Authors: Gilbert Morris
Landon smiled and put out his hand. “Glad to know you, Majors. Glad you stood up for the Picketts there.”
“They won’t be any trouble.”
Cherry said, “I remember you talking about Mace Benton. You had some trouble with him when you were in the mountains, didn’t you?”
“A little bit.”
“He better watch his manners, or Owen will stop his clock,” she said to Ash.
“Is that right?”
“Are you going to Oregon to farm?” Owen asked Ash. “You don’t look much like a farmer.”
“Nope, going to California. Just letting the breeze blow me.”
Owen had spotted Ash Landon’s trade. He was obviously a gambler, and even though a wagon train promised rough circumstances, he was still carefully dressed.
Cherry Valance laughed and took Owen’s arm possessively. “You going to find that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?”
“I never did believe that story. I expect I’ll break my back digging dirt and come up with nothing but gravel.”
Ash Landon laughed. “Well, I’ll find my pot of gold at the faro table.” He stopped and said, “You think Benton can get us there?”
Owen shrugged. “He knows the way.”
* * *
JOELLE WOKE UP, STARTLED by the sound of a gunshot. Frightened, she sat straight up and hurriedly pulled her clothes on. She tumbled out of the wagon and found Owen folding his blankets. “What was that shot?” she said.
“It means it’s time to get up and get ready to roll. They’ll start every day off like that.”
“Will I have time to cook breakfast?”
“You bet. We need a good one too. It’ll be a hard day until we get this train prepared and ready to roll.”
Harry Jump crawled from his bed, scratching and yawning hugely. “I’ll fix you a fire, Joe.”
Twenty minutes later the three were eating the fried ham and eggs Joelle had put together. “I’ll make some biscuits if we ever stop early enough,” she said.
“That’ll go down good,” Owen said. He stretched, and they began to clean to their plates. Joelle packed everything while Owen and Jump hitched the oxen. “Guess maybe we’ll just take it easy today. You want to ride in the wagon, Joe?”
“All right.” Joelle climbed up in the wagon, and thirty minutes later the wagons went into motion. All morning long she sat there until finally at noon the train paused.
“How far did we come?” she asked.
Harry Jump had been walking beside the oxen. Now he grinned at her. “About seven or eight miles. Not a bad morning’s walk. I’ll bet that wagon seat has about pounded your bottom to pieces, hasn’t it?”
He reached over and slapped Joelle’s bottom and laughed when she jumped. “Ow! You stop that!”
Jump laughed again. “Why don’t you get that black horse of yours saddled? It’ll rest you a might.”
“All right. I won’t have time to cook anything much, but we can eat some sandwiches.”
Owen returned from riding with the men who were taking care of a large herd of beef cattle and milk cows. He stepped out of the saddle, saying, “Well, we better have a good meal here.”
“There’s a creek over there. See that line of trees?” Jump said. “I’ll go get us some fresh water.”
“I’ll fix the sandwiches,” Joelle said. “Have it ready by the time you get back.”
Jump moved quickly across the open field and came to the trees. He stopped abruptly, for there fetching water was Lily Frazier. She turned to face him and stood there, obviously on her guard. Jump dropped one of the buckets, reached up, and jerked his hat off.
“Howdy, Miss Lily.” The woman didn’t answer, and Jump chewed his lower lip and said nervously, “I didn’t mean nothing by what happened in that store. I always give candy to the kids when I can.”
Lily spoke up then, and her voice was somewhat louder than he expected. He realized she had no idea how loud she
was speaking or how softly. “I’m careful about Rachel,” she said. Rachel had come up beside Lily. She reached up and took her mother’s hand.
Jump smiled at her. “That’s a fine-looking girl you got there.”
“Thank you.”
“I still got some of that candy left. You reckon she can have a bit?”
“I—suppose so.”
Jump reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled sack. “Almost melted,” he said. “It’s been a hot day. Here, Rachel. You take one; I’ll take one.” He opened the sack and held it out. The girl watched him warily and then came forward.
“Thank you,” she said, taking a piece.
“You’re right welcome, and it’ll make you sweet like me.” He grinned and then turned to see Lily staring at him. “You like candy, ma’am?”
“No, thank you.”
“Well, I’m sorry I offended you. You got a good, fine girl there.” She didn’t answer, and he took the buckets and filled them. “Can I carry one of those back?”
“No, thank you.”
Jump got back to the wagon, and Joelle saw that he looked troubled. “What’s wrong?”
“That Lily Frazier was there with her girl. She’s still mad at me.”
“I feel sorry for her. It must be awful to live in a world like that. Can’t hear the birds singing or the voice of a friend.”
Jump looked at the woman and the child now crossing the open spaces and heading toward the Ogden wagon. “Yes, she’s had a rough time, I guess. May never get over it.”
Joelle knew Jump was concerned, and she liked him better for it. He had a good heart, and she said quickly, “She’ll find a man.”
“With that handicap it might be hard.”
“If a man loved her, he wouldn’t care.”
Jump looked at Joelle, and his face was more sober than she had ever seen it. Finally he said, “I had a sister who was handicapped. One leg was withered and she had to use a crutch. She was so pretty, but she never married.” He turned and walked away, picked up a sandwich, and bit into it.
Joelle glanced at Owen who was watching. They didn’t speak of this for the rest of the day, but she sensed that a feeling passed between them.
JOELLE PLODDED BESIDE THE oxen, her hand resting, from time to time, on the rough coat of Big Daisy, her favorite. The week on the trail had given her complexion a light golden tan and brought out scattered freckles across the bridge of her nose. From time to time she glanced across the wagons spread out on each side of her. She had always had the idea that wagon trains would go single file, but at Owen’s suggestion the wagons made a long line, side to side.
“No sense anybody eating dust if they don’t have to. It may come to that,” he had said to Ralph Ogden. “There’ll be some places where we’ll have to go in a line. In this kind of country it might be better to spread out.”
As Joelle strolled along, weariness caught up with her. It was her time of the month, and she was in considerable discomfort but couldn’t show it, of course.
It had taken an entire week to get the train in order, for none of them except the guide, Mace Benton, and Owen had ever been over this territory before.
A sound of laughter caught her ears, and to her right she saw youngsters running through the fields, plucking
wildflowers, shouting, and playing. The sight pleased her. She had grown quite close to some of these children. She glanced up and saw that Owen, who had been hunting most of the day, had returned with game tied across the back of his saddle. He was talking to Cherry Valance. Even at this distance Joelle could see that the woman’s face was bright, and she was laughing at something Owen had said.
Looks like he’d have better sense than to fool around with
a saloon woman.
The thought came without volition, and she tried to shake it off.
It’s none of my business what Owen
Majors does. If he wants to make a fool of himself over a woman
like that, let him do it.
The thought displeased her, however, and she forged along and was glad, an hour later, when Ogden signaled a stop. The big man had been almost helpless at first, but he had learned quickly, and now the wagons were drawn in a circle. She took her place, and as soon as the circle was completed, Harry Jump appeared to take the yokes off.
“I tossed some dry wood in the back of the wagon, Joe,” he said. “I’ll build us a fire. I’ll cook supper, too, if you want.”
“No, I’ll do it, Harry.” She straightened up and arched her aching back. After Harry built a small fire, she began pulling together the elements for a meal. The late-afternoon air was filled with the cries of children playing, oxen lowing from time to time, and the voices of the travelers. She had not yet started the supper when Owen pulled up. He had an antelope slung across the back of his horse, and as he swung to the ground, he grinned.
“Fresh meat,” he said. “Antelope is about the worst meat there is, but it was all I was able to get.”
“Well, it’s better than shoe leather but not much,” Jump grinned. “Here, let me dress that thing, Owen.”
“I sure will. I hate to dress antelope. They’re a pain.” He unsaddled his horse.
In a short time, Jump, who was good at dressing wild game, came to Joelle. “How about these steaks? They’re kind of lean, but they’re fresh. I like mine rare.”
Joelle smiled at him, took the steaks, and threw them into the spider that she had placed over the flame. They began to smoke at once, and she shifted them with a fork. She had drawn up a box to use for a seat in front of the fire.
“There’s a creek over there,” Harry said. “See that line of willows? We need some fresh water.”
“I’ll get it, Harry. You watch the steaks.”
Quickly she grabbed a bucket and headed for the creek. She found the creek was small, no more than eight or nine feet across, but the water seemed to be clear. She removed her hat and knelt down to wash her face.
I’d like to plunge into this
and wash all over,
she thought.
But I don’t guess that would do
unless I came back after dark
. The lack of bathing was troublesome for she always cherished a warm, hot bath. Now that they had been on the trail for a week, she felt dirty, gritty, and grimy. She reached down to scoop up a bucket of water, but then suddenly she was aware of a man who had appeared with two buckets.
“Hey there. That water any good?”
“It looks good, and it tastes all right,” Joelle said.
“I’m Davis Hall. I reckon you’re with Majors.”
“That’s right. It’s a good thing we got him along. I believe he’s a better guide than the one we’ve got.”
Davis was a tall man with tawny hair and blue eyes. He was roughly handsome and stood there for a moment, then leaned over and took a drink. “Long way to go. What you say your name was?”
“Joe Jones.”
“Well, Joe, you ever been to California?”
“Never have.”
“Me either. My wife and I are having a fight about it. I want to go to the gold fields, and she wants to keep on farming. She wins most of the arguments so I’ll probably grub around in the dirt.”
The two of them talked for a few moments, and then one of the dance hall girls appeared with a bucket. “Hello, Bonnie.”
“Hello, Davis.” The woman was more than average height and full-figured. There was a bold look about her, and she smiled professionally, it seemed to Joelle.
“I brought some clothes down. Everything I’ve got is filthy.”
“Well, Bonnie, let me give you a hand with that.”
“Men aren’t supposed to wash clothes.”
“Why, for a pretty woman I’ll do just about anything.”
Joelle was surprised. She knew Davis Hall had mentioned his wife, and here he was flirting with a saloon woman. She turned to go when another woman arrived. Joelle had seen her before and knew that her name was Aiden.
The woman took in the man kneeling down beside Bonnie Martin and said in a chilling tone, “Well, you don’t change, do you, Davis?”
Instantly Hall got up, his face flushed. “Aiden, I was just—”
“I know what you were ‘just’!” The woman walked over to the creek, filled her bucket with water, and turned around without another word.
Hall hurried after her, and as soon as they were out of hearing, Bonnie turned and winked at Joelle. “It looks like I broke up a happy home. When you get a wife, Joe, be sure you don’t get caught cheating. I guess I’m lucky. Some women would have shot me.” She looked at Joelle carefully. “How old are you, Joe?”
“Seventeen.”
“I bet you’ve got a sweetheart somewhere back East.”
Joelle didn’t know how to answer. “Not really,” she said. “Well, I’d better get back.”
“You’re not afraid of women, are you?” Bonnie Martin called and then laughed as Joelle fled from the creek.
* * *
WHEN AIDEN HALL RETURNED from the creek, she found her son Benny waiting for her. “I could have gone and gotten that water, Mom.”
“You do more than your share, Benny. Oh, you got the fire all laid.”
“Let me light it, Ma.”
The twelve-year-old took the matches from Aiden, and she watched him as he knelt carefully. He was a handsome boy with his mother’s blond hair and gray eyes. He was thin but healthy. He looked up and smiled. “What do we have for supper, Mom?”
“I guess it’ll have to be bacon and beans.”
“I’ve been soaking the beans all day in that pot like you said.”
“It’ll take awhile for them to boil, but we’ll have a good supper. You take good care of your old mother, Benny.”
“You ain’t old,” Benny said.
“Well, I appreciate that kind remark.”
“This is fun, ain’t it, Ma? It’s a lot better than being stuck back in Missouri.”
“Fun so far, but we’ve got a long way to go. It’s going to be thirsty at times.”
“You reckon we’ll get attacked by Indians?”
“I hope not.”
The two busied themselves; Benny set the beans on a tripod over the fire and put a skillet alongside it for the bacon. Aiden sat back and watched him. She had seen other boys his age who were wild, but Benny had a mild and good spirit about him. She turned suddenly to see Davis coming back. He had a hangdog look, which saddened her. She had had high expectations of marriage, and they were mostly gone. There had been a brief period when she had been wildly in love with Davis, but he was a weak man. She had learned that from the start, and now there was grief in her heart as she looked at him.
Davis could not meet her eyes. He stood over her and said, “It was nothing, Aiden.”
“It never is with you.”
Aiden found herself saying things she didn’t really mean. “Why don’t you go back to the creek? I’m sure your lady friend is still there.”
“I was just passing the time of day.”
“I know what you were just doing, Davis, and the only reason I came on this trip was because you begged me. You promised me you would change.” She kept her voice low so that Benny would not hear.
“I will.”
“No, you won’t, Davis.” Davis reached out and touched her as she drew away. “Stay away from me. Go to your cheap women.”
Davis watched as she got up and walked away. His shoulders slumped, and he had a worried, defeated look on his face. He knew she was right. He couldn’t keep his hands off women, and he couldn’t understand why. Aiden was a good wife, fine-looking and strong—stronger than he was, he knew that. Finally he walked over and squatted down beside Benny, saying, “Those beans look good, Son.”
“How long will they have to cook do you think?” Benny looked up, and there was trust in his eyes. Davis felt a pang because he knew, for whatever reasons, the boy loved him and even admired him—Aiden had not been able to keep the whole truth from their son. He ruffled Benny’s hair. “We’ll just sit here and watch them until they soften up.”
* * *
“WELL NOW, OWEN, THAT’S mighty handy.”
“Antelope is about the worst kind of meat there is, Delbert, but at least it’s fresh.”
Owen stepped out of the saddle and handed the quarter of antelope to Pickett. The small man had faded blue eyes and the air of failure. Owen had seen it many times, not always in
small men. Sometimes in big powerful men who had missed their way somewhere. The aura of failure to him seemed to have almost a smell to it, and now he felt a touch of grief for the Pickett family. He turned to Ada who was a few years younger than her husband but had that same air.
She said, “Thank you, Owen. This will cook down pretty good.”
“How are those babies doing, Ada?”
“They’re doing fine. I ain’t got enough milk for two. Never planned on that.” She gestured over to a box where the two six-month-olds, Johnny and Esther, were kicking their feet and waving their arms.
Owen went over and bent down. “Look at you,” he said. “You’ve got a whole lifetime in front of you.”
“Do you like babies, Mr. Majors?”
Owen turned to see Jennie Pickett. She was a well-formed girl with a wealth of yellow hair and bright blue eyes. She had already begun to blossom out. “Well, I was one myself, Jennie, so I guess I have to like the breed, don’t I?”
“They sure are hard to take care of.”
“Maybe you can get Burke Townsend to help you. I notice he’s usually handy.”
Jennie stared at him, and her face turned rosy. “He wouldn’t like babies.”
“He likes you though, Jennie.”
Jennie Pickett was a shy girl. “No, he doesn’t like me. Anyway, I don’t like him.”
“Why not?” Owen said peering down at the girl with interest in his expression. “Pretty good-looking young fella.”
“He’s not nice like—”
“Like Danny Taylor?”
“Don’t you tease me, Mr. Majors.”
“You can call me Owen. I like it when young women call me by my first name. It makes me feel young again. An old codger like me, we need all the help we can get.”
“You ain’t old!”
“Well, I feel that way sometimes.”
Owen reached out with both hands and offered each twin a finger to pull. One of them took it and hung on, and the other stared up at him, then began to cry. “Well, one of them likes me and one of them don’t,” he said. He laughed, pulled his finger back, and said, “You folks enjoy the meal. It won’t be long until we’ll be in buffalo country. Then we’ll get something really good to eat.”
“I expected to see a big herd of buffalo,” Delbert Pickett said. “Read stories about them.”
“They don’t stay on the trails much. We’ll see some big herds as we go.” Owen swung to his saddle. “You folks eat hearty.”
He went over then to the wagon where Cherry Valance was cooking something over a fire. “Brought some fresh meat,” he said.
“What is it?” Cherry said.
“Antelope.” Owen got down and pulled out some steaks. “Got enough for all your girls.”
All of the dance hall girls gathered around, and one of them named Dora pulled at Owen’s sleeve. “What’s a good-looking man like you doing without a wife?”
“Nobody will have me, Dora,” Owen said lazily, shaking his head with mock sadness. “I’m just a forlorn old bachelor and doomed to be.”
“Not likely,” Dora said. Her eyes were bright, and she had a lively look. “You and me will have to talk about that. We might make a real team.”
“You might as well forget that,” Cherry said. “Owen’s not husband material. I ought to know.” She winked at Owen. “I gave you your chance, didn’t I?”
“You sure did, but I wouldn’t saddle a lovely lady like you with a bum like me.”
Owen enjoyed talking with the women. He knew they were bad. Some of them had a vicious streak, but he always felt a grief for a person’s being trapped in a life that could not end happily. He stayed until Cherry had fried the steaks, and the others left to eat. As soon as they were gone, she said, “You want a steak, Owen?”
“No, I ate back at the wagon. Antelope’s not much.”
Cherry didn’t seem to hear his words. She was watching him with a curious expression, and finally she said, “Owen, do you ever think about the time we were together?”
“I guess so. I was telling someone the other day about all a man has is memories. Yes, I remember those days, Cherry.”
“So do I.” She hesitated, then added, “We could have that again, Owen.”
Owen stared at her, not knowing how to answer. He had fancied himself in love with Cherry Valance at one time, and he had even offered to marry her. But she had refused him. He wondered why she had lied to the girls about it and then decided that was the way of a woman.