time. With good hay and water, the mules would stay put.

  The location of the cabin was well chosen. It was in a stand of trees that blocked the north wind. Blinded by the snow, Tillie held tight to her children’s hands as they made for the cabin door. It opened with ease, and they stepped into a cold but cozy cabin. Before dark, the wind intensified and the temperature dropped. Tillie listened to the howling wind and shivered from the fright of what could have been. Snowdrifts piled high around the cabin and against any stationary object.

  A storm like this had been Tillie’s worst nightmare and the cabin was heaven sent. Shaking from the days of worry, she knew God spared them. She cried and held her children close for she knew full well her good fortune was a benevolent God who continually watched over her little family. It didn’t take long until a fire was ablaze and smoke rolled from the chimney. The cabin itself was surrounded by firewood chopped and stacked against the walls to the height of the ceiling. Inside, stocked in the cabinets were canned goods.

  A pipe lay on the mantle, and everything in the cabin looked as if someone lived there. A big picture Bible lay on the table with the name John Morgan written in it. The presence of a man worried Tillie, and she half expected to see the heavy door burst open, and her little family ushered out in the cold. But, for three months, they would be cozy and happy in their winter wonderland reading stories from that Bible left in the cabin.

  Tillie had realized that one of the significant needs they would have would be books to keep their minds active and their imagination vivid. Having books along would also be the best way to entertain them through the confining winter months. Danny sat by the fireplace, reading from one of the cases of books she had wisely brought along.

  She finished kneading the bread and covered it with a towel to rise. Deep in thought for a moment, she considered: ‘Did her son truly realize the gravity of the situation they had been in before finding the cabin? Did he consider the source of their good fortune, or did he just consider their good fortune as happenstance?’