The ponies strung along behind Josh, and he kept them at a lively trot—partly because he didn’t have a lot of time, mostly because one of them was a headstrong troublemaker who’d find a way to veer off course if given any leeway.
Sort of like Ruth
.
Josh yanked his hat down lower on his brow. Ruth wasn’t going to be easy to keep corralled. He resented her for being there; but that wasn’t really fair. His sense of honor led him to say that Alan’s will should be settled according to Alan’s wishes.
Regardless of who inherited what from Alan, someone had to tend to the day-in-and-day-out running of the Broken P. Josh didn’t mind shouldering that responsibility. He loved the land. The gritty work demanded a lot, but he enjoyed the challenge. The stallion tried to pull sideways, and Josh yanked him back in line. A wry smile twisted his lips.
Well, most days I like it. I’ll be happier when I sell
off this bent-for-trouble pony
.
He’d been dead-level honest when he told Galen about the knothead, but Galen still wanted to see all three. Anyone else would have come to the Broken P to examine and buy horses. But with Mr. O’Sullivan sick and Galen taking up all the slack, Josh figured he could go to his friend instead.
Smoke curled from the stovepipe in a thin, lazy ribbon. Windows and doors lay wide open. Though his house on the Broken P looked far grander, Josh couldn’t help longing for the simple, comfortable welcome invariably given at the O’Sullivans’. Kelly O’Sullivan made her house a home by loving the Lord and all He sent her way.
As Mama did when she was with us
. Josh tugged on the lead rope when the knothead got willful.
Laney tried to liven up their lives and make the house special with some of the things they taught her at that fancy school back East. Josh knew the motive behind her efforts—but they all seemed so stiff and contrived. As for Ruth, she’d livened things up considerably with her table discussions … even if they often presented crazy notions such as her building a chicken coop. Left alone, Laney had been bored to tears. Josh suspected when left alone back East, Ruth probably started everyone praying for boredom’s return.
Hilda shooed the girls away, and Dad’s stance was that they were to be pretty, not practical. Wound up in the day-to-day, nittygritty demands of ranching, Josh couldn’t very well teach Ruth and his sister the things they ought to know. Both needed a woman’s touch to coax them into understanding what a home should be.
At
least Laney and Ruth can come here to see how Kelly O’Sullivan does it
.
“Hey!” he shouted.
“In the barn!” Galen called back.
Mrs. O’Sullivan came to the door and wiped her hands on the hem of her apron. “What a fine spring day it is that brings you here, Joshua McCain.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And isn’t that a first-rate string of ponies you have there!”
“If I’m being truthful, ma’am, I’d say two of the three are prizes.”
She laughed. “When you and my son are done, drop in for lunch.”
“I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t been hoping for an invitation.” Her laughter followed him as he led the horses toward the barn. Galen strode out and opened the gate to a corral, so Josh led the string right in.
Galen entered the corral and shut the gate. “Oh, will you get a look at these beauties?”
“Looks aren’t everything.” Josh dismounted and started to untie the closest horse while his friend worked the last free. “This first one, I’m warning you, is a headache on hooves. I only brought him because you asked me to. But if you choose him, I’m going to fight you.”
“Spirited, eh?”
“Stupid and stubborn. There’s a world of difference. You could handle him, but your brothers—” Josh shook his head. “He’ll dump them off and run.”
“He has exquisite conformation.”
“You’d find something good to say about the horses ridden in Revelation’s apocalypse.”
“They are God’s creatures,” Galen teased. He slapped the nearest mustang on the haunch and watched her trot to the trough. The other horses joined her, then separated and milled about.
Josh kept his mouth shut and let Galen study the animals.
Singing under his breath, Galen approached the brown-andwhite mustang. With sure, steady hands, he examined the horse, then grinned at Josh. “Oh, now this one’s a sweetheart, isn’t she?”
“Yup. Other mustang’s temperament is just as agreeable.”
“Is that so?” Galen moved to the black-and-white. After a few minutes, he nodded. “Aye, you’re a grand little gelding, aren’t you? Strong and hardy.”
“They’ll serve you well.”
“But the stallion…” Galen grinned. “He’s givin’ you fits, is he?”
“I’ve been tempted to cut him or haul him off to the glue factory.” Josh scowled at the animal.
“Now, don’t you be blamin’ him. ’Tisn’t his fault.” Galen pasted on a cocky smile and headed for that last animal. “You prayed for patience. Mayhap God wanted to teach you a lesson with this one.”
Josh snorted. “Don’t go blaming God; the fault lies squarely on Eddie Lufe’s shoulders. Gelding that horse would probably solve the problem, but Lufe specified he wanted a stallion.”
Singing again, Galen ran his hands over the stallion. At first, the stallion shied away, but Galen’s talent won him over.
“Son,” Mrs. O’Sullivan called from about ten feet away. “Would—”
The stallion jolted. Instantaneously Josh and Galen grabbed his halter and jerked to keep him from rearing. It took both of them to control him. He continued to paw the earth and toss his head.
Josh gritted, “You had a look-see, Galen, but you’re not getting this horse.”
“No, I’m not.”
“I didn’t mean to startle the poor pony,” Mrs. O’Sullivan halfwhispered.
“This one’s daft, Ma. Josh thought to geld him, but Eddie Lufe’s wanting a stallion.”
“Well, now, Eddie Lufe’s a powerful moose of a man. I’m not sayin’ he’s cruel, because he’s not; but the man tends to be firm with his beasts. It’ll be a good match, I’m sure.”
“Did you need something, Ma?”
“Aye. Your da heard the horses, and he’d love to see what you buy. If I walk him out to the porch, could you bring the new ponies up to him?”
Galen glanced at a fencepost shadow, and Josh understood he was determining the time. “You have a relay due in?”
“Aye.”
“You get the horse ready. I’ll go help your dad onto the porch.”
“I can take care of Cullen.”
Josh rested his hands on his hips. “Mrs. O’Sullivan, you’re the one who said it’s a fine spring day. With it being so nice, I reckon I could bring your husband down the steps, into the sunshine.”
“Make it a picnic, Ma.” Galen climbed over the corral fence and went into the stable.
Cullen O’Sullivan passed judgment on the two mustangs and agreed the stallion ought to go to Eddie Lufe. Josh hadn’t brought the stallion over to the ailing man—he didn’t want to chance a problem, but it was good to see how the ponies allowed him to lead them right up to Mr. O’Sullivan’s chair and tolerated his touch.
When Galen helped his father back into the house, Josh reached over and stilled Mrs. O’Sullivan as she started to pick up from lunch. He said in a quiet tone, “I plan to help out around here.”
She looked up at him. “Galen’s doin’ a fine job.”
“You all are. But that’s not to say there isn’t plenty to do. Galen’s my friend, and I aim to help him—but you’ll make it easier if you accept my offers. Same as when the girls come over. I want you to put them to work. They want you to—we discussed it last night.”
“Josh—”
He held up his hand to silence her. “Hilda won’t let them lift a hand around the house. She holds the crazy notion that Dad’ll let her go if he thinks the girls can handle matters. That being the case, you can put them to chores so they help out and learn how to organize themselves. Both have fancy training, but when it comes to practicalities, they’re lost. I don’t think either of them could cook a complete meal.”
“I’ve taught them to make stew. They both can make a decent pot now.”
Josh grinned. “Great! Don’t hesitate to rope ’em into pitching in and helping out. Consider it training for the day they become wives.”
“I’m happy to do things with them. You know that.”
“They’re happy to do things with you and for you.”
“They come as guests, Josh. I’m not about to ruin every visit by expecting them to do my labors.”
“You’ll be giving them the opportunity to learn valuable skills. Surely you can see how important it is for them to be able to do all of those sorts of things. They need a woman’s guidance and wisdom. I can’t think of a finer Christian woman to teach them.”
“If I listened to your cockeyed plan, I’ll be getting far more from those lasses than a guest should ever give.”
He chuckled. “I’ve worried more than once you’d consider them to be pests, not guests. Remember what the Good Book says in Acts: ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.”’
“I heard your asking price on those mustangs.” She gave him a meaningful look. “You’re ranch is already giving and my family’s receiving plenty.”
Josh scoffed. “I know the Pony Express paid up to two hundred dollars for some of their horses, but you and I both know that’s absurd—especially for common little mustangs. I got ’em for a song and used spare time to saddle break ’em. Broken P’s making a profit.”
“God bless you, Josh. You know my boys are longing for horses of their own.”
“They’ll put ’em to good use.”
He heard hooves flying and turned. Galen came out of the house and ran to the relay pony. Mrs. O’Sullivan grabbed the sandwich, hitched up her skirts, and ran, too.
“Trouble!” the rider shouted from seventy yards away. “Trouble!”
I
t was bound to happen,” Mr. McCain said as he poured gravy over his plate.
“But an entire Pony Express station?” Laney took a dab of mashed potatoes and set down the bowl.
“Paiutes ain’t friendly.” McCain shook his fork at his son. “I told you this’d happen.”
Josh nodded. “I didn’t expect them to act so quickly or fiercely.”
“Where is—I mean was—Williams Station?” Ruth pushed the butter beans around on her plate.
“Oh, my word!” Laney’s eyes grew huge. “You barely got here, Ruth! The Indians could have attacked the stagecoach.”
“But they didn’t.” Ruth lifted her chin. “We’ll have to pray for the men who continue to serve the Pony Express.”
“Prayin’ isn’t going to amount to a hill of beans’ worth of difference,” McCain muttered. “You’ve got thousands of heathens roamin’ around out there, eager to make trouble.”
“Are you referring to the attack on Fort Defiance?” Ruth asked.
“That too. Them Navajos up and went after a United States fort end of last month. Today, they mounted an attack against the Pony.”
“I thought you said the Paiutes attacked Williams Station,” Laney said quietly.
“They did,” Josh said in support.
McCain heaved a sigh. “Mark my words, this is just the start of it, and the Pony Express business is going to have an uphill fight on their hands. They cross the land of dozens of bands of Indians, and the redskins won’t put up with it for long.”
“The Pony Express isn’t going to buckle under from one incident,” Josh said. “Once the natives see that the stations and riders are peaceful, matters ought to cool down—at least that’s the general wisdom.”
“That sounds right,” Ruth said. “It’s not reasonable to expect them to understand our motives. Some things take time.”
“Any business suffers losses, and the Pony Express is a dangerous one.” Josh cut more of his meat. “I’m sure they anticipated some of this, but the loss of life is a travesty.”
“Why d’you think they advertised for orphans to be their riders?” McCain took a huge bite of pot roast.
“I read that most of the riders aren’t orphans,” Ruth said. “But even if they were, it would still be a shame.”
“We don’t have the particulars yet,” Josh said. “Could be the station employees snuck off. Just because the station was attacked doesn’t mean the people are dead.”
“Hope they are.” McCain shoveled more food into his mouth. “Indians torture their captives.”
Laney gasped and went pale.
Josh and Ruth exchanged a glance. Ruth hurriedly said, “Since we don’t know the details, suppositions won’t do us any good or change matters. Josh, you rode off with three ponies. I noticed when you came back, you didn’t have any.”
He took her lead beautifully and plunged right in on the changed subject. “Yup. Time came to sell ’em. O’Sullivans bought the mare and the gelding.”
“Oh, I’m so glad!” A little color returned to Laney’s cheeks. “I told Galen they were wonderful.”
“He didn’t need to be told. He assessed them for himself. The man’s got a good eye for horseflesh and handles the animals well.”
Josh nodded. “They took to him straight off.”
“What about that stallion?” McCain took a gulp of coffee.
“Sold it to Eddie Lufe. He’s tickled pink to have him, but I’m happier to be rid of the stupid beast. I’ve never seen a horse more bent on causing trouble. I said so to Lufe, and the crazy man just laughed. He can’t say I didn’t warn him.”