Authors: Gilbert Morris
“Owen Majors, he says.”
“Where’s he from? Do you know anything about him?”
For an instant Joelle hesitated and almost said, “He’s been in prison.” But she decided that would not have been fair to Owen. “He’s from Kentucky.”
“What’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Phillips. I think he’s looking for work.”
“Well, you can’t keep him forever.”
“I think he’ll be leaving pretty soon.”
“He’s just a bum, Joe. Don’t let people take advantage of you.” Phillips turned and left without another word.
Quickly she went back inside. Majors was still eating, and she sat down and began eating her dinner. “Maybe I can give you a hand with some of this work around here.”
“Oh, there’s not that much work to it, Owen. Just mostly feeding the horses and once in a while brushing them out.”
“Well, I can clean up.”
“Maybe in a day or two. You’re still not back to full strength.”
“Well, I don’t like to take your bed. Where have you been sleeping?”
“Oh, I made me a bed up in the loft. Since the cold broke it’s not bad.”
“Well, that’s all of that. You can show me when you finish eating.”
She ate and then remembered that Phillips had asked what he did. She had not asked too many questions of the tall man, but now she said, “What do you do for a living, Owen?”
“Whatever I can. I soldiered in the dragoons for a couple of years, trapped beaver in the mountains, drove a freight wagon.” He smiled and added, “I was even a deputy sheriff for a time.”
“You were a lawman?”
“Just a deputy.”
“Will you go back to that, do you think?”
“I don’t think there’s many towns that would hire a jailbird to be their deputy.”
“Wasn’t your fault, you said.”
“That’s what I said at the trial, but it didn’t do any good. Nobody believed me.”
“Do you have any folks?”
“No, not really. My folks died of cholera on the trail to Oregon, both of them. I was handed around until I got old enough to take care of myself.”
“What do you think you’ll do now?”
“Find a job somewhere. What about you?” he asked suddenly. “You don’t tell much about yourself. You got folks around here?”
“No, I’m like you. I lost my ma and pa.”
He suddenly leaned forward and studied her face, saying finally, “How old are you, Joe?”
“I’m seventeen.”
“You don’t look it. You’ve not even shaved yet, I don’t think. You got smooth features for a fella.”
“Yeah, my pa said he was that way too,” she said quickly, then tried to change the subject. “You could ask Mr. Phillips if there’s any jobs around here.”
“Maybe I’ll do that. I think I’ll take a walk around town.”
“Put your heavy coat on. It’s still chilly out.”
“I hate that buffalo coat. I think I’ll just put on both shirts.”
He slipped the second woolen shirt on, then picked up his hat, and said, “I’ve got to get another hat. This one makes me look like an idiot.”
He left the room, and as he stepped out into the bright sunshine, he thought,
That Joe Jones is a funny young fella. Doesn’t
look very tough for a place like this or for a job like this.
He began to walk down the streets of Fort Smith and wondered about Joelle’s question.
What am I going to do now?
he asked himself, then realized he had no idea whatsoever. He had always been a man of independence, and nothing had kept him down long although he had had some hard times. The pale sunshine felt good, and the air was sharp and crisp. He was thankful to be out of that cell and thankful that he hadn’t died.
* * *
THE WINTER MOVED SLOWLY away from the earth, and spring began to show signs of returning. It was early March.
Owen Majors stepped inside the stable and found Joelle currying her horse. “You sure take good care of that hoss, Joe.”
“I guess I do.”
“Well, I like to see a horse well treated. That’s a fine one too. Got good news.” Joelle watched as he pulled up a chair and sat down. “Got a job.”
“Really? That’s good. What will you be doing?”
“Not much. Just room clerk down at the hotel. Night shift. Not much going on. Doesn’t pay much, but I get a room for it.”
“Well, you’ll be moving out then.”
“I guess so.” He studied her and noted that she always wore the same clothes, the baggy pants and the shapeless shirt that seemed to swallow her.
I wonder why he doesn’t buy something
that fits him better. Maybe he’s broke. This job can’t pay much.
“I got just about enough to buy us a meal down at the café.”
“You better save your money.”
“Oh, I’m a man of means, Joe. I’ll soon be making money at that hotel. Come on. You cooked enough for me.” He saw Joelle’s eyes suddenly crinkle and he rose. The two sauntered down the street to the Café Delight. They got a table, and the waitress came over. She was a small, well-shaped woman with attractive brown eyes. “What can I get you gents?”
“What do you have, Joe?”
“What have you got?” Joelle asked and looked up at the waitress.
“We got some good steaks, hon.”
It made Joelle feel odd that the waitress called her “hon,” and she flushed a little.
“I’ll have a steak.”
“Same for me and any kind of vegetable you can rake up, sweetheart.”
“You bet.”
The waitress left, and Owen leaned forward. “I think she’s stuck on you, Joe. You made a conquest there.”
Joelle said, “She’s just foolin’. She probably calls everybody hon.”
“She didn’t call me that.” Owen smiled, and she saw that the color had come back into his face, and her cooking had filled in some of the sunken spots that had formed in his neck and cheeks. He had rebounded miraculously from his brush with near death.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “We’ll ask if she’s got a sister. If they do, we’ll take them out for a dance or something.”
“We don’t have any money for that kind of thing.”
“You’re right about that, but eat all you want. I’ll start out broke at my new job, but something will turn up. It always does.”
* * *
A WEEK AFTER OWEN left for his job, Joelle discovered she was lonesome. Taking care of the big man had filled a part of her life, and now, although he had come by twice, it wasn’t the same. She had cleaned the stables and curried and fed the horses. Now she stepped outside. The courthouse was right down the street so out of boredom she walked toward it. It was a crowded street for the weather had turned warm, and Fort Smith was a busy place. There was going to be a hanging the next day, and people always came to see the spectacle. Joelle had thought about going, but it disgusted her.
She got to the post office and turned to look at the posters. It was filled with wanted posters. Some had hand-drawn portraits of the wanted men, and some were simply printed in large block letters. Most of them were for felons and offered a reward.
She was about to turn when something caught her eye. She moved a poster that half-covered the one beneath and took a deep breath. There it was. Harper had raised the reward to a thousand dollars. Fear gripped her, and she looked around. Nobody was watching so she jerked the poster down, crammed it into her pocket, turned, and fled down the street. He’s after me! He’ll get me sooner or later.
* * *
JOELLE HAD GONE TO her room and sat there nervously, not knowing what to do. “I need to get out of this place. There’ll be another poster. I know there will,” she said aloud. She started when she heard somebody calling her, but she recognized Owen’s voice. She stepped outside. “Hello, Owen.”
“Hey, Joe. I got some news here.” He pushed into his pocket and pulled out a letter. “I got a letter from an old friend of mine. His name is Harry Jump.”
“That’s a funny name.”
“It is. Never knew anybody named Jump before. The letter went to the prison, and the warden knew I was coming here, so he had it sent.”
“You’ve known him a long time?”
“Yes, quite a while.” He opened it and said, “It says he’s going to California to look for gold. He says he’ll wait for me in Independence, and that maybe we could hook on to a wagon train.” Owen read part of the letter aloud: “‘You could probably get a job as a guide since you know the trail, Owen. We could maybe put together enough cash to buy a wagon. We could strike it rich out there. Ask for me at the post office when you get to Independence.’”
Owen laughed and shook his head. “Harry was always an optimistic sort of fellow. Just the kind of get-rich-quick scheme he’d jump at.”
“I’ve been reading about the gold discoveries in California. How do you get there?”
“Well, if you’re on the East Coast, you can get on a ship and go down to Panama, cross on land, then get on another ship. Or go around the Cape. Takes a long time to get there. Costs
a bundle. Or you can go to Independence and tie up with a wagon train. You’ve got to have a wagon to do that though.”
“You think you’ll go?” Joelle suddenly had an idea and hope began to kindle within her.
“I think I will. Not that I am expecting to find gold, but I’d like to see old Harry again. And there ought to be jobs there around San Francisco somewhere. I have to save a little money first.”
“I’d like to see California myself.”
“Pretty hard making that trip in a wagon.”
“You’ve done it?”
“Sure have, but I wasn’t in a wagon.”
Joelle only half-listened as Owen spoke of the trip on the Oregon Trail. “But why do they call it the Oregon Trail if it goes to California?”
“It goes both places. The trains leave Independence and get about two-thirds of the way there. Those that want to go to Oregon take the north route. Those that go to California break off and go through the Donner Pass.”
Preoccupied, Joelle asked several more questions. Owen left, and she began to walk back and forth within the stable. She began to put a plan together.
If I got to California, Harper
would never find me there!
The thought of such a thing frightened her, but then she stopped. I’ll bet Owen would look out for me. He’s done it before. The thought possessed her, and that night before she went to bed she found herself praying,
God, if this is all right with You, I sure would like to
get away from here. Make a way for us to get to California, me
and Owen.
JOELLE WAS FRYING LIVERS on the small stove, and the aroma was rich as it filled the small room. Majors sat at the table reading the paper. Joelle had invited him to eat with her, saying, “We can share the cost of the food. It’s too expensive to eat at those cafés.” He had agreed at once, and the meals had become times she looked forward to. When the livers were done, she put them on a plate along with beans. She had baked fresh bread, too, and she filled their glasses with milk and said, “Let’s eat.”
“All right. Sounds good.”
The two began to eat, and finally, when they had finished the meal, Joelle got up and said, “I made peach pie today.”
“You’re a fine cook, Joe. Where’d you learn to cook so good?”
“Oh, I just picked it up, I guess.” She cut two pieces of the pie, a large one for him and a small one for herself.
He took a bite. “That is prime.” He finished the pie, and the two sat there drinking coffee. Owen seemed restless. “I got something to tell you, Joe. I’m going to be leaving.”
The news caught Joelle off-guard. “Leaving? Where you going?”
“Well, look here.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a roll of bills. “Three hundred dollars there.”
“Where’d you get all that money? Not from being a hotel clerk!”
“No, I got lucky in a poker game. It’s about time, I guess. I’m going to buy a horse. Maybe Phillips will sell me that bay I like so much.”
“He probably would. I’d get you a good price for it. When will you be going?” She suddenly felt lost, as if she were going down steps and one of the steps was missing. It had been only a short time since Owen Majors had come into her life. She hadn’t realized until this moment how much she depended on him.
“Next week, I guess. You talk to Phillips about that horse for me.”
“What’s it like on a wagon train, Owen?”
“Dangerous, uncomfortable, and lots of hard work.”
“What’s dangerous about it?”
“The Indians for one thing. Plenty of them between here and California, and the worst kind—Kiowa and Sioux. But mostly it’s just uncomfortable. Long stretches with no water. Lose cattle that way. Of course, me and Harry won’t have a wagon. We’ll just tag along and maybe bring some game in to the train. They always have to have hunters.”
“Where will you sleep?”
“On the ground. I did it when I was in the dragoons. Not my favorite place, but that’s the only way I’m going to get there.”
“Well, I hate to see you go.”
He got up and moved his plate and cup to the table where she washed them in a dishpan, and when he came back, he reached down and grabbed her hair. He had never done that before. He pulled her head back and looked down in her face. “I guess I owe you a lot, Joe. You saved my bacon. I’d be decorating a grave somewhere if it wasn’t for you.”
Joelle was nearly paralyzed by his touch. “Let go of my hair. You’re pulling it.”
“You’re a finicky young fellow, but I meant it. I’ll write you when I get to California and tell you what it’s like. How about that?”
“All right. That’ll be good.”
* * *
ALL DAY LONG JOELLE thought about what was happening. She knew she wanted to go to California, and finally she said,
Well, Lord, I don’t know what to do, but I’m going to go. And
I’m asking You to help me and Owen get there. Don’t let us get
scalped.
She made a plan. From under her bed she retrieved the metal box with the jewelry and cash her mother had given her. She stuck the cash in her pocket, and taking the box she left the stable. She went at once to a jewelry store. A small man with thick glasses and silver hair said, “Yes. What can I do for you, sir?”
“I’ve got to sell some jewelry. It belonged to my mother. I need the money.”
“Let me see. My name is Abe Goldman.”
“I’m Joe Jones.”
Goldman looked at the jewelry very carefully. He had an eyepiece that he seemed to screw into his right eye and stared at it. “Have you had these appraised?”
“No, I never have. They came from my grandmother.”
“I’ll make you a price, but you ought to get another offer or maybe two.”
“Is there anybody else here?”
“There’s a man down the street by the blacksmith.” Goldman sniffed. “You might ask him.”
“You don’t sound like you got much confidence in him.”
“He calls himself a jeweler,” Goldman shrugged. “Let me figure.” He took out a piece of paper and stopping to look, he wrote calculations. “I can let you have five hundred. You might get more in a big city.”
“You think the other man would offer more?”
“Half as much, but you go see, young fellow.”
“All right.” Joelle left the store. She found the other jeweler who offered her three hundred. He was a fat, greasy-looking man, and Joelle didn’t like him. She returned to Goldman’s store and said, “You were right, but there’s one thing. I want to keep this ruby ring.”
“In that case it’ll be four hundred.”
“Can you give me the money now?”
“Of course.” He handed her the ring, moved to the back of the store, and came out holding some bank notes. “You shouldn’t carry this much money around, young fellow.”
“I’ll put it in a safe place.”
She took the money, thanked Goldman, and left. She had a sense of loss for she would have liked to have kept the jew
elry, but at least she had the ruby ring. She had never seen her mother wear it, and it gave her some satisfaction to know that it had belonged to her grandmother.
* * *
JOELLE STOPPED BY THE hotel, but Owen was off duty. She went back to the stable and paced impatiently until finally he came in for supper that night. She had bought some ribs and cooked them, and while he was eating, she said, “When are you leaving, Owen?”
“Day after tomorrow, I think.”
Joelle took a deep breath. “Let me go with you.”
She saw the surprise wash across Owen’s face. “You mean to Independence?”
“No, all the way to California. Look, I’ve got some money. It’s four hundred dollars. Maybe we could get a wagon and join the train there.”
“Well, sure, Joe. It’ll be rough though.”
“I don’t care. I just want to go.”
“Well, that makes life a little bit easier. Tell you what. Let me shop around here and see if I can find a wagon and some stock. If not, we can pick them up in Independence.” He talked with excitement, his eyes flashing, and finally when she got up, he rose, put his arm around her, and gave her a hug. “I didn’t know you were an heir,” he grinned.
Joelle was paralyzed. He was hugging her, and she was terrified. She could disguise her femininity with clothes but not when someone was holding her close. She pulled away and said, “I wish you wouldn’t hug me like that.”
Owen laughed. “You’re finicky, Joe. You got four hundred, and I’ve got three so we’ll see what’s to be had.”
“When can we leave?”
“Well, most of the trains leave the first of April, just about now. If we find stock and a wagon, we can get to Independence maybe in less than four or five days. Then we hook on to one of the trains.”
“Will they take us?”
“Oh, they always want to have as many wagons as possible. Keeps the Indians scared off.”
“I’d like to get out of this place. I don’t like it.”
“Well, you may not like California either. What’ll you do then? Can’t go any farther. The ocean’s there.”
“I know, but I can’t stay here.”
“You know, that’s about the way I feel, Joe. I’m going to start looking out. Phillips knows stock pretty well. He may know of some good buys in oxen.”
“You don’t want horses?”
“No, nor mules neither. Oxen are the best on the trail, but the wagon is what we really need.”
* * *
JOELLE COULDN’T SLEEP THAT night, and the next day she was waiting when Owen came for breakfast. She fixed ham and eggs, and then he said, “I talked to Phillips. He knows a fellow that’s got some stock to sell. Good oxen. Get them cheap, too, and the best news is that Phillips put me on to a good buy in a wagon. I picked it up for a hundred. A real bargain.”
“Good! When can we leave?”
“We’ll be ready in the morning.”
“I hate to leave Mr. Phillips, but he can get somebody.” She smiled and exclaimed, “It’s going to be fun, Owen!”
“Hope you think so when we’re halfway there,” he grinned. “Know what? I think I’ve got me a pretty good partner, Joe Jones!”
* * *
THE STARS WERE BRIGHT overhead, and Owen had hobbled all the oxen they had bought. He had bought eight head, which would be enough, he said.
“You mean to pull one wagon you need eight oxen?”
“Four is usually enough, but you have to give them a rest. When an ox gets tired, he just lies down and won’t go anywhere, so we’ll have two teams.”
They had left Fort Smith and traveled steadily all day until they camped for the night. Owen had bought the bay that he liked for fifty dollars, and she had ridden Blackie. Joelle had been surprised at how the oxen were guided. One of them walked alongside the lead beast. Owen had told her, “Lots of folks ride the lead oxen, but I just as soon walk.” They had traveled hard for three days, and now he said, “We ought to be in Independence tomorrow.”
The days of travel had not tired her, but Owen, like all men, had rough manners on the trail. They had built a fire and cooked a simple meal, and Joelle said, “I can’t sleep. I’m too excited.”
“Good thing to be excited.”
She rolled over and stared at him. “You never say anything about your past. What about your family?”
“Well, my pa and ma died of cholera on the way to Oregon, like I told you, when I was only five. I had two older brothers and two younger sisters. I took off on my own when I was sixteen.”
“Did you ever see them again?”
“Never did.”
He said no more, and finally she asked, “So you made out all right?”
“Sure, I made it fine. We’re going to be all right. We’re going to go to California. We may not find any gold, but we’ll see the ocean.”
They were quiet for a long time, and she was shocked at how his story had touched her. Finally he said, “You OK?”
“Yep.”
“Good-looking young fellow like you is gonna have a good time. Girls like young fellows like you. Why, that waitress in Fort Smith was in love with you.”
“She was just silly, and she went for everything in pants.”
“She liked you though. She couldn’t keep her hands off of you. Always called you ‘honey’ or ‘sweetheart’ or something. And you never gave her a tumble.”
“Didn’t like her.”
“Well, there’ll be some more.”
“What about you? Have you ever been married or anything?”
He suddenly laughed. “Never been married. I guess anything suits my love life. That just about says it.”
“You sound like you don’t like women.”
“Well, I had one give me a pretty hard bump. I guess I’m careful. Hard for me to trust any woman now.” He suddenly laughed. “You and me, Joe, we’ll be crusty old bachelors. OK?”
“OK, Owen. That’s what we’ll be.”