Jodi's Journey (12 page)

Hunt had to laugh too, but before he could
hire him, another gentleman came between them. “You better take
him, cowboy, cause we don't want his kind here,” the man said in no
uncertain terms, his eyes never leaving him.

The black cowboy stood very still, as though
he knew trouble when he saw it. The other cowboy was half drunk and
looking for trouble. Hunt glanced at the black man, realizing it
wasn't some personal grudge. It was his color.

Dang fool. The war was over and people still
didn't get it. How long would it take for the world to understand
what that war had supposedly been about?

“You're hired. What's your name?” Hunt looked
around the other cowboy.

“Willy…Willy Moss,” the black man said,
moving away from the other man and starting for the door. He wasn't
running, just ambling as though he didn't want to start anything
just now. Hunt liked that about him. He was a man not looking for
trouble, and better yet, he had a sense of humor, which would be
appreciated on the trail.

Hunt liked Willy Moss on the spot. He was to
the point.

Hunt followed, and then paused at the door.
“Maybe it's your loss and my gain.”

Laughter followed them out the door. “We'll
catch up to them later…” came the brag. Hunt hadn't missed a word
of that.

Hunt motioned for Willy to follow him. As
they crossed the street, Jodi was coming toward him. “You got us a
man?”

“Yep, meet Willy Moss.” Hunt smiled as he
picked her up in his arms. Immediate tension crackled between them.
“Willy, this is my wife.”

“Pleased to meet ya.” Willy smiled a big
toothed grin.

“Only one man?” she asked as he set her on
her horse, smoothed her dress, and shot her a hot glance before
turning his attention back to Willy and the horses.

“Only one. Sometimes, one’s all you need,” he
replied, then glanced at Willy and nodded. “Grab your horse and
come on with us.”

Willy nodded and, in seconds, he had a roan
saddled and ready.

They rode quietly out of town.

Before long, they were back on the trail.
Hunt wasn't sure why he decided not to stay in town, but judging
from the man at the bar, things weren't too friendly, and he didn't
want any trouble, especially not tonight. He had to admit, getting
married had some strange affect on him. Either that, or that kiss
had floored him more than he realized.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd
kissed a girl, but he knew he wouldn't forget kissing Jodi.

All the way back, they didn't speak of the
ceremony. The tension was like tender in a herd just before the
strike of lightning, strong and dangerous. He reckoned they both
had plenty on their minds and it was best kept private for the time
being. On the one hand, he refused to believe he had a wife. On the
other, he knew he had a newfound responsibility, and his protective
nature sprang forward.

A soft rain came down as they rode into camp.
Everyone was bedded down, and Jodi wasted no time in climbing into
the chuck wagon, but the dress was so long and trailed, Hunt had to
help her in. When he attempted to follow her, she pushed him
away.

“This is as far as it goes, cowboy.”

“No ma'am, this is,” Hunt rasped as he pulled
her into his arms again and kissed her hard.

This kiss was different, as though he was
branding her, and all she could do was clutch at his sleeves. The
moonlight silhouetted them, and he was sure that any cowpunchers
curious enough to stay awake at this hour would get an eyeful. But
the purpose of the kiss lost its meaning as his lips touched hers
again. He liked kissing Jodi and he wanted to go on doing it.

But he gently shoved her away. Yet, instead
of leaving, he invited himself into the wagon with her.

“What do you think you're doing?” she gasped
with indignation.

“Letting the men know who you belong to, in
no uncertain terms. But don't worry,” he grunted, finding himself a
small corner to scoot into. “I'll not be taking your virtue.” He
breathed a long sigh.

Again her cheeks flamed, and he found himself
staring at her through the dim light. She was such a beautiful
contrast of mixed emotions tonight. He wanted to comfort her and
tell her it would all work out, but he knew she wasn't ready to
hear that.

Strangers were what they were. Married is
what they were, too!

She asked him to leave so she could change
out of the dress, and he did. He went to talk to Willy.

“How long you two been married?” Willy asked
after talking about the drive for a while.

“Tonight,” Hunt laughed.

“Oh…so now I see. Well sir, looks like you
got you one good woman there.” He smiled again. “She shore does
know how to ride.”

“Thanks. You got a woman, Willy?”

“Had one…she took a bullet and died.” Willy
shook his head sadly. “Over two year ago. Since then, I have been
alone.”

“Sorry, Willy, sometimes it's tough. What
happened, if you don't mind me asking?”

Willy seemed to consider Hunt for a minute
before replying. “Some towns don't cotton to Negroes. I guess you
done seen that tonight in the saloon. Especially down this way and
further south. I reckon the war's not totally over yet. Maybe it's
just too soon for everyone to accept. Anyway, they got this bunch
of people that put these white hoods on and they run around the
countryside looking for people like me. And they usually find them.
Well sir, they found me and my missus one night. They were fixin'
to hang me, and she run out and got in front of me. Someone pulled
a gun and shot her dead, right there in front of me. All I could do
was fall on my knees and cry. I heard them laugh, as though killing
her was nothing, like killin' a fly or something. But, I loved my
wife, Mr. Hunt.” After a long minute of silence he added, “I guess
they saw how hurt I was and decided I'd spend the rest of my life
mourning for her and that was punishment enough. They whipped me
till I couldn't even stand on my knees and then they left me to my
grief.”

Hunt acknowledged the sadness in Willy's
eyes. He shook his head, and his hand went to Willy's shoulder. His
eyes stared deep into his. “I'm sorry, Willy. Truly, but you won't
be having that problem here. I can assure you of that. A man is a
man to me.” With that, Hunt walked back toward the wagon. He turned
and called over his shoulder, “Goodnight, Willy.”

“G’night, Mr. Hunt.” Willy nodded and got his
bedroll off his horse.

Jodi jumped a little when Hunt first came
through the curtain.

“Easy girl…”

She blew out the light and fastened her
blanket around her securely, as if that might keep him out if he
wanted to have her. He wasn't in love with her, but he did feel a
strange sense of responsibility toward her. She was Mrs. Hunter
Johnson now, and she'd be treated with respect, no matter what.

Hunt reflected on what Willy had said. He
reminded him of Jacob. The sadness in Willy's eyes wouldn't go
away. He thought about it for a long time as he stared through the
darkness at Jodi. He suddenly wondered if he could feel that kind
of love for her.

The rain continued all night, lulling them
both through a restless night.

Before dawn, Jodi was up and about. She'd
made coffee and breakfast and called the hands in. Everyone seemed
to notice the exaggerated slowness of Hunt leaving the wagon. When
the men continued to stare, he announced it, making it
official.

“We got hitched last night,” Hunt said as
Matt smiled at him. The men seemed genuinely happy about it as Jodi
blushed.

There was a multitude of reactions, but no
one voiced any argument and Hunt took that as an acceptance.

“Oh…and this is a new drover, Willy Moss.
Introduce yourselves and get acquainted,” Hunt demanded.

The boys all shook Willy's hand and everyone
seemed to accept him easily. Funny thing about trail drives, one
drover usually respected the other unless there was a real cause
not to.

Now the drive wouldn't be so bad, he thought
as he helped himself to breakfast and sat away from everyone else.
No one noticed but Jodi. It might seem he was ignoring her, but he
had a lot on his mind.

He glanced at her and their eyes locked on
each other, almost hungrily, as though they both needed that to
keep going. It'd be a long, hard drive for him.

Jodi finally joined him.

≈≈≈

“You look a little worried, Señor Boss.
Think there's trouble coming?” Concho asked as he was saddling up
to leave.

“Could be. Be ready. Every man carry his
pistol cocked and ready. Our cattle held interest for some
jayhawkers in the saloon last night, a lot of interest. No one said
anything, mind you, but as I was talking to Willy, I saw a few of
them staring and listening to our conversation.”

“Jayhawkers? I figured you'd worry about the
Indians?” Josh chuckled.

Hunt scratched the ground with his boot, and
then looked up at Concho and Jodi.

“Well, I'll tell you”—he looked at them
closely—”Indians can be a problem if you make them a problem. We
won't. All they'll be wanting is horses and maybe a cow or two to
eat. One of the first things a trail boss learns is when to give in
and when to get the heck out, and when to fight to the end. We'll
trade best we can, invite them to supper. Be friendly, show no fear
of them. They are like dogs in that respect. They smell fear, and
once they think they have it, they have the upper hand. We can't
let them have that. It's the white men you got to worry about,
though. If those jayhawkers come after our cattle, we got to be
ready. If the cattle stampede, we ride and ride hard, turn them in,
circle them. Close them up tight. Look for strays later. The bulk
of the herd will stay together.”

The drovers all nodded and sighed heavily,
knowing they might have a long night ahead of them. Even though
stampedes were a normal part of herding cattle, it never came easy.
They knew exactly what to expect. It was long, hard work keeping
the cattle from scattering, and then there was the rounding up of
strays. It was a job and they knew how to handle it.

“Those men in the saloon, did you know any of
them, Willy?” Hunt asked as he was about to mount up.

“Yes, sir, you got them right. They used to
be soldiers. Now they are just out for what they can get, easy
like. No goods, if you ask me. Stirrin' up trouble everywhere they
go. They especially don't like Negro men.”

“Is that a fact?” Hunt looked at Willy with
new interest. “Were they Union or Confederate soldiers, Willy?”

“I don't rightly know, sir, they left with
the Confederates, but they comes home and joins the Union Army,
right off. The government has been closin' those forts since way
before the war. Well sir, when they did, they lost a lot of men. A
lot of men were angry; they had families butchered by the Indians.
It's a long story and nothin' good comes of the tellin'.” Willy
shrugged.

“But what have they got against Negroes? I
mean, I ran into a whole troop of Negroes during the war who fought
for the north,” Hunt explained, trying to figure it all out.

“Don't know, but they got themselves a whole
new army now.”

“What are you talking about, Willy?” Jodi
frowned and came closer to listen.

“I don't rightly know what they call
themselves, but they wear these white, pointed hoods and they come
in the night, killin' my people, for no good reason,” Willy said
with tears in his eyes. “They say it's to keep us from votin',
sittin' on juries, and testifyin' against the white man. And to
keep us from some kinds of jobs. But I don't know many of my people
that would vote anyway. Don't know a white judge who would put a
Negro on a jury either. As for jobs, well, most of us can't read or
write…so what kind of fancy job we gonna get?”

“Well, that won't happen here, Willy. I can
promise you. And if it did, every man here would back you up.
Because here, you're just a drover like the rest of us, understand?
This is one place that color don't matter. If you were an Indian,
I'd say the same.”

“Yes suh!” Willy smiled suddenly, flashing a
full set of the whitest teeth Hunter had ever seen.

Hunt nodded. “We'll keep an eye out for them.
Any questions?”

“Want me on drag?” Willy asked.

“Actually, no, I want you to cut the remuda
and herd them, Willy. You seem pretty good with horses.” Hunt
smiled. “Horses tend to move faster than cows, and the cows get
more restless with them mixed in.”

“I'm not bad, now you mention it.” Willy
chuckled. “No sir, not bad at all.”

“Then let's roll.”

Jodi opened her mouth to protest. “But…who'll
be on lead?”

“Concho for a while. You and Matt go on up
ahead, find us a bedding ground. Afterwards, I want you in the
wagon with Jodi, Matt.” He knew she wanted her point, but he felt
she would be safer in the chuck wagon. After all, how many men
would try to hold up a chuck wagon?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“You think there's going to be trouble?” Jodi
asked him as most of the hands saddled up and readied themselves.
She had begun to notice how he tensed at certain times. No one else
seemed to notice, but she had watched him closely. Not much got by
Hunt Johnson.

“Could be, never hurts to be prepared. That
goes for you, too. Keep a gun handy. That is, if you have one. If
you don't, I'll let you have my rifle.”

“I have one, and I can use it, too,” Jodi
assured him.

“Good. Stay within eyesight; don't get too
far up ahead. Use your signals today, less talk. Keep the cattle
lulled as much as possible. And be ready.” He gestured for the gun.
“If they stampede the herd, we'll be prepared. If we get wind of
Indians, we'll prepare. Indians will want the horses. That's why I
put Willy on the remuda. He handled that roan really well last
night, and it might give the cows a rest, as those cowponies seem
to push them harder. They need to graze as we go so we have some
fat cows. We'll need to keep an eye on Willy, make sure those
jayhawkers aren't after him. He'll be safer with the remuda since
I'm putting him up front with me.”